I think I’ve already established that I’m not so good at this Mother thing, what with not picking up my baby or loving her enough and all the times I’ve wrapped her up like a mummy in dangerous paper towels and left her to scream in the middle of the street. In the weeks leading [...]
At the moment I don’t feel like throwing anything across the room or at a wall. This is a good moment.
For causing the baby to smell like my saliva because I CAN’T STOP SUCKING ON HER FACE.
Volunteer to “brush me on the porch” so that all the hair I’m losing doesn’t build up on the floors inside.
Photographic evidence of our first attempt to feed Leta “solid” food, although I don’t know why they call it solid because there is nothing solid about it. If it were solid then she wouldn’t be able to paint with it, and you can clearly see here that her face is her canvas:
This is the man that I love, the father of my child: Sometimes it seems that this parenthood thing is lopsided, that the mother has to suffer all sorts of unimaginable pain to bring the child into the world while the father gets to sit to the side, smoke cigars, and pat the kid on [...]
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