Time Stands Still
It was Day Eight of being home with our newborn. I sat on my colorful, checkered chair under the big window in our apartment. I wore a black nursing tank top that was wet with breast milk, a...
View ArticleA Second Look at the Vicious Cycle of Divorce
I am one of those children of divorce who grew up only to get divorced myself. It is the typical sad story. But then why am I so happy? My parents divorced when I was five. I don’t recall much,...
View Article