To the outside world, blogging can seem like a solitary endeavor with millions of writers sitting alone filling computer screens with words. But blogging is just partly about writing; it is really about making connections. You put your soul on your blog, and people respond.
I was just about to hang up my hat and decide that I wasn't a writer that anyone would read when a tiny incident changed everything.
I've been writing professionally for a long time now, taking breaks here and there to procreate, and I can tell you that I would not be as far along in my career if it weren't for a network of women who have helped me along the way, just as I've helped them.
I peer down at my own child, snoozing and serene, and have a distinct, crystalline thought. I don't know what kind of mother I will be -- it is still too soon to tell -- but I will never be like that woman across the way.
My teenage son has begun looking at colleges. Recently, while we were looking at admissions brochures over breakfast, he asked me how I'd feel if he joined a fraternity.
Get ready for a generation raised to believe that they are the center of the universe, who believe that everything they do is of immense interest to the rest of the world.
Yep, these are the types of things my sweet little imps (and yours) have volunteered during carpools, sleepovers and playdates. Be careful what you tell them and who you let them talk to.
I do wish I had realized that just because something is biological or natural, doesn't mean it comes without struggle. It's such a simple thought, but I think it was lost on me in those early days when I was short on sleep and high on anxiety.
I have come to the conclusion that some of you Mommy Bloggers apparently don't think your children are ever going to grow up. Let me assure you, it will happen.
Being a mother is the most anxiety-instilling, fear-provoking, insecurity-inspiring job in the world. But it is different than any other job we assume.
At this point in my life, no, I don't have much career ambition. There, I said it. It's just not in me right now and I'm OK with that (I think).
What if all that was required of us was to just be -- stripped bare of what we know? What in your life could be transformed in that instant?
We moms are handling the hardest job in the world: raising children. The challenges we face day to day are hard enough without being judged by other moms. And this is what these judging mommy blogs and social posts are all about -- the need to feel superior and show people how perfect you are and how imperfect everyone else is.
After writing about the secret language of moms, it dawned on me that there are so many unique qualities that we share as parents -- and they literally set us apart from every other life force on Earth.
There was a certain language they spoke, that cliché "parentese," that I swore would never pass my lips.
My 8-year-old son, Duzi, is HIV positive. He is not scary and he is not contagious. He takes a regimen of anti-retroviral medication every day and has an undetectable viral load. He is not a threat to anyone.