My children are 15 months apart, I work full time, and I commute more than two hours a day. I love my husband, my kids, and my job, but not all at the same time.
Posts by Carly
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Would you eat your lunch on the toilet? Better yet, would you prepare your child’s lunch in a public bathroom stall? And yet, that is essentially what we ask of nursing mothers who need to pump outside of the home.
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I would love to read that natural doesn’t mean perfect and formula doesn’t equal failure.
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Like many support groups, we bonded by learning to cope with a common enemy—breastfeeding.
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A retired teacher who never misses an opportunity to turn the mundane into a teaching moment, my dad is the reason I write.
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Already, I can tell that she is the brains of their dynamic duo and he is the muscle.
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Suddenly and surprisingly, she was not my mother anymore but rather an ally in this bizarre rite of passage to bring another human being into the world.
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Soon enough, self-consciousness will replace innocence. The music will turn lame.
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Seriously? I was pretty sure my kid was smart enough to know the difference between warm, soft nipple attached to me and streaming delicious milk versus cold, plastic, silicone attached to no one and dry as a bone.
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At first, I thought maybe my eyes were welling up simply because I am blessed to have such a beautiful, healthy little girl and I felt overwhelmed by the magnitude of such a blessing. But that is only part of it.
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