mother

Being a work-from-home-mom, I used to kind of loathe summer because it meant balancing activities and still trying to get all my stuff done, but this year is different. I’m allowing myself to take it slow (probably because I have no choice, being 32 weeks pregnant) and enjoy being a mama this summer.

I admitted to being an opioid addict in The Washington Post. I never thought I would tell my parents about my addiction, let alone the entire world, but after a year of working on my sobriety, I felt like it was the right thing to do.

I’m not going to lie or sugarcoat my feelings right now — I’m nervous about going from a mom of one to a mom of two. My son is seven, so he, my husband, and I have had seven years of time as “just the three of us.”

Moments after this big reveal, as I sat with the knowledge that I was the mother of a queer daughter, we heard about the man in Los Angeles being stopped on his way to Pride with guns and bombs, and I suddenly realized that my daughter was now one of the millions of people at risk because of vile and unreasonable hatred about non-straight sexuality.

Moments after this big reveal, as I sat with the knowledge that I was the mother of a queer daughter, we heard about the man in Los Angeles being stopped on his way to Pride with guns and bombs, and I suddenly realized that my daughter was now one of the millions of people at risk because of vile and unreasonable hatred about non-straight sexuality.

A surge of adrenaline hits me. I want to snap a selfie. A semi-nude selfie.

Although I hesitate to admit it, I have a hard time believing that men can be victims of domestic violence, and I know that my stepfather Joe is at the root of my problem.

My beliefs about people’s rights, including my own, are a significant factor in how I define myself, how I identify, and how I treat other people. And since I happen to be raising people, my approach to parenting must reflect those beliefs too.