Be The Parent You Wish You Had


If You Hit Your Child, You Are A Bully

“Mommy, I lied.” Morgan was four years old. As she skipped off to bed, she assured me she had brushed her teeth, but in a two-minute about-face boomerang action, she again stood before me delivering her confession. I studied her stricken face, anxiety riddling her big...

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There Is No Such Thing As Fearless

“Just jumped out of an airplane at 13,000 feet! WOOOO HOOOOOOOO!!!!!” That was a text to my mom (and a few of my closest friends) last Monday afternoon. Mom responded with: “Trina! They say it’s better than sex (if you’re still alive!). Is that true?” I was thirteen...

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Fall Back ~ How I Spent My Extra Hour

Oh, the glee of falling asleep, anticipating the precious gift of a whole extra hour. With a house full of people, my sister slept in my bedroom with me during her visit from Alaska and we were immediately transported, decades earlier, as she flung her leg over me,...

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Surviving Driving Teens

“What’s behind you?!” I was fifteen and it was Mom’s recurring test from the passenger seat of our 1976 Peugeot during my repeated attempts at honing my driving skills. She came equipped with a notebook, the notes of which I never saw. The intended use of the notebook...

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An Inconvenient Reunion

The smell of stale, consumed vodka filled the room. My heart threatened to plunge into my nauseated stomach. My three week old daughter was asleep on the bed beside me. The whole bed shook as he struggled to pull his six foot, four inch, 287 pound inebriated body to...

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Dear Knight in Shining Two Tons of Steel

I was unconscious. Just below Mulholland Drive, on the forty-plus-mile-per-hour descent of Beverly Glen, a furtive pothole induced a slow-motion somersault over my bicycle handlebars. A debatable number of minutes later, the curious paramedic tested my basic math...

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Let’s Talk About Sex, Mommy

“Mommy, what’s an erection?” Morgan was six, Wendy was four and I was pregnant with Thomas. Morgan’s questions were detailed and specific, including a demand for information on just how, exactly, that baby got in my tummy. I explained that for her baby brother to...

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The Middle Cinnamon Roll

Kathy and I were 3 and 4 years old and every Sunday morning, Mom made Pillsbury cinnamon rolls. Before we could even devour the last gooey, sticky bite, we were counting the days until the following Sunday. By the time we were 5 and 6, Mom and Dad awoke to the scent...

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