Beware the pesticles and men-o’-claws.… Read More Pesticles and other hazards.
The over share. That moment when your child ups the ante, tilts your world, and calls you out. When all the self-esteem boosting, the positive parenting, the talks about “using your words” and “speaking up” comes around to bite you in the ass. Or, in this case, my uterus. It was an average Wednesday in… Read More Real names for real stuff.
Owen was two. He was speaking seventeen words. He told his dad he loved him. I barely could get him to say “mama”. Home with him every hour of the day and he tells his father, “I love you.” I was Barbara’s jealous resentment. He rarely kissed. If he did it was without using his… Read More Fork you and your words.
Nora said, “I want a baby doll that looks like Owen so he knows I love him and I can hold him.” I hugged her and bit back tears, “You are so kind…he knows you love him. Someday he’ll say it to you too but, trust me, he knows that you love him. He loves… Read More The doll will show him.
“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
Remember the first time you understood what “popular” meant? Do you remember if you thought immediately as to whether or not it applied to you? I’ve never thought of myself as popular. Friendly, yes, but I was never prom queen or the girl with a full paper heart mailbox of Valentines from school. It makes… Read More Thank you for being a friend…
It’s the small moments of letting go that are the closest I come to feeling like maybe I have this mom-thing figured out for once. It’s the moment when Owen climbs into bed and blankets my head with his body and I chuckle in rare, surrendered delight instead of annoyance at being awoken yet again throughout… Read More 2 years and 4.9 years
Nora was crying inconsolably after having a fight with Owen. He had just started walking at the time and was officially learning how to be a royal pain in the ass. She was a conflicted jumble of emotions. Loving her brother fiercely, desparately irritated with him, hurt to have to share our attention, pained to… Read More I have proof