"So Sarah?" the teacher asked, in a question I had rehearsed with her, "what's it like to have a blind mom?""Well," my little girl said, in an unrehearsed answer, "it's like a regular mom, except Daddy won't let her drive his car."With that nonchalant reply in front of her second grade class, Sarah summed up the way my blindness has fit into the fabric of our family. It isn't a problem; it isn't even a novelty; it's just part of how we roll. My blindness has changed a few practical logistics. But in the end, kids are kids and moms are moms, and the dents and delights of parenthood are universal. As I told my daughter when she was very small, putting an only slightly different spin on the words my mom had said to me thirty years before, "The eyes in my face are broken, but the ones in the back of my head work just fine.""Daddy Won't Let Mom Drive the Car: True Tales of Parenting in the Dark" is a book of short vignettes-most of them lighthearted, a few more serious-about my life as the blind mother of a sighted daughter. Welcome to my journey!