Parenting, relationships, work-life balance. Your pandemic self-growth in 100 words or less.
Family
It’s been a long, slow road to finding a balance between supporting others and supporting myself. By Yvonne Spence
As much as I juggled and schlepped and complained, the day eventually came when I realized my arms were empty. By Laurie Sunderland
In our household, my children are allowed to eat with a good book or their tablet. I don’t expect them to talk. By Tania Lorena Rivera
Have you ever watched a five-year-old pour a package of cooked green beans into a bowl? I have. And let me tell you, it nearly did me in. By Debra Arbit
I’ve been sitting with the reality that this world will never see my son’s heart before they see his color. By Kai McGee
We envisioned our daughter’s freedom: she could tell us dance class was ending early. But we had not considered her new awareness of danger. By Sarah Werthan Buttenwieser
Obviously, a pandemic is an awful reason to decide to have another child. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking about it. By Amanda Gibson
How, my girls wonder, can they live a big life if they can’t get out of the gate? I feel for them. By Francie Arenson Dickman
Each project was meant to show a child’s mom that she is appreciated. Respected. Loved. By Wendy Kennar
We have plenty of coffee in our cupboard. What’s not in bloom has buds, promises, waiting. By Kara Gebhart Uhl
It has to be a single leaf, floating through the sky by itself. Do you have a mom sign? By Kandace Chapple
Every night this family of five sits down together to watch a movie. Rotating who picks, no opting out. By Daisy Alpert Florin
This job is hard—physically, mentally, emotionally—it’s so damn hard. By Maureen Boesen
Every fertility journey is different. You never really know what somebody else is going through. By Amy Klein
Let your children see you trying. Let them see you cry. By Kaci Curtis
He said, “I never knew you started dinner at 4pm every weekday.” By Teresa B. Duffy
My kids are used to my loud, Jewish-mom complaining—but not this unkindness. Not this anxiety-fueled rage. By Hannah Grieco
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When Finn took his first steps and my husband was on another continent, I couldn’t help but wonder, “How could you miss this?” By Kaci Curtis
On Friday nights, I would rush through my daughter’s bedtime books, slurring words and skipping full pages. By Shelley Mann Hite
I ignored her recipe for many years as a way to avoid the loss. By Marcia Kester Doyle
I’m surprised by how many moms give me the thumbs-up for “letting” my daughter be a pirate. By Mimi Lemay
After bursting into tears, you text your brother-in-law: “Sorry, this is awkward, but make sure she doesn’t use a tampon for the bleeding.” By Lorren Lemmons
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