This kid is made of steel. He’s like a Batman villain.
I have never, in my entire life, been as in awe of one person as I am of him. He does things his own way.
The box is tossed in front of the front door, the bag is almost completely empty, and, mixed between the pieces, are squashed particles of cereal dust.
My son turns television watching into an all-out physical event.
I didn’t get mad at him for an impulse that he obviously couldn’t control in that moment. I wanted to. A voice in my head said, “Yo. Freak out.”
The things I do for my son aren’t done for his recognition, appreciation, or even attention. They’re done because I love him.
On this day, in this room, for this concert, my main goal was to make sure we stayed until the finish.
Keeping his iPad away for the entire final day of Spring Break sounded crazy to everyone, including me, but it had to be done.
A terrible decision for your child might be the perfect one for mine.
What followed was a barrage of sad heart emojis mixed with the occasional, “Stay Strong, Mama”.