I’m standing on a stretch of grass outside the camp’s dining hall during the weekly Wednesday evening cookout. My watermelon-stained hands struggle to free a wipe from its package. My oldest nags at my feet for a third cookie. And dammit, where is my middle son? Just then, my stroller tips over. You help me …
Life is but a collection of moments strung together, one right after another, to make up you… * * * Early morning, I throw on a hoodie and slip out in the first light to send a quick e-mail. The crisp air hits my cheeks; my feet flatten the dew-soaked ground. Distant sounds of crickets …
In late February, a fire ravaged the building that houses Hawthorne’s, a neighborhood restaurant. The self-proclaimed “beer boutique and gourmet eatery” was an accommodating, family-friendly place, always bustling with strollers, good friends, and good food. The fire was on a Friday morning. On Monday, I drove by while en route elsewhere. What I saw was …
I am fortunate to have friends I would do anything for. Anything? Yep. Anything. So when two of them announced they were having a baby naming for their newborn daughter at 7:45 a.m. on a Monday morning–a morning (much like every other morning) when I have all three kids on my own and at 7:45, …
Dina L. Relles 