So Fresh & So Clean

Today, as I was stretching to reach the top of the shower rod, so I could thread plastic loops through the holes of both the shower curtain and the liner, which I couldn’t even see because I’m way too short, I thought… adulting is stupid. Half the time, I feel like I’m playing house, doing... Continue Reading →

4 Reasons I Took My Kid to March For Our Lives Atlanta

At 7 years old, my daughter, has already attended seven civil rights marches (if you count the five Pride parades she’s attended—and I do. Oh, I do.). I don’t come from a long line of activists. In fact, my parents always seem (not so secretly) appalled that I let Jane march through the streets holding signs, chanting, and generally being a rabble-rouser. But here’s the thing: Jane was born into activism.

Raising a Kid Who Sees (and Celebrates) Color

Our daughter’s start in the world was less than traditional--conceived with donor sperm and born to lesbian parents. Then, when Jane was 4, her Bobby (Jane’s non-biological parent), transitioned from female to male. Que the crash course in gender, acceptance, and celebrating who we are—even if who we are makes us a little different. 

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