Originally Posted on Huffington Post Because bullying is such a shameful and childish behavior, we are often quick to dismiss the issue as something uniquely belonging to children. Children are still feeling their way through life, forming morals and values, and emerging through experiences with a developing sense of self. It's far easier to excuse this type of behavior from little ones, as we can easily justify that "they didn't know any better," or "they are still learning
Originally posted on Huffington Post It all starts on Sunday afternoon. That overwhelming sensation that the weekend is coming to an end, the ominous notion that Monday is just around the corner (again?!), the realization that all fun weekend-ey things are coming to a close. The feeling gets louder as the day progresses: Monday is coming, Monday is coming! And then it happens, I wake up to Monday -- with a case of the Monday Morning Mommy Blues. With my husband headed off to
Originally posted on Huffington Post Dear Dad,
I still remember you. The memories shift and fade over the years, but you are not forgotten. I remember your dimples and the way you smiled with your eyes. I remember your dark curly hair, your olive skin, your Levi's jeans, and the Rolex that jangled on your wrist. I remember your passion and excitement for inside jokes and family traditions; the pride and adoration for your children that poured out of you like sparkling gold.
Originally posted on Twiniversity.com I can't really explain how my pregnancy taught me to eat intuitively until you understand why eating was such a big deal for me. My history with food and body image is not a good one. For 15 years I suffered, unable to pull myself out of the murky eating disorder waters long enough to reach out for help. I couldn't understand when people were concerned about my deteriorating health. My "eating disorder self" told me two things: one, that
Originally posted on Huffington Post A few years back, my husband gave me a charming and eye-opening anniversary card. On the cover were little buttons forming the shape of a big heart. His message inside read: If I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability to see yourself through my eyes. Only then, would you see how special you are to me. The idea that we each perceived "me" in different ways was not a new concept to me. It was however, a subtle reminde