Today marks a significant and poignant milestone in my life as a parent: the preschool graduation of my youngest child. While I am brimming with excitement for my son as he prepares to embark on his kindergarten adventure, I am also enveloped in a sense of nostalgia and melancholy. It’s a conflicting blend of feelings
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Navigating the tumultuous waters of parenthood is a venture filled with countless surprises, some delightful and others, quite frankly, unexpectedly overwhelming. One of the poignant and often unspoken realities of this journey is the postpartum experience. While much attention is given to the beauty of bringing life into the world, far less is discussed about
Pregnancy is often romanticized, filled with images of joyful parenting, nursery preparations, and serene moments of bonding with the growing life within. However, for many women, including myself, the reality can be more nuanced, especially in those final weeks. The extreme anticipation mixed with physical discomfort creates a volatile emotional cocktail. Take, for instance, my
As the dawn of a new day breaks, a familiar chant reverberates through the house—a gentle yet persistent voice calling out, “Time to wake up, mama!” This engaging mantra signals the start of another day filled with the delightful chaos that accompanies raising young children. For many parents, especially those with toddlers and infants, mornings
Dear new mama, if only you could glimpse the beauty I perceive. It’s understandable that you might feel like a stranger to yourself right now. When I first entered motherhood, I found myself staring at a reflection I no longer recognized. The body I once inhabited appeared foreign and unwelcoming. I saw stretch marks that
For many of us, the relationship with our bodies starts as a tenuous journey. During my teenage years, I found myself navigating the awkward waters of self-image and societal expectations. The world has a unique way of labeling individuals, often resorting to oversimplifications like “big-boned.” At the time, this terminology felt like a defining characteristic,
Becoming a parent is often accompanied by a whirlwind of emotions, hopes, and, sometimes, unrealistic expectations. When I was pregnant, I spent countless hours visualizing the joyous arrival of my daughter and determining how to cope with the inevitable sacrifices. I braced myself for the sleepless nights and the personal time I would have to
As I delved into the treasures tucked away in the “important things” box today, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. Located under my bed, the box contained a collection of cherished artifacts: artwork, birthday cards, and sentimental trinkets. Yet, nothing was as poignant as the discovery of your hospital bracelet—the first physical token of
Reflecting on the birth of my son Rye in 2016, it strikes me how distant that era feels. It was a time brimming with optimism—Obama was in office, and there was a palpable buzz about Hillary Clinton potentially following him as president. As a Black woman, I experienced a brief yet intoxicating sense of visibility
Becoming a parent brings a host of surprises, but few are as perplexing as when your once-adventurous toddler suddenly adopts a stance of stubbornness at mealtimes. One moment, they are happily consuming a variety of pureed foods and assorted fruits; the next, your lovingly prepared meals wind up untouched and/or thrown across the floor. This