Kimberly McCreight

…[E]ven I know that being a parent is awful ninety-five percent of the time…As far as I can tell, it’s that last five percent that keeps the human race from dying out. Four parts blinding terror, one part perfection. It’s like mainlining heroin. One taste of life on that edge and you’re hooked.

…[E]ven I know that being a parent is awful ninety-five percent of the time…As far as I can tell, it’s that last five percent that keeps the human race from dying out. Four parts blinding terror, one part perfection. It’s like mainlining heroin. One taste of life on that edge and you’re hooked.

– Kimberly McCreight –

Reconstructing Amelia

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Beth J. Harpaz

When they’re little, and you go for years without a good night’s sleep, you wonder if they’ll ever make it through to morning without finding some reason to wake you up. But then one day you look at the clock and it’s 7:30 a.m……For a panicked moment, you wonder if your child is—well, I can’t even say it. You leap out of bed and run into his room and if you haven’t wakened him up with all your commotion by then, you stand there for a minute trying to make sure that he’s still breathing. You see the chest rising and falling and you let out a sigh. There’s nothing wrong. He’s just growing up. He doesn’t need you anymore, is all; he doesn’t need to wake you up in the night.

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