her bad crazies

I’ll be the first to admit that the name ‘Charlie Sheen’ doesn’t immediately spring to mind when one considers questions concerning parenting. It can, in fact, be argued that the words ‘parenting’ and ‘Charlie Sheen’ should just never be used together in a sentence, if that sentence is not ‘Charlie Sheen has nothing to tell us about parenting,’ or ‘if you want an example of bad parenting, look to Charlie Sheen.’

And yet, and yet… it’s too easy, I think, to just dismiss questions like ‘what questions does the example of Charlie Sheen raise for us as parents?’ with glib replies about ‘what NOT to do’ and jokes about Tiger Mom blood. Keep reading…

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Sweating The Small Stuff

February 25, 2010

Yesterday, Emilia brought home her very first report card. Emilia is four. Just yesterday she was in diapers and nursing and the only thing that anyone ever reported about her was quantity and quality of her bowel movements. How did we get to report cards? For the longest time, I couldn’t open it. I’m not [...]

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Sometimes, We Need Touch

February 22, 2010

I just spent a wonderful weekend in Houston, cavorting and plotting and reflecting and deep-thinking and giggling with some of the brightest and most brilliant and beautiful and bad-assed women on the interwebs. I left uplifted and inspired and more than a little in love with my community. Then Air Canada messed up my flight [...]

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I Measure Every Grief I Meet

February 12, 2010

Alexander McQueen died this week. He committed suicide, and he did so, in part, it seems, because of his bereavement over the death of his mother earlier this month. This is going to sound awful, terrible, extreme, insane… but… I think that I know – maybe, a little bit – how he felt.

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Guilt, Trip

February 3, 2010

I’d thought that I’d had my fill of beating myself up yesterday, what with blaming myself for Jasper’s pneumonia and all, but really, there’s no such thing as too much self-flagellation when you’re a mother, is there? After a brief flirtation with self-forgiveness that lasted, roughly, the duration of the season premiere of Lost, I’ve [...]

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About Last Night

February 2, 2010

Jasper goes to playschool a couple of days a week. He loves it – loves it – and he knows exactly what days he’s scheduled to go. He toddles down the stairs on those mornings and heads straight for his coat and boots, which he tries to tug on over his pajamas. SKOO! (School!) he [...]

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What A Girl Wants

January 27, 2010

My husband had a vasectomy last year. There was a lot of discussion around it – another baby would not have been unwelcome, and so I wasn’t eager to close off the possibility – but we both knew that it would be madness for me to risk repeating the more or less pretty awfully terrible [...]

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We, Who Need Such Great Mysteries

January 8, 2010

I think that I’m stuck in the denial stage of grief. It’s not that I deny the fact that my father is dead – his ashes sit in a box on my mantle, surrounded, at the moment, by a few Christmas ornaments and my kids’ picture with Santa and Emilia’s bardo-drawing – it’s that I [...]

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Praise The Sleep Gods And Pass The Cookies

December 3, 2009

OH SWEET LORD HE SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT. (please gods don’t smite me for celebrating this. please please please and thank you.)

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Boot Skootin’ Snot Boogerin’ Nobody’s Sleepin’ Boogie

November 19, 2009

This is what 6am looks like at our house: saggy diapers and ukeleles and big, snot-smeared hugs. It’s also what 8pm, 11pm, and 3am look like. Yes, he sleeps in those cowboy boots. No, not for any longer than two or three hours at a time.

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