I was a bear today. Growly, bristly and short-tempered, for no good reason. I hate days like that.
After a burnt dinner, I scowled and put the dishes away, tidying up the relentless mess and feeling worn.
Every time we’re at the beach, she looks at me with her big, round hazel eyes and asks if I will jump off the dock with her.
And I say yes whenever I can.
In exchange for that single moment of elation after I put the dinner dishes away and don’t have to immediately yank the lunch fixings out of the fridge to assemble school meals for the next day, comes the starknes
I am not really sure how this happened, but my baby is eight today.
I grew up attending Sunday School every week, soaking in stories about Adam and Eve, Jonah and the Whale, and David and Goliath.
In the early spring, I decided to train for a 5 km run.