Smoke & Mirrors

Sometimes around late afternoon, usually after a surprisingly uneventful family outing, I’ll look at my babies playing together kindly. I’ll observe as they gesture comically to one another and discuss really “important” things amongst themselves; their murmured chatter and secretive giggling a soft hum creating a personal soundtrack to my day’s end.

Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, Hurt My Kid and I'm Coming After You

Last week I picked out the perfect outfit. I twisted (then re-twisted) my hair and worked to create a make-up look that was 2 parts “I’m a fun girl” and 1 part “I know how to handle business.” I practiced introducing myself and scanned the first page of the newspaper for topical humor (since most of my puns typically revolve around poop or Sesame Street). I wasn’t headed out for a blind date though. I was going to meet my kid’s teacher.

Around these parts, that’s a big damn deal. It’s so important for me to set the right tone. Here’s this other adult charged with nurturing and caring for my child for the next 9 months, it’s serious business and I don't  take it lightly. I looked forward to our initial interaction but my nerves were still wracked. It's hard to figure out a way  to convey the perfect mix of “Hey we’re in this together,” and “If you fuck her up…I fuck YOU up.” A fine line, ya know.

Summer Blues

I’m anxious about how this will come across. I’ve long known that admitting I have this disorder might somewhat ostracize me from my peers and it pains me to know that my children might be affected in any way by the information that follows.

But as the seasons have changed and yet another school year has ended, I’m finding it harder and harder to go about my daily routines. The struggles I endure exacerbate my symptoms and as a stay at home mom of 3, my babies are often burdened by my sickness.