parenting

Center Of A Storm

Commercial door swings open, we meet Torrent of rain, pouring in gray sheets Chorus of currents ripple the streets, Wind kapows concrete in...

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when joy is trapped in forced levity: a beat poem

so there they are now, floating vexation on curled ribbon, meant to brighten on any occasion only to darken every mother’s despotism....

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Breathe

Breathe. The simple act of pulling the world in and swallowing. When I was a kid, I used to hold my breath underwater for 74 seconds. I...

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In This Moment

He brings me watermelon cubes in bed, in a kind act of sharing a favorite treat of his with me. I see him so clearly then for what he is:...

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Tiny Circles

I pluck her This tiny girl who looks like me I pluck her from the giant fortress of a tree house She squeals and squirms for freedom This...

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Kaleidoscope Vision

look at me as if through the lens of a broken Kaleidoscope and you will see a new kind of woman living outside your limited notion of a...

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Day 356: A Love Letter to My 30’s

You were the decade that made me a wife. Again. A better wife this time. This time I knew better than to throw the dishes against the wall....

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“I Love You, Daddy”

I admit it; it’s true. I’m far too sensitive for a grown man. At any given moment, I could easily find myself whimpering, sniffling or...

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Creating a Feminist Future

My daughter started Kindergarten this year, and in the fourth week of school, a little boy kicked her in the face while she was playing on...

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Conscious Posting: The Difference Between Bragging and Gratitude

Facebook can be fun. Social media in all forms – can be entertaining. Instagram is cool because I like photos. I like to see the...

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Oneiric projectiles: Dreaming My Female Ancestors Forward

My mother comes to pick me up from kindergarten and is pulled aside by the teacher. “Your daughter doesn’t color between the lines.”...

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Day 302: Bye, Felicia.

I have written a million poems about my body. How she couldn’t stay in her lane, fit in her assigned container, listen to directions. How...

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Pies On The Sidewalk: A Gift Of Confidence From A Mother to Her Daughters

My mom never knew she had actually prepared me the best way possible. She died thinking she had failed as a parent who should have...

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Rebecca

The landing at the top of the stairs sounded the loudest lament. Her fingers traced the expansion and contraction lines on the white-washed...

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Being A Father

I’m fortunate enough to call myself Father to two kids. I’m sure at times, they’ve had other words to call me, and probably well...

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In My Other Life

Have your ever asked yourself: who would I be, if I were a different kind of me? In my other life … I was not born to a sociopath. I...

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Division without Separation

My mom claims that when we were young, she would occasionally go into her bedroom with a book, lock the door behind her and leave my dad in...

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I Am Jodi Arias’s Mother

This interview is the first time Sandy Arias has spoken publicly about her daughter Jodi Arias. Sandra Dee Allen was born in 1958 in a...

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Hey, Mom Next Door – I See You

I admit I didn’t really like you when we first met. We had only been in the house a month when you came over with your 12-year-old son,...

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Good Enough Mother

Advice to back off Advice to do more Be a good enough mother Not too good Don’t overdo it Don’t make him dependent on you He will never...

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Love in the Time of Dementia

My mom desires a closeness with me now that she never did when I was young. I’d long suspected my mother didn’t embrace parenting in...

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I Am Your Mother

I’m your mother, but no I’m not listening. You’re talking in the backseat of the car. I hear you, barely. I’m your...

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The Weight of Being a Woman

As I sit here six months pregnant, I ponder about my life and what my existence has become. So many women have told me how beautiful the...

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A Letter To My Recently Separated Friend

We spoke this morning. You wept tears of confusion, hurt, and fear. I want you to know: I AM HERE. I may not have the answers, but I will...

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Here Inside the Mirror

There comes an age when screwing up is not cute anymore. You know that, because people are constantly telling you. It’s not cute anymore,...

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Bag of Blue

There is a blue plastic WalMart bag caught in a branch of the maple tree in my daughter’s front yard. It has been there since April, four...

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