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For the birds…

“The art is not one of forgetting but letting go. And when everything else is gone, you can be rich in loss.”

― Rebecca Solnit, A Field Guide to Getting Lost

Is blogging still cool? What if I call it something else? I was never a mommy blogger because I didn’t have children, yet. Now I have four and I have a lot to say on being a mom, but it’s not the thing I want to write about. I don’t give a shit about products and milestones and funny quotes. But I do care about the crossroads mothers find themselves currently navigating. I care about how the pandemic grossly affected mothers in the workplace, shifting the professional landscape or rather moving the goal post in an already well established “man’s world.” I have been one of the lucky ones, until now. I have been able to keep my job while raising my children. But if one more person says to me, “I don’t know how you do it,” I may come undone in a spectacular fit of fireworks and words. I do it because there is no other option, but to an even larger point – I shouldn’t have to. If the “land of the free” invested in its people – invested in its mothers, in its children, it its workforce – invested in social justice, in dismantling white supremacy, in tearing down the very systems built on racism and sexism, in creating a land where opportunity was really for all, where love was for all, where we all had the same damn basic human rights not despite our difference but because of them, our potential as a nation would know no limits.

I want to write about limits and how we push them.

I want to write about unfairness and what to do about it.

I want to write about fear and faith.

And also, probably, some cute kid shit.


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