A couple weeks ago, Charlotte concluded her second year at the French preschool nearby.  It was bittersweet. On the one hand, I remember the day we dropped her off at preschool for the very first time.  I was enormously pregnant with →MORE...

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Jun 03, 2014
I am looking at her, taking her in, and I am absolutely blown away.  My head spins thinking about the myriad of ways in which I am unworthy.  But the road I traveled brought me to her.  To her beautiful hair.  →MORE...

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About a week after our foster daughter – let’s call her Polliwog for the sake of expediency – arrived in our home, I met one of her relatives.  Until that fateful moment I had always operated under a rather misguided belief →MORE...

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Charlotte: How old is Daddy? Me: 37. Oh.  Wow!  People don’t usually last that long!

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The last few weeks have been particularly intense for our family.  I cannot really pinpoint one reason WHY this has been the case.  Maybe we overscheduled ourselves?  Or set unrealistic goals in our yardwork and housework?  Maybe the stress of the →MORE...

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