When the Flashing Lights Fail.

When the Flashing Lights Fail.

I am a Helicopter Mom. No shame here, no self-deprecating humor, there is really no other option for this child tornado of mine. Maybe helicopter isn’t the right word, I think I’m more like the car with the flashing lights that travels behind the Wide Load...
Some rules are meant to be broken.

Some rules are meant to be broken.

Michael was born on the floor of a bus station. He was abandoned, withdrawing from drugs and in pain. He spent three weeks in the NICU, and was discharged weighing only 5 lbs. Since the launch of Generation Justice, I have read hundreds of these stories, maybe...
“They don’t need another backpack, Mom.”

“They don’t need another backpack, Mom.”

I was coming out of an Ace Hardware the other day – feeling super handy, I might add – and on the way to my car, I saw a woman standing by a table raising money. It was a legit 100-gazillion degrees in Phoenix and I was entirely prepared to do the polite...
The Opposite of Yelling

The Opposite of Yelling

I was sick this week. Throwing up throughout the night, curled up in fetal position at the base of the toilet, not sure how clean the bath mat is, I do not even care, I will never eat blue cheese in a salad again, SICK. Being sick as an adult is lousy. Being sick as a...
To Johnny, on your 17th Birthday.

To Johnny, on your 17th Birthday.

Dear Johnny, I know this isn’t where you thought you would be at age 17. Still in the foster system, a day pass on your birthday, preparing to be shuffled around again, and then again and again. I know. As a child, you must have thought ahead to 17 and pictured...
An Unlikely Intersection

An Unlikely Intersection

Last week, a family asked about adopting my foster son, Johnny. A family. Adoption. This was a big deal for a sixteen year old foster kid who moved in with me last month because he had nowhere else to go and had every intention of aging out of the system as an orphan....