It is always during the first month of the year I remember.
I remember that night twenty-seven years ago.
A cold winter night that was supposed to be like any other.
Except it wasn’t.

I had two little girls, active toddlers who were tired of being cooped up inside.
There were books to read and blanket forts to make.
There were endless, imaginary kitchen concoctions to feast on.
There was an air of playfulness that was expected but not felt.

Something was wrong.

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Talk to any mother and she will have her own discipline stories.
She will tell you what works for her children and what is not effective at all.
If you put the various methods together, they would make a very interesting book.
However, not necessarily an effective one, since every child and every family is different.

It is good for mothers to share stories.
It is good to hear you are not alone as you raise the next generation.
It is good to sift through the stories you hear, incorporating some into your own life.
Tossing away others that would simply not work for your child.

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I started my Christmas shopping.
I am one of those people who begin shopping in the fall.
My husband always appreciated that since it spaced out the purchases a bit.
I enjoy the everything about the whole gift giving process.

I love choosing the right gift for the person.
I imagine their face when they open it.
I love hiding the presents, even now.
The only thing I do not like is the wrapping.

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Before her feet hit the floor, she heard it.
The knock on the bedroom door.
Someone needed her.
Someone was sick or had to go to the bathroom.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and opened the door.
She saw her child; no dancing eyes, and hot to the touch.
I don’t feel so good, the understatement of the year.
As she led her back to her room, it happened, all over the floor.

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As I was visiting my son, who is now a lawyer, I was a bit wistful.
As I watched him walk with his father, talking about the things of men, I paused.
Where did the little boy go?
Where is the boy who wore baseball hats and football jerseys?

Where is the boy who read the sports page every morning?
The boy who lined his baseball helmets up according to which teams were playing.
The boy who played football on the lawn and pretended that he was both teams.
Running back and forth; one team going one way, one team going the other.

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