The Escape Artist

When my son was born, he came out angry, two weeks early and mad as hell. “He looks like a prosecutor,” the nurses said. Fast forward two years. He wouldn’t hold my hand while walking to and from the car. He wouldn’t hold my hand in parking lots. He was always running away inside of… Continue reading The Escape Artist

The Daycare Quandary

When my kids were young, I had a hard time finding sitters for them in my affluent bedroom community near San Francisco. The local kids didn’t need the money, and my then-husband wouldn’t spring for a nanny. Not that I wanted one. I wanted to raise my own kids. Every now and then, it was… Continue reading The Daycare Quandary