“Mom, let’s see how strong you are at Mario.” My five-year-old waves a Wii remote at me. I remember what Scott told me two days ago: “That hour I spent playing Wii with him meant so much, Joy. Even though I’m terrible at it.” I smile, and close the lid of my laptop. “I’m weak at…

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I never know whether to write about my husband, father to my children, or about my dad on Father’s Day. These men, along with my father-in-law, are the most important men in my life, and I never want any one of them to feel overlooked. So this year, I’m writing about all three of them.…

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I pick my way through the minefield of Legos set between me and the laundry. One Lego escapes detection and stabs square at the plantar wart that’s been throbbing up my leg for two months. I yelp and hop and fold over on myself. Tears blur the mayhem of puzzle pieces, Barbie clothes, still more…

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“Mommy, will you come with me to the bathroom? You haven’t done it in awhile,” he wheedles, an expert in emotional manipulation at just four years of age. He’s right – I’d just returned from 8 days in Bolivia and hadn’t been available to keep him company in that most fearful of rooms in our…

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