It’s no secret my siblings and I were raised by wolves. Being the product of a desert-raised dweller growing up in the 80’s, my mom’s philosophy to mothering was this, “Outside!” My five siblings and I spent hours on end out of eyesight, playing in the gullies and washes of our Arizona home. We only came home at dusk or to be fed or when someone needed stitches; and we didn’t return to the house until our wildly concocted stories matched of why Child A hit her head on a pipe. Besides, mom didn’t really need to know the reason why …
