There’s a part of me that likes to see a high number in my drafts folder. There’s something soothing about not having to start from scratch. Knowing that something is needing you in order to feel whole, quite frankly, feels good. You therapists out there can analyze me if you like.
For many, many years I felt guilty about something. It was a secret that I shared with only my closest compadres. The dark secret was this: I didn’t feel comfortable in the role of motherhood. The idea of being a mom scared the woman out of me. This is natural, you may be saying. How
Parents, let me ask you a question. If your kids had to come up with a nickname to describe a negative personality trait of yours that, to your chagrin, you haven’t been able to shield them from, what would that name be? Bossy Pants? Angry Man? Toilet Hogger? Screaming Banshee? Mr. Hypocrisy? Endless Talker?