The red and white tape that resembled the scene of a murder guided me to a place to leave my fifth grade daughter, far from the school...

While I pick dandelions and wild garlic with my preteen daughter to cook for dinner, our Swiss neighbor polishes his driveway, or maybe...

I hope these ideas help others too, while living in the midst of that horrible word pandemic:

...maybe we have our children to actively join the question of existing, to struggle, and then identify the beauty of small triumphs, beyon

Recently I’ve had a lot of trouble in my life, and if you’re anywhere near my age, you probably can relate. Stuff happens. Kids get hurt...

©Illustration by Amy Aves Challenger Already this year, the dandelions spread their way across the fields around my new home, painting...

Twelve years ago I reclined in a hospital bed on Thanksgiving day with a catheter attached to my lower half. My water had broken, and my...

You’re not alone. I want to say this to the mom who dares to tell me that she’s completely disorganized, that it feels like she’s not...

Those people who suffer— they’re the salt of this ocean and tree covered place. They’re the chance to find a purpose, to witness what’s so s

Think and pray and hope for every single child’s first day today and tomorrow. Think of every child's chance to learn, to live, to do so

I’m wordless sometimes. I know—it’s hard to believe:) But some days I wonder how a word could possibly come from me that would matter to...

Look what each of us is given— a chance in the other. A chance to learn, to be nutty, to get messy, to get hurt, to grow.

Isn't it funny? I see his strength and tenacity more as he fights his disease than I could see during his years of health. And so this f

That mom. She’s thinner, cooler, has more friends. She’s got better-behaved kids, a husband that loves her more, a better home

“She looks fine to me,” another mom said. I was talking about someone whom we both knew suffers with severe depression. “Depression looks...

We need the vulnerable ones to unglue us from our selfies, our cliques, our over-packed agendas, our power-driven races to one more race.

I once thought that I needed a place like Zürich, Switzerland or Marin County, California to find peace. I had to have beauty like you...

It was dark, and I was driving alone up a steep incline on the side of a Sierra mountain. All three car seats behind me were empty. On...

I never knew getting old, being a mom, would feel this way. Some mornings after I’ve swept the toast crumbs away, mopped up the splatters...

I’ve written a bit about the loveliness of expat life— about the beautiful shades of smiling mothers and children; the faces representing...