Thank you for joining me here. And thanks for not being so cheery. I know the holidays are supposed to be a time for celebration, family and a renewed sense of hope. But some of us weren’t able to do that… and so, to we, the brokenhearted (my fiancee’ broke up with me three days before Christmas), those who couldn’t get home to our families, and those of us just not feeling the Hallmark moment we feel obligated to, cheers. Now that all the pressure is finally over, let’s get on with it.

But it’s not all sturm and drang… as a writer of memoirs, every life experience is fodder for the next book. So, with gratitude to those experiences, we now make lemonade.

With an eye toward the publication of my first book When the Bough Breaks, I would like to start the year off talking about Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, one the the main themes in this work. When I adopted a little boy from Romania, I was full of dreams for the life I would give a needy child and how he would complete my little family. George came to us a feral child, a wild animal in the body of a boy. The violence he rained down on us, his new family, nearly destroyed everything I thought motherhood to be.

Welcome to my journey. Can’t wait to share it with you.