There may be more Play-Doh paraphernalia under the tree tonight along with a giant bag of coal and a scrolling list of chores.
This ornament is going to make my friend Leah so goddamn happy. Better than a gif of a naked baby bear dancing to the Bee Gees.
Because I got really, really tired of explaining again and again that I do not get Minecraft, and no, I cannot help you.
This season of illness is so not fucking around.
Just because she can’t balance anything on her head doesn’t mean she’s completely useless.
This season has not been kind to my child in terms of illness, but she has so much content to pull from for her eventual award-winning collection of poetry.
I’d actually encourage her to take this up over the violin any day of the week.
Before you judge me, remember that the other one I raised was deconstructing Shakespeare at her age and negotiating peace treaties between warring nations.
“Last night I sat there struggling with the duty I have to destroy that innocent notion of hers, a notion born of my ignorance and my privilege, the privilege shared by so many other well-intentioned but naive white parents.”
Sharing my bed with the other kid this week.