Look if you ask a child ‘Would you rather have a fulfilled mother or a stay-at-home Sylvia Plath’ they’ll pick Sylvia Plath every time. But I think it’s really important that children don’t feel their parents’ emotional lives depend on their success.
Is Valentine’s Day a day to make cupcakes with your children? No Valentine’s is supposed to be a day about romantic love.
So many women today have become so focused on their children they’ve developed these romantic entanglements with their children’s lives and the husbands are secondary. They’re left out. And the romantic focus is on the children.
I always tell my kids that as soon as you have a secret something about you that you are ashamed to have others find out you have given other people the power to hurt you by exposing you.
I have two daughters and I have done everything in my power to prevent them from assimilating even being aware of my idiocy about my weight.
I pity the young woman who will attempt to insinuate herself between my mama’s boy and me. I sympathize with the monumental nature of her task. It will take a crowbar two bulldozers and half a dozen Molotov cocktails to pry my Oedipus and me loose from one another.
There are times as a parent when you realize that your job is not to be the parent you always imagined you’d be the parent you always wished you had. Your job is to be the parent your child needs given the particulars of his or her own life and nature.
Well you know I was raised by a 1970s feminist. My mom had a consciousness-raising group. I used to sit at the top of the stairs and listen to them.
I’m sure there are people who survive tragedy without humor but I’ve never met any of them. Nor would I be particularly interested in writing about them if I did meet them.
I was a lesbian for a semester at Wesleyan – it was a graduation requirement.
I feed my kids organic food and milk but I’ve also been known to buy the odd Lunchable. My kids are not allowed to watch TV during the week but on weekends even the 2-year-old veges out to ‘The Simpsons.’
One of the darkest deepest shames so many of us mothers feel nowadays is our fear that we are Bad Mothers that we are failing our children and falling far short of our own ideals.
The thing about youthful offenders is that no one seems to care about them. Most people don’t like adolescents – even the good ones can be snarky and unpleasant. Combine the antipathy we feel toward the average teenager with the fear inspired by youth violence and you have a population that no one wants to deal with.
Another parent’s different approach raises the possibility that you’ve made a mistake with your child. We simply can’t tolerate that because we fear that any mistake no matter how minor could have devastating consequences. So we proclaim the superiority of our own choices. We’ve lost sight of the fact that people have preferences.
Personally I think four is the perfect number of children for our particular family. Four is enough to create the frenzied cacophony that my husband and I find so joyful.
As a novelist I mined my history my family and my memory but in a very specific way. Writing fiction I never made use of experiences immediately as they happened. I needed to let things fester in my memory mature and transmogrify into something meaningful.
During the periods in my marriage when I chose to stay home with my kids rather than work as an attorney it caused me no end of anxiety. Despite the fact that I knew I was contributing to our family by caring for our children I still felt that my worth was less because I wasn’t earning.