I am an assistant principal in a middle school (grades 6-8). When I have to search a student's cell phone, I often get sick to my stomach at what I find. It gets worse and worse every year.
“I’m just a Mom” a friend told me in passing, as we were chatting about life and catching up. JUST a Mom. Why do we attach that word “just?” Why do we feel the need to defend our role or note that our position is without pay or merit in the business world?
“Baby, I need you to stop crying about everything,” I say to my 4-year-old son, followed by a heavy sigh. Another day, another sob fest about something that broke his little heart. He is my sensitive soul, my middle child, my gentle spirit.
This week, the popular kids cartoon, My Little Pony, introduces its first lesbian couple in what critics are calling a “bandwagon” attempt to normalize a popular, secular belief.
I am no stranger to the six-week postpartum permission slip to tell my husband he got the green light to have sex! Been there, done that, four times already—but this time was different...
"Being an older mom gives you a special perspective. You no longer worry about the little things, and you laugh easier. You can relax in your good credit score, financial stability, and stress-free life. Most of the time, anyway. Wink, wink."
"My sister sat on the couch with me as I painstakingly tried to pump through severe engorgement, and as she rubbed my shoulders, encouraging me to make it through just one more feeding session, I broke down in tears and told her I was so sorry. She looked at me shocked. Why, exactly, was I apologizing?"
