As my car wound along Lexington Street through the neat rows of tidy duplexes in Coddington Cove military housing community near Naval Station Newport, Rhode Island, I breathed a long sigh of relief…
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None Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
During the early days of 2020, my husband and I received an odd email from our middle-child, Anna, who was, at the time, in her last semester of college. Just like her mother, Anna had earned the title “Class Clown” in high school, so we knew from the first line that her email had been written tongue-in-cheek.
It went a little something like this:
What’s the Value Proposition of Motherhood?
After eight hours of labor, a sort of delirium set in. My conscious brain was no longer in control. I fell into a sleep-like stupor between contractions, as if my body insisted on resting up for what was ahead…
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Picking Battles with the Mutilation Generation
Our 26-year-old son hasn’t trimmed his beard in three years and wears a brown Walmart sweatshirt every day. Our 23-year-old daughter had her café au lait hair dyed orangey copper. Our 20-year-old daughter wears long, wildly-painted fingernails and a fake nose ring…