The View From the Bottom Bunk

Today my second born, my baby boy, my fidgety ninja tornado of a son, turns six. Our whirlwind philosopher, our witty dervish, our baby who wasn’t supposed to be. What was scheduled to be our final cycle of fertility treatment, the last hurrah, our last-ditch effort to expand our family, had been canceled for medical reasons….

Flying Lessons

Last week, for the first time, my son balked at the mandatory “have a good day at school” kiss.  My first-born, my baby, my guy.  I watched him as he strolled off to hang out with his friends, an impossibly heavy backpack on those still narrow shoulders.  Nine and ten year-old boy bodies were draped…

The Heartbreak Kid

When I was pregnant with my second son, I had all the normal worries that any mom of an only has.  Would my heart expand like all the books said it would?  Would my firstborn hate me forever?  Would we be pilfering our pension funds to pay therapy bills for the rest of our lives?…