I’ll never do that, I thought. I’ll never pick up the phone one night twelve years from now to see if my son is on the line past bedtime because there will be no line to pick up. There are no circuits to break through and phones no longer come in two pieces linked by a vinyl curly-Q.
I don't journal or keep a diary...unless you consider this blog a diary of sorts, which I do. But there are some days when I would like Journal-with-a-capital-J to listen. Or Diary. Or Lady Galadriel. Or whatever I choose to name my paginated reflections. Some days I want Diary to be a friend. A confidante who … Continue reading Parenting through adolescence. Ew.