As much as I love Christmas, without Santa I felt only glee and relief at the massive reduction in my December workload. By Michelle Deininger
Category Archive: Family
“Birth mom” does not make me feel like a baby machine without feelings, but it does clarify my role in her life. By Adrian Collins
What if birth certificates reflected reality? I imagined three spaces, one for our daughter’s biological mother and two for us. By Sarah Werthan Buttenwieser
If my mother is not here, who will show up to bring me flowers when I am vacuumed out,
cells gone, clean, neat, dark, unseeded? By Emily Franklin
They all took turns as babies, then toddlers, riding in the stroller’s deep reclining seat, casually enjoying Cheerios or clutching a favorite toy as I bounced behind. By Cara McDonough
The truth is I dreaded my Friday playgroup as much as I craved it. I stood apart from the other mothers in ways I couldn’t quite communicate or change. By Laura G. Owens
Did my son really need a backpack every time he left the house? By Sherri Sacconaghi
I’d raise my family differently, not because of the mistakes I made—though I certainly made my share—but because time means so much more to me now. By Melissa T. Shultz
They arrived. One after the other. In snowstorms. On holidays. From foreign countries. In succession—as inevitable it seemed as midterms and finals. By David Joseph
I’d been craving more one-on-one time with my kids for so long and now, thanks to those pesky parasites, I had it. By Kate Lemery
My eyes focus on my abdomen, the bulge pregnancy has left behind. My inner critic opens her mouth…but then I take in the whole picture. By Chrissie Dunham
We would take a million pictures of our child but none of us. Forget to schedule date nights because we never needed them before. By Elizabeth Newdom
Cell phones do not work here, and on a good day it takes only ten minutes to open email. By Mindy R. Roll
They are part of my life’s topography. Tiny specks on my map of choices, loves and losses, hurts and heartbreak. By Jordan Namerow
I wonder now why it came as such a shock to me that friends would get married, that wild nights out would become sleepless ones at home with a baby. By Claire Lynch
“No offense Mom,” my oldest said to me a few years ago. “But you could have been so much more.” By Laura Pochintesta
We had a ritual that I honored until she outgrew the need for it. It occurs to me now that I needed it just as much as she did. By Tracy Tambosso
My parents grew up in the shadow of the Holocaust. Neither one of them knew how to tell me what had happened, so instead they said nothing. By Elissa Jacobs
I worry with the other moms about whether we’re good at it. Raising another person. By Marni Berger
My daughter collapses after an endless tantrum and says, I wish I wasn’t adopted. By Tanya Friedman
I hesitated because I am a product of my society, just like everyone else. By Fiona Leary Boucher
I arrive at the office. I mime professional. Am I a professional? For months my identity was pure and unquestioned: mother of an infant. By Janelle Ward
We asked, you answered. In three words.
Kisses really mean love. When we kiss you goodnight, we told her, it leaves your cheek and travels straight into your heart. By Rosanne Ullman
As parents sometimes it’s a struggle to carve out even a few minutes to breathe. By Steph Auteri