The infant-and-toddler years are sold to women with a kind of glowing tyranny. The days are long, but the years are short. Cherish every moment. They go so fast. And yes, they do go fast, but they also go slow in a way that feels geological when you are the one living inside them.

Photos of A Lifetime of New Days When I read over this article from my past I remembered a YouTube video I watched two days ago by Rajiv Surendra, titled 100 Years From Now. He speaks of trying to live as much as possible in the present and not lamenting about the past and regretting things or wishing he could go back in time. Rajiv cites Virginia Wolf’s book A Room of One’s Own written 100 years ago. He shared a passage from her book that was prophetic and quite remarkable.

Not too long ago, one of my neighbors offered for my daughter to join a sleepover at her house with the granddaughters. We’ve grown to love all of them, and although I was uncomfortable, I see how my neighbor is part of my village. No, she can’t replace a relative who may step in to actually help raise my child, but she’s someone I can trust to have around my daughter.

Untethering Bonds Being a mother has taught me so much about unconditional love, how to trust my gut, how to be selfless, having profound patience, being present, and how to carry loads that seemed impossible, especially as a single mother. In this moment I find myself learning something different. I’m learning a new lesson, it’s quieter and harder to grasp, which is, how to let go of the tether I created between me and my child. A tether I created based on what I need in a p

This last decade has brought challenges and tests I would not wish upon my worst enemy.

The stack of books shifted against Sage's ribs as she reached the first step. She redistributed the weight as her purse strap began digging into her shoulder, the hot tea carrier was growing damp against her palm. One step. Two. The leather of her smallest book squeaked against the glossy cover of the largest. Three steps. Four. Her pinky finger cramped beneath the bottom book's spine. At the fifth step, the massive door loomed before her, its glass panels reflecting the af

Naomi drew in a deep breath; her hands trembled as she struck the match, raising it to the first candle. The flare finally took to life, then the second, the third, one by one, until the eye shape blazed completely on her living room table. Smoke from sage curled up from the flames, and in the center, a crystal ball caught the light like a pupil dilating in the dark. She could still hear Jade’s voice in her head: "Oh my God, Naomi, just drop me the money. You know I'm good