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Oct
18
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 Last year when I was in Iraq, I had this odd dream. I dreamt that my oldest daughter asked me what its like to be a mommy. In my dream, I told her that it was a lot like teaching her to swim. At first, I had to show her that she was safe in the water. Then she had to learn to float with my hands beneath her supporting her. Eventually, I had to let go and let her swim on her own. | |||
Blog Posts by Jessica Scott
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Sep
29
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Okay, my little one has a VERY active imagination. In addition to having an amazing memory, things I wouldn’t think an almost 4-year-old would recall, she’s got a couple of imaginary friends, Tom and Jerry (yes, the Tom & Jerry). | |||
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Aug
30
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Last year, my husband and I were in Iraq and we missed our oldest starting Kindergarten. We made a big deal out of it when we started her down here in our new town midway through the school year, but it wasn’t the same. We lucked out and had a phenomenal kindergarten teacher who worked with us through some of our oldest’s struggles. Things like starting a new school. Meeting new people. And completely regressing on reading, writing and everything. | |||
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Jul
28
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When I first discovered EP, it was through an old high school friend of mine who told me about the site. I’d just experienced another Category 5 Tory (my oldest) meltdown and I was on the edge of my last nerve with her. See, my oldest has had a significant amount of upheaval in her young life. In the 5 years she’s been on the planet, Daddy has been gone for more than half her life. Mommy was gone for 18 months of it. So she’s been fending for herself, more or less, and has some challenges in expressing herself. | |||
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Jun
22
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It’s hard to believe, but it’s been four months now since I first stepped off that plane from Iraq. So much has changed and yet, so much still remains. January and February will go down as the worst months. Lots of crying and screaming and yelling as the kids tried to figure out where they fit and what they could get away with. Lots of tears on my part as guilt ate away at my soul, part for leaving and the other part for coming home and uprooting them once more. There was the panic over my oldest going from loving school to hating it. The daily battles to get her up in the morning and the ever-present food battles where my oldest proved just how stubborn she truly was. Read more » | |||
