“Oh, relax,” he says, ruffling my daughter’s wispy blonde hair. “We’re just playing.” By Lisa Norgren
As much as I loved football as a kid, I don’t want my own sons watching—or playing—a sport based on such overt violence. By Kate Allen Fox
My sister had asked me to bake. “Keep her busy” was the secret code among my family members that season. By Nancy Payne-Hambrose
It had been a long time since I’d heard her laugh. It felt like clouds parting. By Stewart Lewis
Time heals so much of what goes wrong in life, but the memory of what happened to Mum on that day still makes my body react. By Clover Stroud
I tell my mom I’m eating everything I’m supposed to. But she sees through this immediately. By Allison Richards
If a tween is asking for it, is willing to adhere to the rules you set, what’s the harm? By Lauren Apfel
In New York City’s rush hour, a tush encased in orange tulle attracts less attention than you’d expect. By Jaime Levy Pessin
One day infants and diaper bags and hemorrhoids and boobs won’t be hanging off of your person like you’re a cross between a human mobile and a Sherpa. By Catherine Newman
You will be in your slippers, making waffles, and suddenly remember that your mother is dead. By Brianne DeRosa