There was no romance in our decision to marry. There was no proposal. There was no engagement ring–just a positive pregnancy test.
Abortion was controversial. Abortion was murder. Abortion was a choice.
It was clear to me what side of the debate I had to be on. My mom made her own choice.
She kept me.
On this Mother’s Day, I want to take some time out to thank myself on behalf of my sons for all the shit I go through for them.
I love Son #1. He is a prick…sometimes… a lot.
Ultimately, these kids did not need suspension. ‘
They need a fucking ethnic studies course.
I have no problem celebrating Christmas. I love Christmas. I love the lights. I love getting together with family and eating a shitload of calories. I love Stevie Wonder’s Someday at Christmas holiday album. Before I had kids to drag around everywhere, I used to love the fake fir scent permeating every overly heated department store I entered. I’ll even hit up a midnight mass if any one of my family really wanted to go.
I do have one problem: Santa.
Prayer does not stop terrorism.
Halloween forces me to confront two things about me: I hate mass consumer marketing towards young children and I hate being confronted with the expectation to perform as a Halloween-loving mother to my children.
When I was child-free, I harbored this nebulous concept that I would someday have kids. I was also much more preoccupied with trying not to get pregnant for most of my adult life thus far, so a progression to trying to become pregnant seemed…unnatural.
We prepare mass shootings the way we prepare for natural disasters. We know the next one is coming. It’s just a matter of when.