He’s 12 but He’s Still Mine
My son is now 12. No longer little, not yet grown. It’s so hard to imagine that he’s soon becoming…
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My son is now 12. No longer little, not yet grown. It’s so hard to imagine that he’s soon becoming…
Continue ReadingWe stand together silently in the short line at 7:58 a.m. Next to me, my almost-teenage son scuffles his feet…
Continue ReadingI touched her hair today. The delicate, fully-formed, angel-baby droplet plucked intentionally off heaven's tree and placed in my belly…
Continue ReadingI’m a talker. I’m a spill-the-beans, over-sharing, rambling on about my latest fascination chatterbox. I love words, and so do…
Continue ReadingWhen I hold you, I will try to remember your tiny arms and tiny legs wrapped securely around me. When…
Continue ReadingMy son, you are 12 years old. You are a young boy in the last days before you become a…
Continue ReadingThey all say it’s coming. I have an inkling it might be true. Yet I’m holding on–I’m believing the same…
Continue ReadingWhile I was organizing my daughter's bedroom this weekend, it hit me: we've entered the in-between years. We're in between…
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