I write this on the birthday of Bob Newhart, who said, “Laughter gives us distance. It allows us to step back from an event, deal with it and then move on.” For weeks, I have been trying to answer for myself and for this essay the question of why we blog, in particular, why mothers blog while raising their children and what effect the blog has on those children.
I’m sure I asked this question at some point, especially considering there have been several opportunities to ponder this in the six years since Story’s birth. I don’t remember there being any conflict in my mind, so it isn’t surprising that I didn’t give it a second thought as Story and I prepared to attend a visitation for the son of friends this past week. After arriving, we signed the guestbook (Story signed her own name) and stood in the long line of people paying their respects. (more…)
Monday began like any other day. I woke up early, took care of the dog, worked, cleaned just enough to make myself feel like I did something, and drank about a gallon of coffee. I went upstairs, finished getting myself ready, picked out clothes for the girls, and then wrangled them into those clothes. We brushed teeth and hair, sang a bit, had a couple minor meltdowns, and eventually made our way downstairs when everyone seemed calm and was smelling decent. On the lower level, they each demanded the normal morning niceties: a new milk sippy, their gummy vitamins, their blankies. Then one by one, we entered the car and drove to school. (more…)
Being a mother of multiples has thrust me into a unique situation. I had my own preconceived notions about what having multiples would be like, but I couldn’t even imagine the comments and questions I would receive from other people about my multiples. You see, my girls don’t look anything alike, nor do they act anything alike. At. All. One twin is very much into princesses, makeup, and ballet. The other twin loves the Avengers and can’t wait to take her first karate class next year. It blows people’s minds that they are not the same person or have the same interests. I, on the other hand, couldn’t be more thrilled to not have carbon copies of the same person. (more…)
Looking at me, badass isn’t a word that would immediately come to mind. Even knowing me, you still likely wouldn’t use that adjective. I’m a plain-jane mom who lives in a subdivison at the end of a cul-de-sac. I have no visible tattoos, my hair is a mousy brown, and I have very few edges; I’m pretty soft, actually. Even so, I’m a badass. And I wear my badges with pride. (more…)