Through the window, I see him. Outlined in the frosted glass as he waits for the bus, The Cub is standing watch. His bright-red backpack is centered solidly on his

It’s Saturday afternoon. After a whirlwind holiday season, the dust is slooowly settling, and I’m desperate for some time with Mr. Schrock. It’s true. Nothing makes me happier than having

What if this is the year where shame has no place at the table? No voice? The damnable thing about shame is that it seeks to silence. To make us

It was the year of the lemon. Of all of the official family trees, it was the worst. The slightest sneeze from another room, a stamp of the foot upon

The door slams. The bottom 50% of the boys (i.e., numbers three and four) are leaving to run errands. Sounds of the season, they stream from the Bose, and the

I write this little post for the one who is known as a difficult child. You’ve been on my mind for days now, and a message has been forming for

It was two years ago this past autumn. The country was in turmoil. The national conversation was riddled with vitriol. Emotions burned hot and red like a California fire. The

It’s a cold December day. Over my head, gunmetal-gray clouds blanket the sky. Like unsmiling palace guards, they’re preventing the merest hint of the sun. For now, they are blocking

It’s late afternoon on this December day. I am walking and talking with my beloved Mr. Schrock. A chill breeze blows in my face. Chuff, chuff, chuff. Our shoes keep

The house is quiet today. In my cherished winter spot on the couch, I shift, turning my body, coffee in hand, so that the tree is just before me. Nearby,