Families

I immediately felt like I'd known Bryn. We hung out, we ate. I laughed until I peed my pants.... Interviewing Bryn for Ravishly's PWL was the next logical progression. I mean, I love Byrn, and we all love a good birth story and The Birth Hour delivers on the (twice) weekly.

I had all my parents' attention, all the time. Yes, it felt a little much at times, but it also made me a great conversationalist. Hanging out around adults was calming. They didn't pull my hair or push me over to grab a toy. They didn't spit on me or break my things. They had self-restraint. (And they responded well to stares.)

We parents always get caught up in our children’s delightful personalities and try to predict future careers. I have no doubt this little activist/politico has a bright future ahead of him making a difference for a lot of people, since he has more than made a difference for me.

When I brought my son into the world, I thought that he would be an awful lot like me. He had to be, right? He grew inside me; I nourished him; I was the one home with him day in and day out during those very impressionable years, while my husband worked a grueling military schedule — yet there are few similarities to be found.

There are some days of parenting that are magical, full of unicorns and four leaf clovers and lottery winnings. Those are the moments when I catch myself, just for a second, feeling content and happy and looking around trying to freeze things. Out of 7000 days, those maybe make up five a year.

I know deep down I wouldn’t be able to do what Maddie is doing. She’s so strong and determined to give her unborn child the best. As I look at my other friends, I know that if any one of them was to fall into Maddie’s situation they wouldn’t be nearly as positive and able as she is.

Just as you're learning to navigate the world by yourself, I guess it's time for me to relearn the ropes of motherhood. To patiently watch you find your wings, to sit in the shadows and watch you fly, to applaud you quietly from a distance, to embrace you when you decide to come back. Only to go off by yourself again.

If he were an a--hole to my kids, things would be easier. But he’s not. He’s good with them. He’s his best self. It makes me alternately happy and heartbroken.