I waited as long as possible to announce my pregnancy. I told my oldest friends first. And the first reactions were: “Congratulations?” “Oh. Wow.” “I thought you didn’t want kids!”
I love cheesy Christmas songs, I love fairy lights. On the other hand, I feel hypocritical at the school Nativity play.
It’s OK to absolutely freaking love being a Mom. You can do that, and embrace it, and that experience can define you as much as other experiences in your life. It’s not mutually exclusive to being your own woman and your own individual.
Daddy and Lyra are cuddling on the couch together, so I’m taking the time while I have it to tell of my birth adventure. My original plan was to have a natural birth, at Kaiser, with midwives and a doula. I boned up hard for this test, took classes, read books, did birth affirmations daily, […]
My parents tried to raise me in relatively gender neutral clothing, and I fought it every step of the way. Mom would dress me in brown second-hand cords and yellow tshirts, only to be foiled by my paternal grandmother sending me Little House easter dresses from Sears, which I vastly preferred.