A day of joys and sorrows
“Jen? Sweetie? I’m sorry to wake you, but it’s 9:15. What time is the funeral?” I start the long, slow process of dragging myself to consciousness, pulling off the sleep mask and yanking out the ear plugs as I mutter …
“Jen? Sweetie? I’m sorry to wake you, but it’s 9:15. What time is the funeral?” I start the long, slow process of dragging myself to consciousness, pulling off the sleep mask and yanking out the ear plugs as I mutter …
Later this summer my menfolk are heading to the wilds of northern Wisconsin for a week of Boy Scout camp. Let us now fall to our knees and bow our heads in reverence, allowing the power and meaning of those …
One of the hardest things about blogging about your kids is knowing where to draw the privacy line. At some point their stories become theirs alone, and no longer something I can conscientiously share. We hit that stage maybe a year …