Every parent in every generation has a different set of tools that they rely upon, and well, technology hasn’t always been kind parents in the 21st-century. Because of the prevalence that screens and other advances have in our lives, we’ve become arguably more disconnected from each other than ever before. However, I can’t pretend that it also hasn’t made my life easier in a lot of really small ways. I catch myself using the same little hacks over and over again to make life a bit more manageable, and they’ve become nearly indispensable in the way I raise my kids. So I just wanted to give a quick shout-out to my top five tech-hacks that make parenting a tiny bit easier.
Anyone who knows me knows that I do not cook. I just don’t. It’s ironic, really, because for a really really really long time I wanted to open a restaurant. I love and appreciate food, I really do. I’m just…lazy. Plus, I married someone who cooks really well, and if I look pathetic enough, he’ll mostly give in and feed me. Continue reading
Mommy. Mommy. My head hurts. My knee hurts. My elbow. Mommy. I’m so sorry, Mommy. I don’t feel good. Mommy, it hurrrtttts! No, Mommy, I don’t want it! No, ohhh, my diaper…Mommy.
This has been our soundtrack. For weeks. Not days, weeks. Our little Phoenix came down with the flu a week after the New Year. Fine, we said. She’ll get sick. That’s what happens in school. You know little kids and their germs, right? I even blamed myself, because I had been unsure about whether to get her the flu shot due to all the controversy and some rather vehement opinions from the grandparents.
After two weeks at home, she was excited to go back to school, see her teachers and friends, and get back into her routine. For six days. By the end of the sixth day, she was running a temperature, and the next morning, we were back at the pediatrician. This time, the likely diagnosis is strep. Continue reading
I’m a mom now, so I could start this letter by saying how I have three little girls and how it’s so important for girls to see powerful female characters and all that. But even though that’s important, that’s not what I want to say. This letter is from me.
Growing up I knew about Wonder Woman. I just didn’t really care about Wonder Woman. She was beautiful and awesome, but constantly overshadowed by characters like Batman and Superman. She didn’t really seem to have her own thing going on–if I ever saw her, it was as a member of the Justice League, a pretty chauffeur in an invisible jet. She never saved the day. She wasn’t a crunch player. She wasn’t an MVP. She was a token female and I figured she had to be dating someone or they wouldn’t have let her in. The original live action Wonder Woman from the 1974 film, Lynda Carter, was pretty awesome, but she still didn’t inspire me. She was so dainty. Lynda Carter was unbelievably refined and beautiful, and I had skinned knees and oversized Pokémon t-shirts. Unfortunately, she just seemed like another standard of femaleness that I wouldn’t hit. Continue reading
Sunday was Mother’s Day, and I had no expectations. My husband and I have been arguing, money has been tight, and the schedule has been packed. I felt that there was no point in getting my hopes up that “it would be my day.” Being that my kid isn’t even two, I doubted I’d even get so much recognition as a macaroni necklace.
Mother’s Day is hard for all moms. It sucks to have people tell you that it’s all about you, when really, as soon as they say “Happy Mother’s Day” and throw their last-minute, everything-else-was-sold-out gift at you, they’re off the hook and it’s back to the same grind that you do every freaking day. It’s especially hard when your own mom isn’t around anymore. For the last nine years, Mother’s Day has been more about what I didn’t have than what I did. Continue reading
It’s been quite some time since I posted. Valerie and I optimistically took on this self-care challenge at the beginning of this year, hoping to lead by example and help parents (especially moms) everywhere learn how to prioritize their own health and well-being. I was so excited. I’ve been burning myself out trying to juggle school, the (multiple) sites I write for, my full-time job, my part-time job, planning an overseas trip, my kitchen renovation, and of course, my toddler.
In one organization that I’m affiliated with, they say that when you make a new commitment to something, what will inevitably start to happen in your life is that you will see all the things that no longer fit with who you want to be. It’s not that things are so wrong, it’s just that you’re seeing them in the light of the new determination that you’ve made. Continue reading
Okay, folks. We’re almost one month into this self-care thing. How’s it going?
Yeah. I thought so. Me too.
It’s HARD to take care of yourself. It’s hard to prioritize your own care in a world that is constantly pulling on you in every direction. How can you afford to take the time to take care of yourself when you can barely hold it together at work? Continue reading
I love my job. I’ve been teaching adult education classes for the last three years, and I feel that helping people establish their new careers while simultaneously teaching them about finance is rewarding and important work. However, since I came back from maternity leave, I’ve thought about quitting before every. single. class. Continue reading
I am African-American, Dominican, and Cherokee. I grew up in a home where there was a lot of love, and my family brought in enough money to pay the bills, but we were paycheck-to-paycheck anyway. When I went to public school, my class was predominantly black. To them, the Dominican boy was Dominican. The Polish boy was Polish. Both of them were lighter than me, but to my class, I was white.
At eleven years old, I received a scholarship for minority students and was accepted into a prestigious private school. I was surrounded by white people and I was definitely not one of them. I thought the two Chinese, one Puerto Rican and two other black students that were accepted at the same time as I was would have my back, but they drifted into their cliques and I was alone. And light-skinned. Continue reading