Attachment parenting

Oct 28, 2010
Sometimes, I can see a rough morning coming a mile away.  And as my daughter fusses, angrily rubs her eyes and writhes about on the bed, I know that THIS is one of those mornings.  She hasn’t been awake five minutes →MORE...

Sometimes I lay there as she sleeps, listening to her rhythmic breathing, smelling that scent I so adore, feeling her body warm against mine.  My fingers trace her curls, the soft curves of her cheeks, her still and chubby fingers.  The →MORE...

Oct 11, 2010
We are standing at the park, pushing our babies on the swings, talking about the lengths we travel to keep our children safe and their environment healthy.  The stainless steel sippy cups and the solar panels.  The natural finish on wood →MORE...

Oct 04, 2010
When my daughter was freshly born, new and red and wrinkled with ridges on her skull, I felt as though breastfeeding swallowed me whole.  I did not so much consider myself a mother as I did a breastfeeder.  If my baby →MORE...

There is a creek that runs near my home.  It twists and turns through hills, dips down a deep ravine, and then idly bubbles behind our suburb until it empties into an ocean drain.  When I was a child, playing in →MORE...