Strange Voices And New Memories
There are strange voices in my house.
There are strange voices in my house.
I knew there was something wrong with me. I assumed it was because the labor was so difficult. If I waited long enough, all of my bad feelings would suddenly go away.
When we hear of hard-knock cases that have had to move their families into shelters, or new countries for that matter, to escape poverty, war, natural disasters, danger, we say, “Well if that was me, I’d…”
The reality is that it isn’t us. Until it is.
It has come to my attention that I am a pervert.
After defeat, it was our reawakening.
The gremlin is ruthless in his accusations.
I think about how so many things have changed. Perhaps it isn’t yet ornery teenagers that we are fending off, but I can see the shift in the making.
My husband is not a dog person.
My kids ask me from their perches in the backseat why I stare into cars. The answer is easy: to catch a glimpse into another person’s life.
By focusing on areas that you love about yourself and your spouse, this helps soften the blow when it’s time to talk about the tough stuff, such as areas for improvement.