I'm currently in the process of taking old posts of mine and putting them together in a book. Right now I'm working on posts I wrote in 2009 - the days when I was a single mom with two kids and had just met my Mr. Wonderful. Today I edited one of my favorite inspirational... Continue Reading →
The rage of Taz
This morning my son tore his room apart. Annihilated is a good word. He had so much anger pent up inside of him that he didn’t know how to control it. And so he raged. He threw things. He ripped his bed apart. He knocked over his chair. And he growled deep into his throat... Continue Reading →
This is why.
“I want to come home.” These are the words my daughter, DQ, spoke to me a month after she moved out of my house to live with her father. They were the words I had hoped to hear from her every day since she left, and yet, they felt so sad as she said them... Continue Reading →
Why I let my teen move out
I know I already wrote about this. In fact, she has already moved. But after much thought, I decided to also write a newspaper article about what's going on in our home. I figure plenty of divorced families are going through the same thing as their child decides which parent to live with full time. ... Continue Reading →
One more day
DQ leaves tomorrow for her dad's. I've distanced myself from this reality, treating it like one long vacation. And for the most part, I've been blissful in my little world of denial. She's been busy packing up her room, taking over the washer machine and boxing up anything she thinks will fit into my car... Continue Reading →
Letting her go.
'Letting our children go' is a lifelong process for parents, one that we wrestle with again and again, and each parent has to wrestle with it in his or her own way. -- Mister Rogers My daughter is moving away. It’s weird typing those words. I always knew there would be a day I would... Continue Reading →
Defending my no-good Ex
My former mother-in-law called me this morning while I was working. I looked at the phone and considered letting it go to voicemail for just a moment. When she calls, the conversation tends to be one-sided, usually filled with her speaking….or speaking over me if I try to chime in as well. And I’m forced... Continue Reading →
The wicked stepmother, part 1
Frizz, my (future) stepson, milled around the kitchen putting his lunch together for the school day. We were both moving around each other, doing our best not to disturb the other in the dance we did every morning. He moved like I wasn’t even there. I just tried to stay out of his way. Neither... Continue Reading →