The days march, the apartment echoes, the tears well up. It’s my last week in Brooklyn, and I’m alternately excited and devastated. Saying goodbye is never easy, especially when it’s a place you feel so incredibly at home in.
Q of the Week : What's Your Earliest Memory?
Image courtesy of quinet via FlickrI worry all the time that I’m ruining my kids. That they’re learning bad habits, being turned neurotic by my parenting, or feeling misunderstood. It’s part of parenting, and I know I’m not alone in it. It still sucks. I also know that I’m not my mom, nor are my kids childhoods anything like mine was. This sometimes makes me ashamed, as I compare aspects of my past to their present, and come up wanting in the patience and calm categories.