If you only have time for one book, go with "The Whole-Brain Child" by Daniel J. Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson. I bought this book when Nora was four and I was.
I got the call on a Tuesday morning in March. My mother was in the hospital -- something with her heart, they weren't sure yet, but it was serious enough that.
The rejection letter came on a Tuesday. I know it was a Tuesday because I remember the light through the window of my apartment — that specific late afternoon.
I need to tell you about the afternoon I realized I had been angry for six years and didn't know.
I quit my job on a Thursday. Not because I had another one lined up. Not because I had a savings cushion that would last more than three months. Not because I.
I turned 37 in the apartment with the dry-erase marker stains on the kitchen table, and I remember thinking: three years from 40, and I am not who I thought.
It was my friend Mara's birthday, six years ago, in a bar in the Pearl District that had exposed brick and string lights and approximately nine hundred people.
Three weeks into my new management role, I locked myself in a conference room and.
I have a daughter named Nora, who is nine. She is at the exact age where she has started to notice things — not just what people say, but how they say it, what.
There is a specific kind of 2am that I know too well. The kind where you've been lying in bed for two hours and your body is tired but your brain has decided.
