Choice

I am a horrible parent. The kind that my children will definitely swap stories about when they go to college, and I’ll win an unofficial award for the cruel and unusual punishment that I put my kids through on a daily basis.

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The shelf was near overflowing for months, but I wouldn’t admit it. There was always more than a sliver of space which was an open invitation to keep piling. Photo albums, cookbooks, and children’s books my kids had outgrown years ago. All happily co-existed – until they didn’t.

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Things at work were stressful, to put it mildly. Stupid policy changes were getting in the way of doing great work. No matter where you turned, people were talking about the new policy and not saying nice things. The CEO put out clever messaging via the standard channels, but people weren’t buying what he was selling. It was ugly. 

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