When he sat down at the new piano and began playing – a lovely improvised piece that somewhat resembled Pachelbel’s Canon – I fought back the tears, swallowed my pride for the millionth time, and smiled back when finished. Having our own piano had been a dream of ours since we were engaged, lazily imagining…
Category Archives: sometimes my kids are better teachers than I am
Mid night
I was sitting on the floor in my room, hunched in front of the computer screen. Tap, tapping away. Answering emails. Trying to polish up a new post. Visiting other sites. Ignoring the clock as it ticked away. My heart skipped half a beat as I heard the cry come simultaneously out of the monitor…
The opposite of bad
I started joking with Sebastian a few months ago about how only his bad mama would do certain things. For example, his bad mama would leave him in a dirty diaper and not care if he got a wicked rash as a result. This was obviously said in a moment of writhing, screaming rage at…
