If I Told You About All The

You Lay Your Hand Against His Skin And Just Rib His Back. Blow Into His Ear. Press That Baby Up Against Your Own Skin And Walk Outside With Him, Where The Night Air Will Sourround Him, And Moonlight Fall On His Face. Whistle, Maybe. Dance. Hum. Pray. (how To Calm A Crying Baby)

I Continued To Protect Him With My Silence.

One Of The Sad Realities Of Being A Parent Is That The Same Stuff You Know Is Exciting, Educational, And Enriching In Your Child'slife Is Often Messy, Smelly And Exhausting To Deal With.

The Vehemence With Which Certain Critics Have Chosen Not Simply To Criticize What I've Written, But To Challenge My Writing This Story At All, Speaks Of What The Book Is About: Fear Of Disapproval.

Nothing Like Being Visible, Publishing One's Work, And Speaking Openly About One's Life, To Disabuse The World Of The Illusion Of One's Perfection And Purity.