I am fresh off an actual in-person conference and it felt like writer’s cramp and a sore face. I haven’t taken notes in two years, not by hand. Those muscles mounted a mutiny. And my laugh-out-loud-until-it-hurts muscles? They needed to be flexed more than I knew. In one workshop, my friend Mary DeMuth pressed her
“I’m so sorry that happened to your pretty coat,” the flight attendant said, handing me a claim slip to submit to the airline. They’d have my brand new pink coat dry cleaned, she promised. I made the mistake of sticking it in the overhead bin, where items shift during flight and greasy hinges shift your
The Nile famously flows north but loves flows south. Love goes top down and that includes the kids. It’s easier when they’re little. Sure, they fight us on that 1 p.m. naptime and test our patience with long, made-up stories—but at the end of the day we know it’s them and us, us and them.
I should have known something was wrong. My son never uses his phone as a phone. And he was calling me during rush hour. Turns out there’s no messing with a mom’s intuition. My son had just been rear-ended on the freeway — it was a chain-reaction, quick-stop situation and he got plowed from behind.
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