The fact that my kid is in his school uniform while his classmates are all dressed for the party makes me cringe. By Virginia Fundora
relationships
The day our third child came along, I often found myself fantasizing about cutting the cords of his computer. By Tania Lorena Rivera
I have spent years juggling my three jobs: teacher, mother, and alcoholic. By Jennifer Dines
I have a full-time job and yet I still feel like I’m waiting for my ex-husband to see me as an equal human. By Katherine Sargent
The particular bonding of a blended family didn’t come easily to me. By Tess Clarkson
My Lego games with Brian defined our relationship. Until, one fateful day, he left for college. By Matt Hollingsworth
The saying that a mother is only as happy as her unhappiest child is true. By Beth Thompson
Not all recipes need to be cooked, but they all deserve to be read. By Tahnee Freda
I wasn’t used to saying “no” to Mom—and didn’t know where to begin. By Elizabeth Newdom
I’m afraid of losing my daughter. I’m afraid of being replaced. By Jeannette Sanderson
The sun was shredding us, both me and the stupid snow cone. By Mary Adkins
The hard truth is that I can’t protect my child from everything. By Megan Hanlon
There’s a name for these knitting mistakes: “grandma kisses.” By Carol Ewig
I was in no hurry to let go of my grief. It was what I had left of my daughter. By Mary Janevic
Motherwell talks to Melinda Wenner Moyer about how to raise kind, tolerant, empathetic children.
Would I embrace the care of my own pet with more gusto? Tolerate its mess, its foibles—the way I do my own kids? By Lauren Apfel
My mother set about blending our identities from the day I was born. By Nancy Camden
When I forgot my homework or my pants ripped at recess I dialed on auto-pilot. By Jonathan Meyer
Sometimes my siblings complain about the stresses of parenting and I want to say, then why did you have three? By Grace Orbison
I bought the ‘having it all’ narrative like so many other women of my generation. But I didn’t read the fine print. By Virginia Fundora
When Steve died, I found it hard to imagine ever finding love again. By Sarah Kilch Gaffney
It occurred to me that I would have to live with this lifeless body—my baby—inside me for the next four days. By Sarah Gundle
I stumbled over the “they.” It felt clunky in my mouth. By Melissa Brand
In death as in life, she would be surrounded by nature’s bounty. By Megan Hanlon
I know our relationship—which has always been very close and strong—will never be the same again. By Carol Ewig