Kelly Burch

“Sleep when the baby sleeps” is the cruelest thing you can say to a new parent. It sounds oh-so-simple, doesn’t it? Just like my sleep advice sounded all those years ago, before I knew the harsh reality of parenting. It’s impossible to sleep when the baby sleeps if the baby is only down for 10 minutes at a time!

Don’t talk politics. Do. Not. This old adage is more important than ever this year, with an election that started off bad and has gotten consistently worse.

As my own home ownership dreams were delayed, I was able to look back on my parents’ decision to rent with a lot more understanding. My parents sometimes struggled to keep the electricity on, but they always made sure that the rent was paid, and that my siblings and me had a wonderful home, no matter whose name was on the deed.

By introducing my father’s illness as a fact during a time when his mental health had no negative effects on my life, my parents enabled me to live without stigma, which in turn empowered me to advocate for my father’s treatment when his health took a turn for the worse my freshmen year of college.

A family's day of celebration became a nation's day of mourning.

Last week, as the U.S.

“How many time have I asked you….” I say in frustration, and then it hits me. The real question I should be asking is how many times I’ve uttered that phrase.