Three weeks ago, I logged into my first class in Seattle University's Clinical Mental Health Counseling program. Back in 2011, I started studying for the GRE with a similar intention. Then life happened, and that path got set aside before I ever sent an application. So opening my laptop that first night felt bigger than the start of a semester. It felt like picking up a thread I'd put down fifteen years ago. I expected to be busy, and I am. What I didn't expect was how quickl

Somewhere in the third trimester, people start saying it. Let me know if you need anything. Your mother-in-law says it. Your coworkers say it. Your neighbor says it over the fence. And most of us answer the same way. Thanks! We're good. We plan for the baby's needs. Ours are harder to say out loud. There's a registry for the baby. There is no registry for the person who will be awake at 3 a.m. wondering if she's allowed to wake someone up. Meal trains. Night help. Someone to

I spent my twenties and a good part of my thirties as a nanny for families across Seattle. Most of them were first-time parents, and they were prepared. The car seat was installed weeks early. The sleep books were read. There were lists, and there were lists for the lists. Then the baby came home, and the questions started. Is this normal? What do I do when she won't stop crying? How do I handle this? These were smart, loving people who had planned for everything. What I noti