By Marisa Ulrich The Storm of Suicide
It was the year of Hurricane Katrina. Life was stormy without and within. May of that year saw me four…
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Marisa Ulrich
The Unmaking of a Mamacopter
I grew up under the whirring blades of a mamacopter of the first order. No swimming. She once heard about…
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Old School Kids in a Brave New World
I wouldn't exactly call my kids deprived, though sometimes their peers stare goggle-eyed when we tell them things like we…
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Delicacy Blooms in the Shade of the Son
Ever notice those little flowers that spring up close to the house, very nearly hugging the walls? We get tiny…
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Eventualities
I have a song for everything. Ask my kids. I guess it's a combination of preschool teacher, genes of the…
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Unbroken, My Autism Journey
Growing up, I felt nothing if not broken. Pieces of me littered my landscape, fragmented by fear, fragility, and frequent…
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My Life as a Ping Pong Ball
Happily ever after. Heard and often had it applied to my wonderful happenstance after floundering in a scummy pond of…
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Me Help – Two Words This Mom Loves and Hates to Hear
Me help! Ohh, those two words. Endearing. Smile-inducing. Inconvenient. The day's been long before lunchtime. The kitchen looks like a…
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Embrace the Silliness
My husband is a woodworker, among many gifts. One of these days (when he isn't so busy) I'm going to…
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