Now that I’m an old-ass boring married lady, spending all my time vacuuming in heels, watching my stories and making martinis at 5 p.m. in anticipation of the imminent arrival of the most interesting man in my world, the only thing left for me to do in life is get pregnant.
But that is not the plan. Well, the making myself martinis at 5 p.m. is frequently part of the plan. Which would be a bad plan if, indeed, Patrick and I were trying to have kids. But this Sunday, and every forseeable third Sunday in May after that, I will celebrate my mom and my mother-in-law, and never be celebrated myself.
By my own design. Of my own volition. With the express agreement of my husband, who will similarly find himself celebrating his dad and father-in-law on future third Sundays in June, but never receive a hideous tie of honor himself.
I realize this isn’t normal for most people. But whether it’s normal or not, let me ask you to err on the side of not being a presumptuous snoot when talking to people who don’t have kids and who, moreover, don’t want to have kids. Keep reading »
When my youngest son was maybe 2 years old, he crept outside our bedroom door very early one morning while my husband and I were still asleep. I awoke to a deadpan, tiny voice whispering, “Let her in. Let. Her. In. Let her in,” over and over and over.
Turns out the cat was pawing at the back door, and he was just informing us it was time to, you know, let her in. But holy shitballs, that wasn’t even remotely my first thought. (My first thought was vampires, okay? IT WAS VAMPIRES.)
That was a legitimately spooky moment, but it doesn’t even hold a (flickering, ghostly) candle to this hair-raising Reddit thread titled, “Parents, what is the creepiest thing your young child has ever said to you?” Clocking in at over 11,000 comments, the forum is filled with an amazing array of stories ranging from hilariously weird to downright terrifying. Read more on The Stir…
Meet Gail Horalek, the busybody parent to top all busybody parents. She is very concerned that her daughter’s copy of The Diary Of A Young Girl is pornographic. It would seem that it’s not offensive enough that a vibrant young woman was a victim of the Holocaust. It’s also very offensive that Anne Frank played with her clitoris.
Horalek’s 7th grade daughter chose to read the newer, unedited “definitive edition” of Diary Of A Young Girl for a class project. This version was long blocked by Anne’s father (the only surviving member of the Frank family) because it contained more sexual themes; however, schools have been reading it for over a decade now. But Gail Horalek will not abide this smut! Keep reading »
If you have been in a one mile radius of me anytime in the past few weeks, you have probably heard me tell you all about how I love “Call The Midwife,” mention I’m going home to watch “Call The Midwife,” or suggest you watch “Call The Midwife.” That is because — yup — I am obsessed with the PBS drama “Call The Midwife.”
The premise is this: Jenny Lee (actress Jessica Raine) is a 22-year-old midwife in the 1950s hired for her first nursing job in an impoverished section of London’s East End. She’s had a privileged, sheltered upbringing and the poverty she sees in Poplar is like nothing she’s ever experienced. Nurse Jenny lives at Nonnatus House, a convent run by nuns who are also nurses, with three of her other 20something midwives: Nurse Trixie is the house glamour girl who loves boys, dancing and gossip; Nurse Cynthia is the thoughtful, quiet one, and Chummy is a gawky, awkward nurse from a titled family who is an embarrassment to her parents but finally finds a place in life working amongst the poor. Keep reading »
Well, of course, someone had to take some photos of me at a party, wearing my favorite dress (should I just stop wearing the clothes I love to events where there might photos taken?), bulky, lopsided, unfortunately proportioned, and my pregnant beauty bubble, so to awkwardly speak, was popped.
No matter how many times I tell myself patiently, firmly, “NO. Don’t pay attention, the photo is lying!” there’s that part of my mind that goes “But this is the truth! THE TERRIBLE TRUTH IN A RANDOM, IMPERSONAL UNIVERSE WITHOUT A GOD.” My new tactic is better, I think. I tell myself, “So what? So what if I’m ugly?” And that is always more helpful. But at that particular moment there had been much talk of beautiful women, much instant evaluation around me of women as either pretty or dismissible, and it seemed as though it did matter, at least enough. Because even if it’s out of sheer laziness or habit or nothing important or just in passing, people seem to talk about the way women look first, and constantly, and always. Keep reading »
This post contains spoilers!
Sunday nights are no longer full of Monday dread. I have something to look forward to at the very end of the weekend: a mind-bending episode of “Mad Men.” The show you love, full of characters you hate, and issues you hope to only deal with through barrier of your TV screen: infidelity, corporate hell, violence, and mortality.
For an office drama centered around a 1960s advertising agency, “Mad Men” has tackled very nuanced issues that remain relevant topics in our day and age. Anyone who watches the show knows the terrible way that women are treated: sexual harassment, rape, sexism, domestic violence, infidelity. And as of Sunday, all of the major female characters have experienced pregnancy. Keep reading »
Okay, so this story is a little old, but I’m posting because it’s still utterly charming: a little boy wanted the “Sofia The First” DVD, a random douchebag in line piped up to say the kid shouldn’t watch “girl movies,” the boy’s dad defended his son’s right to watch princess flicks, and then some lady in line offered to buy the kid “Sofia The First” because seeing a dad stick up for his kid’s girly interests made her day. Yay, there are good people in the world! [Her.ie]