It's been a rough month. I relapsed.  Fast and hard.  I'd been doing so darn well.  Walking everyday.  Taking less medicine.  Being more and more active.  I really thought I was going to be well enough to return to work.  I'd bought a couple new YA novels, scribbling a few notes for lesson plans.  I... Continue Reading →

So your kid is going to school and you want to cry because how could this little human being, who grew under your heart and inside your home, already be responsible for his own stuff, figuring out how to get to and from classes, and buying his own food and toilet paper.  Dear God, how will... Continue Reading →

Writing is therapeutic. No shocking info there, right? If you're reading this, you probably already subscribe to that philosophy. Well, my last blog post was beyond words restorative. It was holy moly, in-your-face, why-didn't-I-see-that-before kind of shocking. Let me explain.  After clicking "publish" on my last post, I scanned over the finished product, as I... Continue Reading →