when being quiet can kill (over at Emily Freeman’s today)

Wind catches the curtains in my children’s bedroom. They sleep with flushed cheeks and eyelashes long and every night I check on them before I go to sleep, and every night I feel both afraid and awed by their beauty.I touch lips to their skin, remember how my mum...

imperfect prose on thursdays: when your baby is having a baby

When my kids were young I used to tell them that someday, when they had children of their own, I was going to buy each one of them a pony. It was really more of a threat than a promise, as in:If the two of you don’t stop fighting and getting on my last good nerve, I...