Having a child changes everything. I was warned about the sleep deprivation and the way my body would never forgive me (though it has), but I was never told how much a baby can change your marriage.
How am I supposed to empower my daughter in this America?
While I want her to grow and thrive, while I want her to be strong and independent, I’m not ready to teach her how to shave.
Oh, mama: I hear you now. You are berating yourself. Questioning yourself. Criticizing yourself.
I thought the guilt and confusion was normal. I thought the tears were normal. I thought I was just adjusting my new mommy role.
Thanksgiving isn’t about a meal. It isn’t about where you eat or even what you do. It is about expressing gratitude, and giving thanks.
There is more to having a child then simply having the desire to have a child.
How long before she turns to us and asks to ring doorbells alone? How long before we “become lame,” before the whole damn day becomes lame?
It was not until I saw the World Trade Centers burn, not until we saw the skyline — our skyline —swallowed by fire and smoke and soot, I grasped the gravity of what was happening.
While the breast may in some ways “be best,” it certainly isn’t “the tits.”
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