It's pretty amazing how we can rise to the challenges that are placed before us. And when we do, we realize how powerful we truly are.
Glamorous is all well and good for some, but there's a dignity, an honor, a self-confidence that comes when someone embraces where they're at in life, be it a mother or grandmother, rather than trying to deny the passage of time.
The most financially aware parents teach their children that it's right to want to be rich, and it's also possible for anyone who thinks big.
We see you doing those hard things, those honoring things, those I-love-you things, even though it's not easy, just so they'll feel your love and not just hear of it.
I grew up in such a different world than yours. I learned about the World Wars in school, and even though I had grandparents who had served in the armed forces in North Africa, they were not the heroes of my World War II and Cold-War heavy curriculum: It was the United States.
As parents, all we want is a safe haven for our family and we try to find it. But whether it's in a quiet suburb or a big city, all of these places have one thing in common: They're in America. And Americans have guns.
It wasn't until he walked through our door that I realized it would be a long time before we would feel like a family again. That we could manage living together.
The passenger sitting in front me decides even though he isn't sleeping, he is going to take whatever legal space he can get in economy. My injured child wails from the pain of the seat pushed on her head while my bladder lets loose from the pressure of her cranium in my pelvis.
Technically, I probably shouldn't do a lot of the things I still do. But I also can't help shake the feeling that I'm not the only one--that there are definitely hordes of other grown ups out there who also feel vaguely like total impostors.
I stick close to the lodge the following day, made safe by sunshine, staff members, and internet access. That's when I overhear the director and head counselor talking about a bear.
Hands are the tools with which we shape the world. They define us to an extent -- as sons and daughters, providers and professionals, laborers and learners.
There are days I think about you, baby number two. I wonder what sex you'll be and what color eyes you'll have, and I wonder if I will ever see them.
...asked my 9 year-old last month. Otherwise absorbed in a rousing Fifa 15 match, he looked up from the iPad when the news upstaged Isco's corner kick.
"Meet at a hotel bar for a few drinks. Connect without distraction and verbalize what you loved about each other in the beginning. Reclaim the glue that held you together at some point in time."
"Dadly," to me, means dancing the tango with my little girls wrapped in my arms around the living room. "Dadly," to me, means using super glue on their 700-piece My Little Pony set that won't stay together.
You fight for your children when they can't fight for themselves. You hope for them and you stay positive for them, and then run to the bathroom just to cry in the stall where they can't see.