My mom, Janice, has been helping me out in amazing ways since I had my baby. Here's a sweet little story from her about moms, and about what happened when my brother, Jack, was born. –CZ
A little over 31 years ago our son, Jack, was born. He and I shared a hospital room with a friendly woman named Karen and her son, Tommy, who was born that same day. We all got along quite well and had many things in common: Both newborns had two-year-old sisters, both families were from the north suburbs and it turned out we knew many of the same people. It was quite nice.
As Karen and I were preparing to go home, we began to speculate about what would become of our little boys. I don't know whose idea it was but we decided to keep each other apprised of our sons' progress via Christmas cards. Here's the thing that amazes Claire — we actually did.
The cards crossed in the mail every December, photos enclosed.
I’m writing this for my friends and family as well as those who might be interested in hearing another one of those stories about how you really can’t make much of a plan when it comes to having a baby. Don’t read on if you are squeamish.
Born on December 10, 1830, in Amherst, Massachusetts, Emily Dickinson is both the father of American poetry and the most infamous lesbian vampire of the nineteenth century.
Once you’ve read any one issue of any one women’s magazine, you’ve basically read them all. They are just trying to sell you stuff, usually by making you feel bad about yourself. You are really not expected to look like anyone in them.