Even though she warned me, I didn’t listen to my editor and I read the comments on the essay published through the NYT Motherlode. All 210 (and counting) of them.
Anyone who blogs, or even has ever read a blog, knows comments can get ugly. It doesn’t matter how simple the subject or how much humor you inject into the piece, people hear and read what they want, not necessarily what you said. Readers often attach to the line or thought that speaks to them and address only that. I guess that is human nature.
This week I learned even the NYT comments get ugly. Many of them were also very smart and true. I had no choice but to dissect a topic I thought Ian and I had analyzed to death. What I hadn’t looked at more closely was the context in which this fight came up. These are not excuses and they don’t negate any of the real issues set forth in the Motherlode piece, however they provide insight into why this divisive topic elicited particularly high stakes. Continue reading
It is a question both Ian and I are asked on a regular basis. Today, I’m answering it in a piece for The New York Times Motherlode. Because I’m efficient like that. Continue reading
In an effort to avoid writing the last 25,000 words of my first novel’s first draft, I was on Twitter, because Twitter is my favorite procrastination tool. Though I have a love-hate relationship with that little blue bird/chip on my shoulder, I discover something almost every time I’m on it. It’s how I found my internship at Mommyish. It’s how I came to contribute to Huffington Post Live. It’s how I learn things about myself. Continue reading
Remember how happy I was that my son was SO not a spoiled little brat around Christmas time? Two months later, he apparently outgrew that wide-eyed wonder as evidenced by an event I’ll call “birthday party-gate 2013.” He opened all of his gifts in 7.2 seconds, he rudely discarded the ones he wasn’t excited about, and that night before bed he said he didn’t have any fun and wanted more presents.
What have I done? I cried.
And more important, what can I do about it? Continue reading
Yesterday I read a smart and compelling story about a woman struggling to end her nursing relationship with her 5-year-old daughter. Although I weaned my daughter long before her second birthday, I related to the emotions and conflict Lisa described in every sentence. When I was done my immediate reaction was, “that totally would have been me.”
My daughter took to breastfeeding like a champ. We had an amazing nursing relationship for every single day that it lasted. But at some point after a year it started to feel a little out of control. Maybe because she was still waking multiple times a night to feed or maybe because I was working full-time and it felt like all we were doing in our time together was nursing. I wanted to watch her wobbly steps as an early walker. I wanted to see her scream with delight at her brother’s antics. I cherished that bond in my soul, but my gut told me it was time for her to move on. Even when she showed absolutely no interest. Even when it hurt my feelings to let her go. I had to cut her off.
Read my whole piece about the confusion of weaning and why I decided for her here:
I Had To Cut My Daughter Off Breastfeeding But It Didn’t Come Easily — For Either Of Us