When I was fifteen my friends and I made dating contracts. It was a compiled list of all the qualities potential boyfriends would need to have in order to make the cut. We signed them in blood and pinky-swore we would never settle for a boy who did not check off ALL of our requirements.… READ THE REST
I was 6 years old. I told you I didn’t want to ride the bus. You said it wasn’t up for discussion. I begged and pleaded. I cried and pulled my hair. You were unaffected. I threw myself on the ground and vowed never to speak to you again if you made me get on that bus.
A few weeks ago, I texted my ex-husband, asking him if we could all get together for my older son’s fourth birthday party. I was promptly hit with a hard and steady NO. It would be separate parties this year. One with mom, and one with dad.… READ THE REST
Sunday May 14th marks over a century of celebrating Mother’s Day in the United States. I consider myself a Mother’s Day expert because a) I’ve celebrated 3 and b) I used Wikipedia for this blog. Feel free to use me as an academic citation.… READ THE REST
There’s a common belief that as a mother, our needs are fulfilled last. Our food is always cold, we’re in a perpetual state of exhaustion, and the thank you’s for our service are few and far between. And that’s all true.… READ THE REST
I have told him that the past is past. I say that I don’t remember summer nights or the smell of sand. I’ve sworn that all memories of my last life have faded like cheap perfume. I play dumb as if I have forgotten the touch of shaky hands.… READ THE REST