There are so many topics they don’t prepare you for in those birthing and parenting books, so many things I wish someone had been honest with me about before I had Nora, and to that point I say to my friend two months away from giving birth to her first child, “Greer, this one is… Read More I have a rash on my head.
I’m a whirling dervish of futility lately. My calendar looks like a pixelated Rorschach blot. If I went color blind from some sudden aphasia from the stroke (I’m fated to have if I keep up this pace) our whole world would fall apart. So as I organized, color coded appointments once again to match the… Read More Whirling dervish of futility
The question came to me again. Am I as bad at this as I sound? I read through a comment on a past post that was meant to be flattering but thanked me for sucking at this thing called “parenting”. My original intention for this blog, much like parenting, was to create something for… Read More Am I as bad at this as I sound?
I was taking a walk with the kids. Which means collecting rocks, hugging trees, avoiding cigarette butts, dodging patches of phlegm (side note STOP SPITTING, it’s disgusting!), and my anxiety ratchets up with every step. Nora is running to each tree in the parkway, skipping between them, as she turns to me breathlessly, “I just… Read More “Re-weird-iss” people and other dangers.
My parenting is more like the show Louie than Mary Poppins. I quite often wait for them to sleep and feel my days at times punctuated by this rhythm of cook, feed, clean, play, sleep, repeat… I’ll notice I’m going on autopilot and sense their malaise as they pass over the toys their habituated to… Read More Oh, to be well-intentioned.
Nora is grinning and bearing her belly. I look up from writing and smile, “Uh-oh, is my hand going to tickle you?” A squeal of laughter and she’s off running after answering, “YES!” Owen joins in and chases after her giggling, “Nawnie-nawnie-na-na, sista’!!” We tickle her tummy and then Nora turns to Owen, “Oo-ie?! Do you… Read More Consent starts with parents.
“Artist Turns DNA From Chewed Gum Into Sculptures” the article in Popular Science said. My brain immediately grumbled to myself, “Goddamn hipsters and their coffee cups on our fence and walls… They’re all for saving the planet but not if it means giving up cigarettes and paper cups of coffee that they litter on our… Read More Dog mines, diaper bombs, and coffee kids.
– Stinky garbage can? Stuck bag, again? Baking soda at the bottom of the can. It wards off mold and mildew, absorbs moisture, and it keeps the bag from sticking making it less likely to rip and easier to pull out. Find a mess at the bottom of the can when you pull the bag… Read More Parenting hacks for whackadoos: Part 3
“What’s So Terrible About Two?” The benign article asked. My brain screamed, “Really? REALLY, assholes?!” They meant to be uplifting in their message, they meant to give people hope, to show that it isn’t that bad. At least I think so but I had trouble reading it as Owen was busy pulling a skintag off… Read More Toddlerhood: A test of a parents love
“It’s madness.” My friend, Molly, texts me to ask how I’m doing and that was my response. She’s my life-line to the outside world at times and always manages to make me smile. Our virtual conversations brighten my life and go back some seven plus years now online and started the day I pretended to… Read More The marrow of joy.
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