In an effort to make family a priority and give our kids what we didn't have, we've become a child-focused culture. In many ways, we've lost our purpose.
I didn't exactly know what to do with my dad's Elantra. So I drove. I got in the car and took my first independent road trip. It was the only thing I could do to both honor my dad and escape the overwhelming pain and death at home.
I have to stop dreaming of "one day" when things will be easier. Because the truth is, it may get easier, but it will never be better than today.
Childhood isn't easy. And it's a whole lot harder when parents are counting on their children to make them happy -- with a good grade, a positive attitude, a full social calendar, a home run at the game, a scholarship, great SAT scores and perfect attendance.
Because I've wanted to better understand babies and toddlers for some time, I've asked a 1-year-old, 2-year-old and 3-year-old to answer questions from the survey.
What Chase's teacher is doing when she sits in her empty classroom studying those lists written with shaky 11-year-old hands -- is SAVING LIVES. I am convinced of it. She is saving lives.
International Day of Happiness isn't about drawing smiley faces on sticky notes (which I don't do) or putting a good face on bad news (which I do sometimes), it's about hitting the "pause" button sometime during March 20 and thinking about how happiness is an essential element of life.
I have realized that writing someone a letter of love and gratitude is a beautiful experience for both the writer and the receiver. I plan to continue writing love letters to the people in my life that I truly love so much.
I understand that it's never going to happen, that there actually is no such thing as "having it all." Even confronted by that reality, though, I'm not going to stop wanting it.
ictoria believes that autistic children are powerful souls who have diminished themselves in a body gone wrong; that they are the very best of us come here to teach. They are angels.
It's hard to believe that it was so hard for her, when in the past it's been (relatively) easy. But when the pain of the day had subsided just a bit, I recalled one of the mantras of slow distance runners: "Dead Last Finish is greater than Did Not Finish, which trumps Did Not Start."
Whether we make billions or we make our living by begging, someone helps us get along, someone buys what we sell, someone throws their change in our bucket. Each of us is indebted to someone, everyday.
She knows I am sad. And she has seen me cry. I just don't want her to witness me losing control. I think that could be scary for her.