Hi guys! Well, we’re in the homestretch for this year’s project! Updates: My son’s school has taken this up as their community service project for December. They set up bins around the campus to collect donations. They also took an excerpt from the first piece I wrote on homelessness, publishing it in their weekly post. My mind is officially blown. When I told Luca that I’d written this page, he.
I don’t talk about my husband much here. It’s not something he requested, it’s a choice I made on my own. He’s a private person (he doesn’t even have a Facebook account – WHAT), so it would feel horrible and gross for me to disrespect that part of him. I mean, I can’t imagine getting on here and sharing really intimate details about us. Add to that, the fact that.
Not long ago, Luca saw me forcefully stomp on a snail (that was missing half it’s shell). Crunch. I made it quick, because the thought of suffering, in creatures big and small, makes my heart heavy. “Why did you just step on that snail” he asked. “Because, I wanted to put it out of its misery,” I told him. It would have been much easier had it ended there. But,.
One rainy Monday evening, Luca’s baby brother lost his chita, and his mommy, her mind. This footage was left behind after he went Ni Ni. Warning: The preceding scenes depict graphic audio of the witching hour and may be disturbing to some viewers and also make some people decide not to have kids, like, ever. *Chita = Blankie **I’m yelling at his chita, not at him. I was trying to.
Luca: Mommy, yesterday, on the playground, Julian and I pretended that we were convincible. You pretended what, honey? Luca: That we were convincible. Oh. How do you play that game? Luca: Mommy! It’s not a game. It’s just when we pretend we’re convincible. Like, nothing can kill us. Ohhhhh, you mean, invincible? Luca: That’s what I said, mommy, convincible. Okay, buddy, gotcha. _ _ For someone so convincible, the kid’s.