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Browsing Tag: mommy wars

Staying On My Mat

Last Thursday was “What I Want to Be When I Grow Up” dress-up day at Saoirse’s preschool, which is a really hard concept for a four-year-old whose picture of the world is limited to her teachers, the mail carrier, and the little family living within the four walls of her home.  A couple of days beforehand, at the table during lunch, I asked Saoirse how she wanted to dress for the big day. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I asked her. Saoirse frowned.  “I dunno.” “Well,” I said, “when you become a grown-up, and aren’t a kid anymore, what do you want to be? What kind of job would you like?” SK’s face brightened, a small smile breaking open. “A mommy,” she decided, satisfied. I swallowed. “What’s that?” I asked. “You want to be a mommy?” “Yeah!” Saoirse replied, nodding. “I want to be a mommy.” Inside, in my brain, I involuntarily called out, Wait, no! You want to be more than that…

Begin the Begin (thanks, R.E.M.)

I just had a conversation with a friend about her plugged milk duct.  That’s right, the one in her boob.  At one point, the conversation veered dangerously close to an actual competition about who’d had more plugged ducts in her breastfeeding experience, who’s was more painful and who used the best technique to work them out (feel free to cringe at that thought).  I’m shaking my head as I type this, because I know it’s ridiculous.  War veterans compare wounds and battle stories.  Religious missionaries in foreign lands swap their experiences.  But nursing moms going nose-to-nose (or should I say bosom-to-bosom?) in lactating warfare?  Now, that’s something I never could have anticipated. But the thing is, as parents–and as stay-at-home moms, at that–it’s what we know.  It’s who we are.  What’s unexpected is how quickly the change happens–how rapidly our identities became wrapped up in the families we create.  I still feel like I’m only now getting my balance back after being knocked into this whirlwind two and…