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We just returned from the seventh grade class trip, and although I would love nothing more than to chillax (chill-relax as the kids call it) on the couch, many of you are expecting this blog about our adventures.
“I would never send my child to that school,” said my friend after I toured the local public high school in my community. And while I don’t need to make this rather weighty decision for another year, this is how we moms are trained to act in the era when high school seniors such as Suzie Lee Weiss are outlining the harsh realities facing college applicants in razor sharp Wall Street Journal op-eds. That’s a topic for a different blog.
As the parents of twin boys, my husband and I have tried to instill in our children the difference between right and wrong, while fine-tuning the delicate balance between holding their hands and encouraging them to fly.
Thank you to Therafit Shoes for inviting me to guest blog:
Yesterday we dismantled a life. My siblings and I gathered together at my late mother's home to sift through her belongings. Seventy-four years of stuff cramped the walls and drawers. When I walked into her closet, I expected to find rows of blouses and bottoms, but the hangers were bare, our sister having already generously given away the clothes to the nurses who cared for Mom in her final weeks. The floor, however, was covered in shoes.
I’m a woman and stereotypes say that I should love seasons with names like Spring, Summer, and Fall. Football I tell you. Football is my favorite season.
Tonight’s game in New Orleans marks the beginning of a new NFL Champion and the end to my favored season. Admittedly, I dab at my eyes when ESPN plays their highlight reel with all the season’s biggest plays: the huge upsets, the triumphs, the passion, and raw emotion.