I recently had this conversation with my 9 year-old daughter, Selah: S: Mom, you remind me of the pig from…
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Faith
We Miss Del: Reflections on Grief & Hope
I was dressed in black for this unexpected, grievous occasion. The motorcade snaked slowly through the city and into the…
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My Word for 2017 and A Book Giveaway
There seems to be this word-for-the-year bandwagon that many are jumping on these days. I’m leery of most trends but…
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Do It Afraid
Some of you {read: Mom} may remember that I started a blog a few years ago as a way to…
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![When I think back to the early months of motherhood, those bleary-eyed, overwhelming days (nights?) of colic and learning the needs of my first born, I can hardly believe we're here.
The toddler who traipsed around in Huggies and heels, singing made-up tunes and chatting with her hilarious imaginary friend, Lackey, outgrew my heels two years ago. And for the past year, I've been looking up to her--literally.
The longer I parent, the more I discover this gift to be one long, winding road of learning to let go. From the moment she said, "My do it, Mommy," I knew we had begun to leave the days of her tiny hand snuggled in mine.
And while I know these seasons of greater independence are part of her journey, I'm still surprised when they arrive with another milestone at my door, another invitation to release. Some days I ache to hold on just a little longer.
Happy 17th, Sissy.
You're a gift to our home, to your friends, to this aching world.
[ID: A white teen girl with brown hair in 2 braids, wearing black leggings and a black hoodie, is walking in the woods. Sun beams are coming through the trees as she walks away from the camera.]
#Parenting #LettingGo](https://i0.wp.com/www.katiecarper.com/wp-content/plugins/instagram-feed/img/placeholder.png?ssl=1)