"I farted at yoga. I’m a walking cliche.”
I'm not a fake, I'm a fighter and my word I'm earning my stripes. I did have cancer and hopefully I do not any more. But I did and it was real. I have nothing to feel guilty about.
I have "work brain shutdown" every single day between 4:30 p.m. - 8 p.m. During this time, I focus on my son and hubby. You
In a way, these half-written blogs and unfinished reflections sum up the past six months pretty well: a collection of emotions and experiences with few clear ends or answers, with dangling ellipses and uncertain next chapters.
Like all good rebels, rebel parents challenge our hyper-protective, fear-ingrained, consumer-driven lives, and frankly, I think we are a lot better off with them throwing caution to the wind than we are with the more pervasive absentee or "helicopter" parents.
If there's a moment where motherhood turns you into the kind of selfless, viceless, paragon of virtue seen in these sorts of ads, I'm still waiting for its arrival.
This week's column features Mahalia Jackson, Daniel Lanois, Harry Partch, Mum, Marah and MGMT.