It’s A Small World After All
There was always something vaguely familiar about my son’s kindergarten teacher. The way she moved her hands. Her voice. Something
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There was always something vaguely familiar about my son’s kindergarten teacher. The way she moved her hands. Her voice. Something
I was thinking about all my friends who, IRL and in the bloggy land, have kids entering Kindergarten. I do
At 29 years old, after a precarious pregnancy and the subsequent traumatic events following the birth of my daughter, I