Can you hate someone for what they have done, but still love them for whom they had been?

That's the strange thing about being a mother: until you have a baby, you don't even realize how much you were missing one

Many trees have died so that the Catholic Church can preach against homosexuality.

I'm telling you, if aliens landed on earth today and took a good hard look at why babies get born, they'd conclude that most people had children by accident, or because they drink too much on a certain night, or because birth control isn't one hundred percent, or for a thousand other reasons that really aren't very flattering.

Eventually, I told myself not to expect anything from him, and as a result it has gotten easier for me to take what comes.

Someone real," I hear myself saying. "Someone who never has to pretend, and who I never have to pretend around. Someone who's smart, but knows how to laugh at himself. Someone who would listen to a symphony and start to cry, because he understands music can be too big for words. Someone who knows me better than I know myself. Someone I want to talk to first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Someone I feel like I've known my whole life, even if I haven't.

Rest easy, real mothers. The very fact that you worry about being a good mom means that you already are one.