Opening an old journal I found on the shelf, I found these words in my handwriting: “I really wanted to go to the meetings this morning, but here I am being a mother. Mothering doesn’t stop. Their needs don’t stop. Sick kids can’t be delegated. So once again I’m isolated and he, my husband, is not.” I […]
Read MoreOpening an old journal I read some words I had written many years before: “I really wanted to go to the meetings this morning, but here I am in our apartment being a mother. Mothering doesn’t stop. Children’s needs don’t stop. Sick kids can’t be delegated. So once again I’m isolated and he, my husband, […]
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