Because I said so. (Parenting)

Our ABCs. For God’s sake, School, TAKE MY CHILDREN BACK. Can’t. Take. Much. More.

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I cannot understand this pain. I cannot step into it, I cannot begin to know it. Why Amy and her husband were chosen to know this pain, I will never understand. One year without a beloved child is just the beginning of a life without a beloved child, and they will know this every day of their lives. There will be laughter, there will be other beloved children, but there will never be another Arden.

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I love my mom. She is solid, beautiful, there. She loves me like a rock, protects me and cares for me—whether she’s three blocks over, in a different country, or simply a blog away.
Read her post. That’s the lady who taught me to write, who taught me to be kind, who taught me it’s okay [...]

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All this over a naked bum or two!
Let’s get a few things straight:
1) I do not shove my daughter’s face into my ass cheeks and command her to sing. They did that at Guantanamo Bay. I choose waterboarding when my children misbehave, as most sane parents do.
2) I did not choose the subtitle: “…clothing-optional policy….” [...]

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“Why does there have to be money anyway?”

“I asked my father the same thing when I was eight,” I tell her. “He told me something about raccoons and monkeys and pineapples becoming too burdensome. I still don’t understand.”

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