I used to write about my kids.
You know, “write what you know”. I know my kids. So, sometimes, a lot of the time, I wrote about parenting. I mean, who wanted to know about my ideas?
Now, I write about my ideas – mostly about sex (did you notice?), money, and meaning.
And you know what topic encompasses (and is the logical continuation of…) sex, money, and meaning?
Babies are sometimes the outcome of sex. Raising kids requires that you talk about sex and get real clear about your attitudes about sex.
Raising kids also requires money and talking to and teaching your kids about money.
And meaning. Oh my goodness, the meaning. To be a mama is everything to me.
Joy. And sheer, unmitigating, exhausting labour.
Dan Savage says that parenting is
Yep. That’s about right, according to me, too.
And so we often talk about the misery: the late nights, the unreasonable toddler, the incessant volume – oh the incessant volume – the exhaustion, the child who will just not sleep in her own bed.
And then she crawls into my bed and takes up residence in the small of my back, and I’m home.
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