One day you look up from your routine, your life, and realize three years has passed by. I’ve always thought of life as a whirlpool—when you’re young you are bobbing around at the periphery and seem to be hardly moving. …
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An Ode to My Daughter’s Hair
When my daughter was born her hair was like spider silk. It couldn’t be combed or styled, just smoothed down in a rough dome shape. By the time she turned one, her hair wasn’t thick enough to hold even the…
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