Did my son really need a backpack every time he left the house? By Sherri Sacconaghi
Category Archive: Family
I’d raise my family differently, not because of the mistakes I made—though I certainly made my share—but because time means so much more to me now. By Melissa T. Shultz
They arrived. One after the other. In snowstorms. On holidays. From foreign countries. In succession—as inevitable it seemed as midterms and finals. By David Joseph
I’d been craving more one-on-one time with my kids for so long and now, thanks to those pesky parasites, I had it. By Kate Lemery
My eyes focus on my abdomen, the bulge pregnancy has left behind. My inner critic opens her mouth…but then I take in the whole picture. By Chrissie Dunham
We would take a million pictures of our child but none of us. Forget to schedule date nights because we never needed them before. By Elizabeth Newdom
Cell phones do not work here, and on a good day it takes only ten minutes to open email. By Mindy R. Roll
They are part of my life’s topography. Tiny specks on my map of choices, loves and losses, hurts and heartbreak. By Jordan Namerow
I wonder now why it came as such a shock to me that friends would get married, that wild nights out would become sleepless ones at home with a baby. By Claire Lynch
“No offense Mom,” my oldest said to me a few years ago. “But you could have been so much more.” By Laura Pochintesta
We had a ritual that I honored until she outgrew the need for it. It occurs to me now that I needed it just as much as she did. By Tracy Tambosso
My parents grew up in the shadow of the Holocaust. Neither one of them knew how to tell me what had happened, so instead they said nothing. By Elissa Jacobs
I worry with the other moms about whether we’re good at it. Raising another person. By Marni Berger
My daughter collapses after an endless tantrum and says, I wish I wasn’t adopted. By Tanya Friedman
I hesitated because I am a product of my society, just like everyone else. By Fiona Leary Boucher
I arrive at the office. I mime professional. Am I a professional? For months my identity was pure and unquestioned: mother of an infant. By Janelle Ward
We asked, you answered. In three words.
Kisses really mean love. When we kiss you goodnight, we told her, it leaves your cheek and travels straight into your heart. By Rosanne Ullman
As parents sometimes it’s a struggle to carve out even a few minutes to breathe. By Steph Auteri
This year is different. Maybe it’s because I’ve had the miscarriages. Maybe it’s because we both recently turned 42. By Angela Kidd
I want my son to see the value in committing to something because it’s beautiful and worthwhile, not because he’s certain to succeed. By Daisy Alpert Florin
We already lived paycheck to paycheck, how in the world would we scrounge up the money to stay in even a cheap hotel near our daughter? By Anna Whitlock
So many parents speak of this transition period with promise and enthusiasm. But I loved nothing more than my kids walking through the door every day at 2:35pm. By Randi Olin
Our daughter asked good questions—what about the other baby? Were we sad? Why did it happen? By Cynthia Nuara
“Baby, it might be a mistake,” my mother said. “Sometimes they accidentally send these things out to the wrong people.” By Rebecca Potter