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Their Bad Mother

… about who this boy belonged to… … you can just reflect upon whether or not there is any resemblance between him and his mother: Yeah. Someday, he might have a mullet like that. If he’s lucky. (These photos demonstrate the point that’s being made over at the Bad Moms Club about boys and girls…

(Emilia does not like princess dresses, but she’s game to play dress-up when asked nicely, and if she can the dress off immediately after the picture is taken. Next week we’ll be playing an epic game of dress-up as we drive to DisneyWorld for the Princess Half-Marathon, aka the Tiarathon. We’ll see how that goes.)

I don’t expect everyone to agree about abortion. I find it difficult enough, as someone who is emphatically pro-choice but deeply ambivalent about her own experience, to come to any clear terms (beyond believing that women’s freedom of choice must remain a paramount concern) on the issue myself. So when I write about abortion, I’m…

I was in Houston this weekend, having an extraordinary time with a community of extraordinary women and generally feeling extraordinary, and I’m not sure that I have the words to capture the extraordinariness of it all, in part because I am exhausted (having come home to a very sick little boy who frightened me very…

(My babies are on a road trip with their dad while I flounce around at the Mom 2.0 Summit in Houston.) (Note the distinct LACK OF HAIR on the head of my son. Am still reeling from that.) (They are clearly having way too much fun without me.) (That’s good.)

In which I explain why – and, more importantly, how – I am running 100 Miles For Tanner: “Just put on your running shoes and run.” It’s that easy. Except for Tanner, it’s not, and never will be. Which is why I’m running for him. You could join me, if you like. I’d love it…

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, the first day of the 40 days and nights leading up to Easter (it’s actually 46, but we don’t count Sundays, just because). It’s meant to be a time of repentance and reflection, in the manner of Jesus’ time in the desert, and traditionally, observant Catholics…

I’ve lost another member of my family. My Uncle Jimmy was actually my great-uncle, although I would never have called him that, because of his youth. He was a late-in-life child of my great-grandmother’s – younger than both my mother and her brother, younger than everyone until the grandkids came along. So it was that…

I love traveling. I especially love traveling with my kids. There are, of course, a great many challenges associated with traveling with young children, but I think that it’s worth it: there is nothing in this world that is so amazing that it couldn’t be made more amazing by the interpretive lens of a child.…

This is what you do when everyone in your household is horribly, vomitously, lung-hackingly ill but someone still needs to go to the corner to get toilet paper and you figure that even though you can barely stand you might as well be the one to do it because you seem to be able to…
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