Where is my Mommy?

“I am your mother, and I have the scars to prove it,” I thought. “I gave birth to you myself.” The more I thought about the grueling adoption process, the three failed adoptions we had had previously, and one of the roughest, first 18 months of life on record, I felt fairly secure I could call myself a mother. Moms, after all, endure it all. And, live on to fight another day. Here we all were. Living, happily, still fighting.

Review: Pink is for Boys

No. Just no. The premise of the idea: that every color is suitable for every person, is wonderful! Yes! This is exactly what we want to be teaching from the earliest age possible. Colors are, in fact, genderless. However (and I mean however in the strongest possible form of BUT possible), one actually has to carry through on a plan.

Review: P is for Pterodactyl

Oftentimes, I find myself in a classroom of English Learners having to explain how many different sounds the letter “A” can make in the English language. I see their eyes roll into the back of their heads, I’m left to explain: “there is no rule, it’s just English.” This book, ostensibly a children’s book, can teach everyone a thing or two.

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