Author: Stacy DeMarco

His Brother’s Shadow

My youngest son started Kindergarten five weeks ago. He was one month away from his fifth birthday—a peanut in my book—and separating from us at drop-off time was difficult.  Most mornings, he cried.  And, my older son, his big brother, started putting his arm around the back of his neck and lovingly guiding him in

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The Dog(gone) Days of Summer

In fact, I find that most Mondays I return to work more exhausted than when I left on Friday. Sure, part of it is that we are trying to cram too much fun into each weekend, but another part of it is simply that “relaxing” activities of my carefree, childless days now require significantly more energy and work in order to be successful (or survive).

A Letter to My Own Mom this Mother’s Day

I am sorry that I would push you and dad apart when you would kiss in the kitchen or hold hands in public because I thought it was gross. I now understand that you two never had any time alone to connect with one another as a couple. And, seeing you two show each other affection for all those years served to model the type of relationship that I wanted to have with my spouse.