Odd parent out: how it feels when your kid isn’t anything like you at all
Isn’t it interesting how we struggle with our own identities through our children? We want them to be like us. By that, I mean, our vision of who we are — you know, all the good stuff. I know that as my own daughter has grown and developed her unique sense of self, her individuality, her very strong-willed personality, I have always looked for those moments of me in her.
I’m living the freelancing work-from-home parent dream… sort of
Apparently Lady Gaga, Oprah Winfrey, and Deepak Chopra were all in Harvard Square on February 29th for the launch of Lady Gaga’s Born This Way foundation. I was in Harvard Square, too, but I didn’t catch a glimpse of them. I was there just for the fifteen minutes it took me to FedEx a book back to a client. Then I got home and discovered that a chunk of the proofread I had just mailed was still sitting on my desk. My desk isn’t even very crowded (for me, anyway), but I had cleverly separated out the last section of the book to cross-check against the earlier sections, and that turned out to be a bad plan because no one wants their proofread back with the last 20 pages missing. I couldn’t believe it. I had never done anything like this before. How could it have happened?
Losing my maternal drive: maybe I really don’t want children
I have no idea what happened. One minute, I was boiling with the need to have a baby, staring melty-eyed at little ones in the street. The next, I was cold and empty. The desire had extinguished itself, leaving hollow indifference in its place. I riddled over what force possessed the power to do this. Perhaps it was a particularly difficult babysitting session with a screamy, parent-missing girl. Or maybe a heartfelt conversation about parenting with my partner.
Banishing guilt to be better: let’s chill out and trust ourselves
You may have seen the Wall Street Journal article that’s now circulating called Why French Parents Are Superior. If you haven’t, I’m sure it will pop up on your Facebook feed sooner or later. In it, Pamela Druckerman, an American ex-pat living in France, talks about how French children seem better behaved than American children and French parents seemed much more relaxed.
How I support my family as a sex worker
For all intents and purposes I have the perfect suburban mommy resume. With one enormous exception. I keep a huge secret from my family, neighbors, and friends. After a long day of story time at the library, playing with moon sand, and finger painting… I go to work. I don’t have a typical mom job. Not by a long shot. I’m an escort.
Bring on the awkward: how I’m defining my parenthood
There was a wonderfully beautiful post on Offbeat Mama the other day — one that resonated with me on several levels — as an adoptee, as a parent, and as a person who loves to ponder the intricacies of identity, of transitions, and of family.
No, it’s not for the kids: what I want is important, too
Sitting in the corner where I intended to nurse my second baby, I looked around myself and thought, “The kids sure would love a fish tank here.” My older son could watch the fish when I couldn’t play with him while nursing. The baby would love the calming gurgle of running water. As an added bonus, I could enjoy the inhabitants during those hours stuck underneath a baby.
Gender, adoption, and identity: how being transgender will help me be a better dad
When I began testosterone replacement, I was giddy and excited. Surgery made me anxious, but I was relieved when it was over. And now: nothing. The elation I expected never came. I had rejected the most basic gift from my mother and father — I had declared myself someone other than the daughter they had welcomed two decades earlier.