It’s just a bed. A little twin bed with a tendency to creak too much for our daughter’s liking.  It’s also way too small, according to Amanda, who is prone to exaggeration and has been dying for a new one for the last few years. I remember when we all used to be able to…
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Storytelling, I have decided, is sort of the verbal hieroglyphics of a family, the color added to the commentary; the explanation for the picture of your brother dressed as a princess at age four long after everyone has forgotten it ever happened.   After a couple dozen re-tellings, stories take the place of actual memories….
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Wild thoughts go through your head when you’re pregnant, scary thoughts like, ‘Why should I cave in to societal pressures and not sprinkle pretzels on top of my pie a la mode?’   Once you have the child, other fears take over, many irrational. When my daughter Amanda was born nearly 14 years ago, I…
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