Mamalode

I did spend a lot of time however wondering in what ways my daughter would be like, or unlike me. I knew I couldn’t pick the genetic traits she’d inherit, but there were still things I hoped for.

Sometimes, a girl just needs her grandma. And her mom.

Some days I feel completely drained by 10 a.m.—exhausted by the sheer force of my daughter’s will.

Does it really matter what age we become parents, when we all of us are just trying to provide better—more—for our kids than what we had ourselves?

“Play with me mommy,” she pleaded for the third time in an hour.

Am I a bad parent? I think it’s the question that haunts us all.

When I found out I was pregnant, there were certain dreams that I knew I would have to set aside

I have to keep telling myself it’s just hair, and it will continue to grow. Just like my baby.

When Skye goes to her dad’s, like she’s about to do, alone takes on a whole new meaning for me.

How was I supposed to explain death to a four-year-old, especially when the pain of that death is still so fresh in my own heart?