The Privilege of Motherhood: Celebrating my Children on Mother’s Day

I picked up my oldest daughter from preschool today and she walked out of class with a paper bag decorated with flower stickers and a gentle reminder from her teacher, “Remember, tell her not to open it until Sunday!” 

Zoe did not so much as glance at her teacher — or me– and proceeded to set the bag on the floor in the middle of the crowded hallway, pull out all the tissue paper and informed me, “These are the salt dough hearts that I was telling you about. So can I share your presents, Mom?”

No, she didn’t mean share them with me. What she meant was, “I just made some fun crafts at school and was told they were supposed to be for you, but I would really like to keep them. Is that allowed?”
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Why “13 Reasons Why” Will Not Convince Your Child to Kill Himself

I spent about five years of my life trying to kill myself. That’s one-fifth of my earthly existence. I try not to wave this card around too much, but there is so much fear surrounding subjects such as depression and suicide that we are ready to crucify anyone with an opinion that does not have first-hand experience. Actually, we’re ready to crucify anyone whose opinion doesn’t align with ours. I tried to overdose on pills many, many times — so many that I lost count — and you would be shocked at how many times I am told that this does not count as a suicide attempt because I “didn’t try hard enough.”

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To My Daughters

I wasn’t planning on blogging a week after having my second child, but I feel compelled to write when I learn something and I feel compelled to learn something when I have kids — especially my pair of firecrackers. Learn or drown. 

Zoe, bless your little heart for being our Guinea pig. You were the first newborn anything I ever held. Continue reading

Freedom Comes Not From Unlimited Choices, But From Knowing What You Want

I’ve lived most of my life with my options open, sampling from the tasting menu instead of picking a venue, sitting down, and completing a meal. I tried the whole carpe diem thing, richoceted between reckless impulses on the supposed road to happiness. Live for yourself, consequences be damned. 

All of that experience left me with this unshakable testimony: living for yourself is way overrated. 

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