Currently, I can do no wrong in my daughter’s life. As we walk along the sidewalk towards school, she hangs off my arm declaring, “Oh my mommy… MY mommy, MommyWommy!”… and at home she spontaneously tells me she loves me, constantly. I get lots of hugs for no reason, and lately she thinks my outfits [...]
…it was going to be grand: Rada would get back mobility in her arm. We would preserve the cast for posterity, displayed in some honored place in her room, not unlike a moose head. For me, life would return normal: No more lady-in-waiting. And no more strange contraptions constructed out of plastic bags and masking [...]
Last week, Rada fell off the monkey bars at school and fractured her wrist.
I got the call at noon on a Friday and rushed to school to find a sobbing girl cradling her arm in the nurse’s office. A series of trips to primary care and Children’s Hospital resulted in the fine cast you see [...]
The principal of my daughter’s school is an African American man. The governor of the state we live in is an African American man. And our president-elect is an African American man. But these men are so much more than the mere color of their skin or accident of their gender. They’re all good parents, [...]