I'm worried my daughter thinks that being a mother or a parent who chooses to stay at home is as one-dimensional and simplistic and unfulfilling as sweeping a dirty floor.
We try to teach our daughters to love their bodies, no matter the size. We want to empower girls to respect themselves. But how can we teach them to make strong, independent decisions about their own selves when society, peers (and yes, even parents) are sending mixed messages?
Being my mother's only child has been a blessing and a curse. It has meant that I have been lucky enough to have her all to myself. All of her love, generosity and support. When obstacles began to come down our way, it meant that I was the only person who could love her as only a daughter can.
Let's teach our daughters to celebrate other women's strength, success and happiness. Let's not limit their options.
Just a few years after Disney bought Marvel, the merger is having a distinct effect on some of each company's most beloved characters... In one artist...
I work because scratching the itch to create makes me happy, and that happiness bleeds over into every other area, including how patient and engaged and creative a mother I am.
How do I raise my baby girl to love -- or, at the very least, not to hate -- the same features I have picked apart for so long?
Does my world perspective help me raise globally conscious kids? Or does my travel across the world mean that they miss out on something essential in what a mother promises her child?
This week, blogger Kim Bongiorno's piece about teaching her daughter to be comfortable in her own skin -- however that skin will change as she grows u...
From the moment I knew of your existence I couldn't imagine life without you. I knew what an honor and a gift it would be to get to be your mother. And so, it has been my heart's desire to guard your heart, to protect it, and to cherish it all the days of my life.
Two years ago, I lay in a hospital bed, a fetal monitor strapped to my belly. Your heartbeat accelerated and decelerated, sending the monitor's needle dancing. The nurse smiled: "This one is going to be a handful." You're much more than a handful now, 2 years old and full of fire.
Each year, they become unrecognizable from the baby or child they were the year before. Each day is over before I've begun to take it in.
I can't stop people from telling their children that girls don't run, yell, punch or get rowdy. But I wish I could.
Underlying my bid for my daughter's emotional well-being was the down-and-dirty truth: I wanted her to look pretty in her school pictures, her cascading hair framing her face, so I could show her off to friends and relatives.
I grew up in the '60s and '70s, when motherhood was a different ball game. No one suggested that my mom do half the things that mothers feel compelled to do in 2012.
It's easy to fall into the gendered trap of assuming that hammers and nails are the preferred territory of boys, but my 5-year-old daughter attacked this building project with more enthusiasm than I have seen her show in weeks.
I always ran through scenarios for the girls and their first boyfriends. It involved scaring the boyfriends, embarrassing the girls and making sure the boys knew dad would be watching.
In Trixie Pixie and the rest of the skaters, they saw adult women who embodied the many things that we try to teach them about being a strong and secure person in the world.
Your daughters need to be taught that we all need a place to love, to be necessary and to play in life in order to maintain our vitality and strength.
"Oh, yes. Grace," I began, haltingly. "One thing to remember is that you will be at camp, having all of these new experiences. Everything here is just the same as ever. I'll be here in my ordinary life."
I'm a flip-flopper. Maybe I'd make a better politician than a parent.
Like all parents, I have many hopes and dreams for my girls. I want them to have rich, fulfilling lives. However, I also want them to make mistakes and learn from their missteps.
As the calendar took me into my 40's, I fell in love and suddenly, children entered the discussion (though I worried about being called "Grandpa" by mistake).
This is a question that all parents ask themselves... constantly. There are no easy answers and, realistically, there is probably not one single answer. The important thing for parents is to at least ask and try to answer the question for their own family.
If a little girl pours you an imaginary cup of tea, you drink it, with your pinky in the air, dammit.
