Last night I went through a brief but intense bout of depression. Almost jump off a bridge material. Not really, I would never. But in that vein.
I thought of how bad our relationships with our parents have become. I imagined a worst-case future where the naysayers were proven correct, you know the ones who say you'll be the same when you're that age.
I can tell you I would rather lose the use of all my limbs than end up in a relationship with my kids like the ones our parents have with us. Perhaps the strongest incentive I have for plugging away at the latter, trying to find a way through various impasses, is to flout the fates and build up some familial karma so that we in turn can build on that and have something better.
If you, dear reader, had a lousy relationship with your folks, but have managed to build something better with your kids, feel free to share.
Nearly Two - For more than a year, after Antonia’s bath, I would wrap her up in a towel and jiggle her up and down in front of the mirror. ‘Who’s my baby bundle, who’s ...
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