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Birth Wars

In today’s birthing world, no decision about pregnancy and newborns seems easy.  Epidural or not?  Midwife or doctor?  Breastfeeding and pumping, or supplemental formula?  Every decision is wrought with political, maternal and cultural subtext.  Breastfeed and you’re a good mom, but breastfeed too long and you’re a militant.  Give birth with an epidural and you’re […]

Mother’s Day – an essay on ambivalence

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I’ve always been ambivalent about Mother’s Day, but I’ve never been able to put my finger on why that is. Then I read this essay by Anne Lamott and I think I figured it out. As a daughter, the forced yearly thanking of my mom caused me stress from early on. Was my third-grade ribbon-covered, […]

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There is always after

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I don’t deal with bad news well.  No one does, I guess, but I am particularly inept.  I come from a long generation of people who know that things are just not going to end well.  I have dragged myself out that pit laboriously, growing muscles of resilience, positive thinking and, “everything happens for a […]

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A Dear John to the Port Authority

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For everyone who has commuted via mass transit into New York City.  Or anywhere else, for that matter. Port Authority, I don’t like how you’re treating me. Let’s start with the way you talk to me. When I hear your infernal chimes, I know you’re about to unload something insincere on me . I know […]

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A Hurricane of Anger

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It only takes me 4 days with no power and heat to see violence in a whole new way. I don’t participate in any. Or even consider it, not really. But I feel it bubble up inside me, the call of an ancient ancestor, my effective friend. It rises up in me when I see […]

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Dark Roots

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I’m a faker.  I’m a faker and a poser and, what’s worse, I wear the evidence right on my head.  But it’s so wavy and luscious I can hardly feel bad about it. When I was growing up, my mother told me a few things with certainty.  She said getting tattoos was a horrible idea, […]

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When Did I Become the Grown-Up?

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When Did I Become the Grown-Up?

“Who left the empty yogurt box in the refrigerator?”  I call out in frustration.  Someone has finished the extra large pack of yogurts, and left the bare box in place. There is a studied silence from the next room, the silence of a perpetrator who doesn’t want to come clean.  In a huff, I snatch […]

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