This just in! Bay Area mother discovers that the behavior of her sons has everything and nothing to do with her. Stephanie Mackley—known for her essays on feminism, parenting, and dark-ish, somewhat funny forays into the meaning of life—has recently found her footing again, after a hell-raising summer and first few weeks back to school.… Read More Mom learns she has everything and nothing to do with her children's behavior
Typically, I wouldn’t smile after I told you this story. If I were being typical, I would finish it up with an exasperated guffaw that means, “Aren’t they insane? Don’t you just dream about being in a silent room alone, eating grapes?” But because of a particularly brilliant session with my new therapist counselor person… Read More Sidewalk candy or My son is not horrible at all
On New Years Day, I sat in the hard shell of a chair at the laundromat. I alternately felt fine and so broken that I wondered if any of the other launderers could tell. Did they see how my insides trembled as I struggled to get the washing machine handle to lock? Finally, the metal… Read More Motherhood, trauma, and a washing machine
This one goes out to every mother who has ever felt lost. Over it. Wired and exhausted. Overwhelmed and broken. It also goes out to every mother who has felt at the top of her game. Winning. Like her kid is the bees fucking knees. Perhaps, once or twice, you’ve felt trapped by motherhood. Or… Read More Motherhood is all of this
You know what’s crazy about living? That in a single 24 hour period you can go from feeling utterly broken and ashamed to being completely at ease and in your own skin, eating with your family on a golden evening. This time yesterday I could feel it coming. My frayed edges flaring out like the… Read More Yesterday, I lost it. Today was better.
Mid-conversation, a friend of mine recently confessed, “SUMMER. IS. KILLING. ME.” I had a sense of what she meant, but hadn’t quite gotten there yet. My week of starfishing had me all relaxed, full-tanked, ready to rumble. Well, it’s been two weeks. My tank is no longer full. Ready to rumble, I am not. SUMMER.… Read More We don't make summer like they used to
Alternate realities are helpful for the sake of comparison. I know, because I’m currently living one. My house feels twice as big, my brain half as full. I slept till nine effing thirty this morning and ate pizza and jellybeans for dinner last night. This is my life without children. For one week, both boys… Read More My week as a starfish or living at home without children