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on the less-than-perfect childhood

Thursday, January 22, 2015

click here to find photo credit (and a recipe for oatmeal)
He's standing on the kitchen counter.

I look over and see the familiar leather school shoes against the cuff of jeans that aren't quite too short. Balanced between a peanut butter jar and a loaf of bread, his head is in the spice cabinet, and he's searching for ... what? Everything he could need is already on the counter. Oatmeal bubbles on the stove, and I'm working fast. Nobody wants pasty oatmeal. I reach for nuts, vanilla, and cinnamon while removing the boiling pot from the heat. Kids are swarming around, lunch and breakfast prep are both underway, and he's standing on the kitchen counter.

"See?" I said, and I heard my own note of irritation. "You ask to help me in the kitchen, and then you get in here and mess around. That's frustrating."

walking in the dark

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Yesterday marked six months. Six months since I saw my son's life pull away from us like a wave, then wash back two minutes later. Six months since I realized children can just ... die. You can give them the very best of who you are, you can feed them fruits and vegetables and curtail their media and make sure they go to bed on time, and still they can wander away and just die. As my friend said so eloquently, my life stood on a razor's edge that day. No matter what happens - and we had the best possible outcome - you can never go back.

I'm on Huffington Post today!

I'm over at Huffington Post, sharing an open letter to Millenials. You probably hate open letters, right? Usually they aren't my style either. But this one is different. I'm not poking fun, and I'm not ranting. I'm sharing why we need Millenials to do exactly what they are doing.

"I'm a Gen-Xer, and the media once disparaged my generation too. We were the latch key kids, the ones who raised ourselves while our mothers climbed the corporate ladder for the first time. I grew up in public schools back when children were still left behind, and I remember reading the articles (in print, of course) despairing how my generation would ever be educated enough to lead. They were wrong about us, too. I see you, and I remember what it felt like to be 23. To be convinced if I loved hard enough, worked long enough, hoped big enough, I too could change the world."

You can read more here.
 

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