Parenting

I lit-up, inhaled, and slowly released the sweet smoke. It was beautiful and relaxing until I was interrupted with these, dreaded, words: “MOM?! Are you smoking?”

These are precious years; years that pass too quickly as your little ones speed towards adulthood and the ever increasing awareness that their parents are fallible. What I never wanted, nor expected, was for these years to be punctuated by my second spell of severe depression.

After the positive test and the cautious excitement of we're having a baby! came what felt like a literal gut punch — intense, chronic, debilitating morning sickness. I'd wake up and be okay until it was time to get out of bed and try to make it to work. As soon as I was vertical, the nausea would kick in and I'd run to the bathroom.

I’ve got two tales of hideous male behavior — at the elementary school, somewhere typically full of good vibes and happiness and all that.

They don’t care about you. As long as you are meeting their ransom demands, the rest of your life is irrelevant.

I'll freely admit it: I'm a bit of an iPhone addict. My phone is always on me or within arm's reach, like a security blanket. I keep my sounds and alerts off but I check it all the time and notifications for email, Facebook, Ebay, even my freaking meditation program come popping up all day.

“I don’t even know what to say, Joni. Your baby isn’t alive.”

Is it just me, or is our society’s youth today really struggling with respect? I’ve worked with kids for years and I’ve got three children of my own. Things that didn’t fly when I was a kid (and that wasn’t so long ago!) are either ignored or let go. An example: I’d never even dream of calling my teachers or parents by their first name.