Me
I wrote a two-page response to a forum post about abusive parents, and two hours later started crying because I thought I'd heard my mother's voice.
I wrote a two-page response to a forum post about abusive parents, and two hours later started crying because I thought I'd heard my mother's voice.
Every time I look at our baby boy, I am reminded of how much I don't want to do this.
We each got what was important to us in the divorce: I got the kids and he got everything else.
My ten-month-old son had already called my boss and sent a nonsensical text to a guy I dumped five years ago before I realized the object in his small hand was not one of his Christmas presents.
I know about my daughter's dishonesty from what I've read in her diary, which leaves me unable to take a moral stand against it.
Catching my sons vomit in my hand when he threw up last night made me realise just how far I would go for my children.
Now that my sister is depressed, mom says it's a "damnable disease," but when I was depressed five years ago, I was just "a bitch".
Just as I was about to tell my eight-year-old daughter the truth about Santa Claus, she said she was going to ask him to end the war in Iraq.
On my coming out to my mother, she told the whole family, adding that if they had a problem with it, she would have no problem burying them, dead or alive.
Becoming a stay-at-home mother has made me believe there is absolutely nothing wrong with drinking before noon.
It was when I saw her feet dangling by the bedside wastebasket that I realized she hadn't been kidnapped, but that I had mistakenly pushed her off the bed in my sleep.
When my three year old said that all "towel heads are evil," I knew it was time to explain how grandpop was a racist.
As I woke up from my nap to find written on my feet "This is my momma and you can't have her," I realized that my child is very, very strange.
"Just lock your door at night" is not a reasonable thing to say to your 12-year-old daughter when she tells you her stepfather is molesting her.
Before I was a parent I never could have imaged that one day I would own both a horse and a saddle that are worth more than my car.
I was so disappointed when I learned Santa was Mom and Dad, but I am so excited now that Santa is me.
Our father's favourite game of deserting us in public places strengthened our sibling bond.
The first time my baby cried, I woke up from my 8 hour anesthesia coma, sat up in bed, and said "give me my baby."
I am heart-sick because, like many parents of children with profound disabilities, my most secret and unspoken prayer is "Dear God, please let me outlive my child."
I'm trying to convince my mom to let me go to a co-ed sleepover, but she's like a stone wall.
I can't wait until "Cars" comes out on DVD because I am so sick of watching "Over the Hedge" non-stop.