David Minerva Clover

David Minerva Clover

Bio

David Minerva Clover is a queer and transgender writer, covering everything from parenting to why dinosaurs are awesome. His work has appeared in The Washington Post, New York Mag, The Establishment, and many other places. He lives in beautiful Detroit Michigan with his spouse, one child, and an embarrassment of animals. Check out his blog at Postnuclear Era or follow him on twitter at @dm_clover.

David Minerva Clover Articles

The reality is that I did not become poor because I ate a meal in a restaurant one too many times.

Yes, Poor People Eat Out Sometimes, Deal With It

I’m a poor person. I live below the U.S. poverty line. And yeah, I deserve to make my own financial decisions. The reality is that I did not become poor because I ate a meal in a restaurant one too many times, and while it’s true that eating out less can affect one’s budget, refusing to ever eat out again won’t make me not poor.

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Candles Or Candies? Celebrating Halloween As A Mom — And A Witch

I don’t want to deprive my child of these magical Halloween memories, I just also want to light candles and talk about our ancestors.

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It sucks for the parents, and it sucks for the kids. But fortunately, there are options to feed a toddler.

How To Feed A Toddler Without Totally Losing Your Grip

Here are six tips that can serve as a basic outline of how most parents can strategize to help feed a toddler and to calm the heck down.

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My epidural made me stop wanting to die. Image: Thinkstock.

Whether Or Not Someone Gets An Epidural Is None Of Your Business

We compare birth stories like war stories. Twelve hours of labor, 32 hours of labor, three hours of pushing, we fall into the trap of trying to one-up each other. So yes, I can see why, to a parent-to-be who is enthusiastically anticipating pain relief, the refusal of an epidural might seem like a bit of a hero complex. And maybe for some people it is! But it’s none of your goddamn business.

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When the next election comes around, he will be able to look at it and say “what is that?”

On Not Talking About The Election With My Toddler

This morning my son woke up laughing. My son woke up laughing and I woke up crying. My son woke up laughing and his little squeaky voice was a light in the darkness to me. I went into his room and moved towards his crib and he smiled at me. And I was so grateful, grateful for him and who he is, but also grateful that he is still a baby and I do not have to explain what happened last night.

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Couching no more.

5 Ways To Passive-Aggressively Force Your Millennial Child Into Financial Independence

Get creative! There's a wide range of passive-aggressive, and aggressive-aggressive, comments you can make as you hand over the dough. Whatever you choose, remember that your goal is make them wonder if having their electricity shut off is actually any worse than having this conversation with you.

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I’m fat in my wedding photos, and I also look damn good. Image: The Clovers.

The Summer I Got Fat: A Love Story

I had always considered myself to be extremely body positive. I loved my body! I had several close friends who were fat activists, and I was working hard to be a good thin ally. But despite all of that, I wasn’t ready for the changes that were happening in myself.

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I mess up and do things very differently than I want to sometimes. When that happens, I have one rule for myself: I stop and apologize to my kid.

Why I Apologize To My Kid Each And Every Time I Screw Up

I mess up and do things very differently than I want to sometimes. When that happens, I have one rule for myself: I stop and apologize to my kid.

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Photo By Dr. François S. Clemmons [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], from Wikimedia Commons

Things I Learned Binge-Watching Mister Rogers With A Toddler

I learned binge-watching Mister Rogers that he wasn’t just being comforting, he was rephrasing many of the things I was hearing in therapy.

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The baby is on the outside. Image: Thinkstock.

The Shower, PTSD, And My Traumatic Labor

[CN: PTSD, pregnancy, birth] Something snapped inside me and I was transported backwards in time.

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