When People Ask What I Write About,

I Have No Doubt That Over The Years My Children Will Find Plenty Of Things About Me To Criticize. But Something Tells Me That Twenty Years From Now Not One Of Them Will Sit On Some Therapist's Couch Complaining Because Their Mother Didn't Spend Enough Time Vacuuming Up Glitter.

A Person Who Deserves My Loyalty Receives It.

In The Event Of An Oxygen Shortage On Airplanes, Mothers Of Young Children Are Always Reminded To Put On Their Own Oxygen Mask First, To Better Assist The Children With Theirs. The Same Tactic Is Necessary On Terra Firma. There's No Way Of Sustaining Our Children If We Don't First Rescue Ourselves. I Don't Call That Selfish Behavior. I Call It Love.

When People Ask What I Write About, That's What I Tell Them: 'the Drama Of Human Relationships.' I'm Not Even Close To Running Out Of Material.

For 25 Years, I Did Take My Responsibilities As A Pleaser Of Others Sufficiently Seriously.