I used everything you gave me.

The family. We are a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms. . . and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.

There is a thin line that separates laughter and pain, comedy and tragedy, humor and hurt.

There is nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child. ... Time, self-pity, apathy, bitterness, and exhaustion can take the Christmas out of the child, but you cannot take the child out of Christmas.

It takes a lot of courage to show your dreams to someone else.

When children reach the age of sixteen, they discover the meaning of life: car keys.

My kids always perceived the bathroom as a place where you wait it out until all the groceries are unloaded from the car.