The deeper I get into mothers' rights work, the more often I end up thinking about men and fathers. While there is no dispute that women, even now, do much more of the caregiving and homemaking than men, men's lives have changed both at home and at work as a result of women's leaps in education and employment outside the home. Changes in the activity of one gender are necessarily going to be felt, one way or another, by the other....more
I can hear it in the exasperation when we speak on the phone and you carefully craft your sentences, trying not to let on that you have no more solutions and have run out of patience. You’ll never say the words out loud, but I see them there behind everything you do say: You’re giving up on my kid.
The book Are You There, God? It’s me, Margaret by Judy Blume, who recently celebrated her 77th birthday, is the reason behind my first “sex” talk with my mother.
I don’t remember how old I was, maybe eight or nine when I read the book, but I do remember thinking that I was pretty savvy for knowing what a bra was. I guess that sounds fairly innocent now. Back then elementary school kids weren’t snapchatting pics of their privates. Anyway, I was proud of myself for understanding most of the material.
I had everything under control, and then my pregnancy test turned positive. I was 21 years old.
It’s a situation that virtually every woman has imagined herself in or avoided being in countless times over, so it’s probably easy to empathize with. Imagine being two months out of college, unmarried, no health insurance, no savings and a packed schedule of job interviews. You’re standing alone in the bathroom, and the positive pregnancy test your mother urged you to buy is lying on the sink.
When you hear about someone going through a midlife crisis, you usually think of that stereotypical scenario of some guy in his forties impulsively buying a sports car and dumping his wife for a younger woman. ...more
As women, many of us pride ourselves in our composure, femininity, and grace.
I like being the woman of my husband’s life. In his mind, I do not pass gas, I am patient and kind, smart and quick witted. I am his wife and his best friend. We are equals.
However, when pregnancy enters the picture, all that flies out the window.
Let me just start with me acknowledging that that some people are not going to like this post.
The more I share on my blog about my mom-fails, the more people comment to me online about how horrible my parenting actually is. I fully recognize that I am not perfect, and in sharing posts like this, I am really trying to share my stories of what I have done (right or wrong), and hopefully I can help out other people who are going through the same things.
If you want to jump right into the belly of the parenting beast in 2015, just mention the words screen time: a term that only emerged in the last few years to encompass all of the electronics in our lives and how much we use them.
We looked through old papers tonight, pages of them, some in English, most in Spanish, documents pulled out of a torn white envelope, each one signifying some step in the adoption of one of our three children from Nicaragua.
In the papers were names we had forgotten, names of people and places.