With dwindling faith and lots of fear we boarded the plane to Armenia and arrived very late in a foreign land. That night we prayed on the three stars, went to sleep, and hoped that with the morning light our wish would come true.
I want to know why the script is different when approaching mothers like me. Why is it that if you're Mrs. So and So who serves on the PTA and lives in a nice subdivision, the language is "You're not failing," but when you're a Ms. you're automatically assumed at risk?
When I pictured a sleep consultant I envisioned a kindly woman who hid in the shadows and sang my son a lullaby whenever he stirred. In actuality, a sleep consultant is less a ninja songstress, and more head coach to your quarterback. She called the plays, I made the moves.
