When I was eighteen, my dad invented something called "slack leashing." Slack leashing is a sport involving one human, one dog, and a leash. You clip the leash on the dog like you're going to go for a walk, but instead of the human setting the pace, you have to allow the dog to set … Continue reading On Being Raised by Two Developmental Psychologists
[Written about two weeks after L was born. Warning: this post is kinda graphic. Like mucus-plug graphic. Read at your own discretion] I’m sitting here with a snoring baby on my chest. He is warm and soft and heavy—the sort of soft, warm, heavy that is meant to be snuggled close. It’s one of the … Continue reading On Giving Birth
Being a parent is not what I expected. The word parent is so boring. So blasé. Commonplace, even. Before becoming one, I pictured ill fitting jeans, responsibility, and the exhaustion of serving up mundanity to my children day after live-long day. As far as words go, parent was the opposite of romance in my brain. It was … Continue reading On the Sweeping Emotions of Parenthood
When I was growing up, I loved to ask my parents questions about their lives. I was curious about everything: how they'd met. What adventures they'd gone on before we were born. If they knew they'd get married the first time they laid eyes on each other. Mostly, I was fascinated by their stories. But … Continue reading On the best day of my life
Right now I’m sitting at our kitchen table, and a baby is sitting on my lap, strapped to my chest by a carrier. He’s warm and soft and solid all at once, and his wispy hair tickles my chin--distracting me--as I type. We’ve been parents for over a month now, and I’m still trying to … Continue reading On Parenthood
The older I get, the more common the pregnancy and birth announcements become on my Facebook: pictures of newborns swaddled in blankets, tiny baby shoes posed next to bigger adult shoes in the same style. Clever puns with spaghetti sauce (Prego, oh boy). But there are a few friends and acquaintances who have made baby … Continue reading On Not Wanting Kids
From the time I was sixteen, I pictured having a daughter. Somehow it had never occurred to me that I might have a boy--it just didn’t seem like an option. Boys were for people who had brothers growing up. I have a sister. When I used to ask my mom whether she’d wanted girls or … Continue reading On Having a Boy
