The pregnant body is complicated, a duality. It has potential for life, while still a life of its own. It is both…

Chalk control up to another one of those sacrifices that martyrs, I mean mothers, are just expected to make. 

Once, years ago at a Steve Miller concert with my childhood friend, a man asked where we were from. We explained and he lauded, “Wow, and look at you now, you’ve made it.” “Sure,” we replied, “but that town made us.”

When parents don’t participate in the shaping of their children, society gets full reign. And society is currently shit at parenting boys. 

And just like the last time, I find myself silently, or not so silently, screaming. What about the men? It’s the fucking men.”

There is no such thing as an “overeducated woman,” we are, and should continue to be, as educated as we want or need to be.

We feel like we’re failing.But maybe we’re not failing. Maybe we’re just struggling.

Becoming a mother has been one of the most incredible, and probably one of the best choices I’ve ever made, not the least because it was a choice - my choice.

“Roses are red, violets are black, why is your chest as flat as your back?” Botany ignorance aside, this schoolyard chant taunted me through 8th grade.