This time of year we get to see all the beautiful pics of our friends and families’ perfect families on perfect cards and perfect social media posts, and it makes us all feel perfectly insufficient. It just does. We’re so glad for them, but also worried for us. Are we getting it all wrong? Did …
FORGIVE ME FOR NOT BLOGGING MUCH ANYMORE. I’M WRITING A BOOK, AND IT’S REALLY HARD. WHY DOES NO ONE SAY HOW HARD IT IS? OH, THAT’S, LITERALLY, ALL ANYONE EVER SAYS ABOUT WRITING A BOOK? K. WELL, ANYWAY….I’M WRITING A BOOK. IT’S HARD. AND I’M TRYING NOT TO THINK ABOUT WHETHER ANYONE WILL WANT TO …
So, a few months ago, Robb and I more-or-less switched places. For the past few years, I’ve been working while he started our business. Now, he’s working to support our bread habit, and I’m working part-time and running the business, being with the kids more, and *writing (see also: not writing). I’m not actually …
I’ve recently been learning some things about myself. It sucks. Personal growth is cool and all, but why does it require so much work and discomfort? Part of my reason for wanting to work less hours was to be with my kids more, especially as we’ve been dealing with some rage-y behavior issues from one …
(“I CHOOSE MY CHOICE! I CHOOSE MY CHOICE!” screams Charlotte into the phone to Miranda in Season 4 of HBO’s most ancient show ‘Sex and the City.’ She’s declaring that she’s come to terms with staying home to redecorate her Park Avenue apartment and try to have a baby while her cardiologist husband (the most cardboard …
Midwestern women apologize, on average, 900 times per minute, dontcha know. We don’t actually mean, “I’m sorry” like we feel regret, we just say it instead of “excuse me,” “thank you,” “hello” or “sandwich.” It’s as natural as breathing for us. Ope, sorry about that. It’s as natural as breathing in the summer months. In …
Being a woman is to rage quietly. I am furious, but I have to express it delicately, cautiously, or not at all. I cannot hurt anyone’s feelings with my hurt, or draw too much attention to myself. I am the floor mat, the family dog. I do not get to complain, I’m just here for …
This was originally published on 10/29/2010, with the title, “i cried.” It was written by my husband, Robb. We had just had an ultrasound that showed the heart beat of our 3rd pregnancy, which would become our first child. This little flicker turned into our Henry. He’s turning seven years old this week. I can still …
Here’s the ugly truth. I’m not sure I should have been a parent. I worked SO hard to get the kids we have, and now I’m fucking it all up. I’m not very good at it. I get really, really angry and frustrated, I’m not patient, I get bored easily, I get crazy annoyed by …
Girls and women are taught that their sacrifice is the ultimate sign of character. Doing for others, anticipating others’ needs, supporting all the parts of all the people…you can never really give too much. Also, part of the love language that many women use is worry. We fret, therefore, we care. I lived …