We’re beyond believing here, in all sorts of ways, but I’ll tell you something about childhood magic that perseveres right up to the tween years:
Don’t ruin it.
Just let them be. There’s no harm in it. Especially at this time if year. Continue reading
I am writing my memoir. To read chapter 1 click here. (3 minute read)
The following is chapter 13, a scene that resides prominently in my head. I am not releasing my chapters in order. There are different parts to my story that rise up to my consciousness at random times, so I edit and re-write without rhyme or reason. If you like the chapters, perhaps when my book is finished, you will want to read it in its entirety. By then, the story will be more consecutive (I hope). 🙂
Although this story is true and happened to me, I decided to continue writing in the third person. Some readers commented they like it, while others preferred a switch to the first person. I appreciate the feedback (thank you!) but realized after re-writing chapter 1 into the first person, it did not sound right. There is a switch to the first person later in the story, but you will have to wait to find out why, and when.
Chapter 13 is also a 3 minute read. Happy reading!
I have been debating on and off whether I should write this post.
The struggle is so real to me that I have to physically hold myself back from letting it get the best of me because if I do that, the push back may be permanent. And I can’t let that happen – kids need support in ways that wasn’t prevalent in my day. And it’s not just the internet, there are other things going on. Things that didn’t seem to be so up front and in your face in my day the way they are today.
But at the same time, I also question the sanity of this society at times. How is it we push kids onto career paths earlier and earlier with every generation?
I was talking with my chiropractor a few weeks ago whose daughter is the same age as my son; both are in grade 8 and visiting high school open houses to determine the next step. His words resonate loud and clear in my head:
“They’re only 13, they’re still children.” Continue reading
I think I’m ready.
Ready for them all to go back to their regular routine, out of the house, so I can get back to mine.
(Sorry, I just don’t have anything else on my brain at the moment…regular writing will resume next week.)
A little 9 year old girl who was on my daughter’s all star team during last year’s baseball season got sick in April.
Today, my own 10 year old daughter will attend her wake. My daughter and her friend, another fellow ball player from the same team, will visit a very sad place and try to understand the magnitude of what it means when a child dies.
A child just like they are. Continue reading
So I find this on my kitchen counter: