By Jennifer Savage. I've started walking. As a life-long runner, I have to say, it's a bit odd.
By Jennifer Savage. Honestly, I’m surprised sometimes how little I think about our farm life.
By Jennifer Savage. Gender is a spectrum and Eliza is on it. She is experimenting with traditional girl things, trying them on, seeing how they feel.
By Jennifer Savage. It is tight. Winter is coming.
By Jennifer Savage. If I could I’d still stack bacon in front of my plate, mark my territory and call it all mine.
By Jennifer Savage. There are days I look at my children and wonder just how I became their mother.
By Jennifer Savage. We had gone from a place of deep trust just minutes before with my fingers in her hair, listening to her tell me about her day to me on my knees detailing all the ways I take care her while she shivered and cried, wrapped in a towel, in front of me.
By Jennifer Savage. Sometimes you have to go to where you came from to know where you are going. And recently I hopped a plane at the absolute last minute to do just that.
By Jennifer Savage. I watched Lucille struggle this week with being left out. The girl/girl business starts early, friends. I stepped in and held her as she cried. A little while later she got stung by a bee and started howling. Four other children came over to check on her and give her a hug.
My children attend a lovely school which requires that we attend camp each fall. While intellectually I see the point of such an experience, as one mother so eloquently put …