Summer can be total bliss. On the other hand, as a working parent who doesn't get to slow down simply because the temp rises, it can feel a little daunting.
Everyone promises you'll love all your children just the same. The truth is, it's hardly possible. But there's no question you'll have enough to go around.
This June - this one - Im telling the story of how my father made a glib holiday into a tormented metaphor, an ugly tale. I am setting this story free.
The work of mothers never ends. The hours are long, the circumstances nearly impossible. We see you out there, mamas. Your efforts do not go unnoticed.
We can do this, all of us whove lost the ones we wanted so badly to stay. We can keep them alive, we can introduce them to our children, we can carry them in our stories.
Oversharenting, Dad-bod, manny, mommy-jacking- it seems like everyday, someone is creating a new word for parents to add to their lexicon. I have no use for any of them - so I invented my own.
Parents loathe Caillou, and I'm no different. But while his issues are banal to adults, and his whining maddening, to toddlers he's a comforting retreat.
