Eleven years ago on a sunny May day, I was helping my drama students with their last run-through before their final performance for drama class. The room was buzzing with energy and excitement and the stage was being set.  But Miss Lucy, who hates to miss anything, had other plans.  My water broke during class so I called Big Man who was conveniently on an OB rotation at the time.  I barely got the words "My water broke" out before I heard ...

Sorrow founds it's way along the banks of the Mississippi.  A friendly, light-hearted, talented young man, the son of a well-known, well-liked, vibrant couple took his own life and every parent I know has been rendered speechless.

Big Man is worried about what to get me for Mother's Day. I don't like plants because with them comes yet one more thing to keep alive.  Books are as essential to my life as food so there is a steady supply of those. And yet I kind of get a bit nauseous when I read or hear from other mom's that all they want from Mother's Day is to be with their family.

Most times when I write, I have an idea I am attempting to work through. But lately, there is so much swirling around in my brain that I don't even know where to start.  Here are just a few things that have been on my mind:

 I looked the other way once. 

The world has it wrong, or at least the media does. It seems we have no real shortage of heroes--we are just looking in the wrong places.  Try walking the halls of a middle school anywhere.  In every single school you will see a jumble of whacky hormones that make some kids look like they need to head back to elementary school while others appear as if they could get their high school diploma tomorrow.

On a recent trip, I saw this t-shirt worn by a man between the ages of, I'm guessing, 17-23.

The number...

The conversation began on Saturday....you know, the one where we discuss Daylight Savings Time.  We will go to bed and in the middle of the night, we will lose one hour and spring ahead.  It seems simple enough. I love daylight savings time because it is the only way I get at least one child to sleep until 7:00 a.m. even if it is fake. But Thing 1 was stymied about this occurrence and wouldn't let it go.

Names are important. They recognize an individual, make a person tangible, and give them worth. In the beginning of the first Harry Potter book, the villain is so awful that for a spell, they only refer to him as He Who Must Not Be Named. This is how I have come to think of the man who directed vile, lewd, and blatantly inhuman comments towards Sandra Fluke after her congressional testimony on the importance of women's reproductive rights.