Parenting

The perfect mother

My aunt has no children, and my mother has only me, and this has been their shared sorrow and their shame. In their world, to have so few children is a mark of...

The way my son plays

Thwack. The kickball ricochets off the front of our house and the arguing begins. “Safe!” yells Henry. “Run to second!” yells Thomas. “I got you out!” yells...

Protect us from all anxiety

At night when I exhaustedly flop down on my son’s bed to say evening prayers with him, I inevitably have to curb his tendency to race through the words. The...