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she’s hard on him but she’s done nine years with four walls that she never wants him to know one morning after she lit into him they both skipped class when she picked him up later he said Mama let’s skip to the car like we used to An arsonist by trade, John Reinhart lives on a farmlette in Colorado with his wife and children. He is a Frequent Contributor at the Songs of Eretz, member of the Science Fiction Poetry Association, and was awarded the 2016 Horror Writers Association

Eight years ago on this day, my second child was born. Since, Gabriel has shown himself to be independent, empathetic, intelligent, compassionate and endlessly, energetically curious. His birth was a whirlwind. He exited too quickly, fracturing my pelvis and failing to be squished enough by contractions to have the water forced from his lungs. The doctor and nurses whisked him away from me. We spent the next three days observing his breathing, me in intense pain and full of post-partum hormones and fear. It eventually turned into depression. That isn’t

We have no screens on between 9:00 AM and 4:30 PM in my house. It’s summer. My kids are home and need the practice being bored to detox from the pressure-filled structure of school and constant social engagement. Seriously! Psychologists agree that boredom is the key to mental wellness and intelligence. And it just so happens that structure is my mortal enemy. Screens are the bane of my existence (at least when they aren’t blank and waiting for my creative input), and the social/time demands of the school year burn

Telling people how to parent seems to have gone viral since the tragic loss of Harambe the Gorilla. The internet wars have begun, and if you are a mother the odds are never in your favor. In America, the language is stacked against women when it comes to responsibility. Mothers are far more judged than men, our every move micro-assessed when our actions don’t line up with the expectations for the perfect parent. We not only need to keep our kids safe, we need to keep them busy, intellectually stimulated,

After reading an article by another autism mama on whether she was spoiling her child versus accommodating his special needs, I sat down to cry. Here was a woman writing into my life, articulating her parallel parenting existence. And she was receiving positive feedback on her parenting! Imagine my surprise to discover we share not only the same struggles, but the same first name with the same spelling? When validation comes, it is unexpected. When it comes from a woman with my own name, it’s a sign. At least, I’m going to choose to interpret

The Four Paws for Noah writing competitions have ended. I’m very happy to share that we did come out ahead with these. My family is excessively grateful to those who have donated time, money and energy to these fundraisers. I’ll have a total raised once prizes have been awarded. I’m squeeing over the fact that I get to give out prizes. Gifting is in my Top Two, just after breakfast buffets. For me, fundraising doesn’t end here. We still have a year of $500 monthly payments ahead of us along with any

My mother had a long-term boyfriend when I was 10 years old. She was going to marry him and, wow, he was like a father to me. My dad had exited my life at the age of five. He was a serial cheater; a man that loved to have women at every port whilst his wife was back at home barefoot and pregnant. He had come into my life again a year beforehand, willing to mend broken ties. His dad had just died and when Mum and Dad were at the funeral she

On the day I dared myself to speak in fourth grade my apple was taken from the class tree I was given a corner to sit in and a letter for my mother detailing my excesses and failures. Mrs. Eaton did not recognize the fear coloring my voice my legs shaking beneath the desktop the sweat on my palm when I raised my hand or the hope she would see past the olive to something other than a stony core. Later, my mother dried my palm with her own as

With the Thanksgiving holiday in the U.S., #LinkYourLife was quieter this week. Despite it being a slow day, there were an enormous number of excellent links shared. Shareen, my #LinkYourLife partner in crime, spent the day shopping and otherwise in a wardrobe I hope transported her to Narnia because, wow, that mama needs a break. I held down our three forts as best I could, but it really wasn’t too hard because this community really is turning into a family that shows up and pitches in. It’s weird. I love

“You recall this while soaping your augmented breasts one day in the shower. You turn off the water and oil your body from top to bottom feeling every curve in between. You think of your daughter beyond age 3, when she will grow breasts and hips and feel into her own sexuality with the sensual grace of youth. You think about hiding yourself, about setting the example, about priming her to be a victim, teaching her to hide, to be ashamed that she is female, that she is sexual, that she is human. To think she deserves judgment or owes what any man demands because of her genitals, her shape, her garments.”

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