Category: sasha-newborn-chronicles

For two years, I have taken care of Sam almost every day. When she turned one, we got two days of child-care, but even then, there were three days a week that she was mine, all mine. This week we started her pre-school. It is three times a week. And...

Until recently (really until Alan was born), I was convinced that I only wanted girls, that girls were the superior sex and that I would build an all-female army of feisty, intelligent, super hot women out of my daughters who would one day rule the world Lysistrata-style.

Last week a friend told me that she was fired from a daycare after only one day. Apparently her son had “too much separation anxiety.”

We are best friends. We are sparring partners. Nobody gets me like he does. He has given me infinite freedom to explore myself and never held me back from anything, always supporting me, always listening. My parents always told me that the worst times in their 25-year marriage came after...

The other day a friend and I were talking about someone we know and how her very thin mother always pressures her to lose weight. I was being my usual judgmental self and was denouncing that mother with fervor, until it occurred to me that I kind of got it.

One of the hardest parts of having children is accepting that they will grow. Each stage is so beautiful and yet so fleeting. I swear, I have a different child week to week.

I recently saw the movie “Marley and Me.” In it, a writer loves his insane, scraggly, difficult dog for more than a decade in spite of all his faults. To most, the movie is sad. To me? It is devastating.

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