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I’m starting to loathe Mother’s Day

I’ve started becoming a recluse on Mother’s Day weekend. I’m of an age where it’s assumed I am a mother and am generally given a cheery “Happy Mother’s Day” by every retail clerk with whom I come into contact (yes, even though there are no children with me). The issue is that I am not and I, in my over-abundant need to be truthful, feel uncomfortable allowing it to slide with a simple “thank you,” but don’t really want to break into tears and shout that I don’t deserve this particular salutation.

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My family is changing, I don't know what to do about it, and that's okay

Through single motherhood, relocation from the continent back to Hawaii, custody battles, family drama, building a new relationship and creating our family, job changes, graduate school, and career readjustments, I've had very few moments in which I've questioned what or how I was doing as a parent. Parenthood has taught me not to expect the status quo — every day is different. Every day brings a new challenge or change, and every day you stretch a little bit more to be the parent you need to be.