I cannot blame my mother for telling me something that I clearly did yet want to know. My aunt had just recently converted to Jehovah’s Witnesses, so I had been asking a lot of uncomfortable questions about why my cousins weren’t getting Christmas presents, and I think my mom was just getting tired of having to make up increasingly elaborate lies. I would like to think that I wouldn’t lie to my daughter, either, or, at the very least, that I raise my daughter to not lie about the big things. More
Author Archives: Anonymous Mom
And so I went for the first of many blood tests. When the results came back, my hormone levels were that of a woman in her late 60s. My OB was over her head and quickly referred me to a specialist. Fast forward five to six blood tests and two months and the answer was clear- my ovaries were cobweb collectors. More
I understand that in being a first-time parent you will be in awe of every single thing the child does, but my daughter-in-law is over the top and to be around her parenting style is exhausting. More
For whatever reason a woman might choose to put an end to the life of her unborn fetus, I firmly believe that it’s no one’s business what her choice may be. Only the person involved knows whether or not this choice is right for them. I also believe that having an abortion should be an exception, and that the consequences of having the child should outweigh the consequences of having an abortion.
Yet, never did I imagine that the day would come where I would have to fight my boyfriend and his family for the right to keep my unborn child. More
Before I had a child of my own, I merely disliked them. They made me long for those proverbial “good ol’ days,” when children were seen and not heard. A golden age of yore when they had it half right (I mean, I’d rather not see them either, truth be told). However, thanks to their mother and grandmother, who, God only know why, have worked them up to a fever pitch over my new baby, my feelings have escalated to complete abhorrence (yes, I consulted a thesaurus in composing this piece). More
I’m not someone who checks the sex offender registry regularly or thinks about it all that much. I checked it before we bought our house four years ago and maybe twice since. So when a friend mentioned she had found an old high school classmate on there, it occurred to me it had been a while and it might be worth a look. I was not prepared for what I found. More
With my first child, my husband was very excited to be part of the whole having-a-baby process. He loyally attended every prenatal appointment, went to the labor classes, and helped me pick a dula. When it came time to actually push out the child, I knew it would be mostly on me. He tried to be helpful, but ultimately, he clearly got frustrated by how long it took, got bored, and was generally not a fan of the process. I knew he would be kicked out of the room once I started pushing (part of the reason I felt I needed a dula), but I wanted him out way sooner. More
I may be the only person who hasn’t heard of it. A random commenter used the term, “Mombie.” Hello, lightbulb! What a wonderful, wonderful term. Of course, it’s not new, as I confirmed on Urban Dictionary. The word, “mombie” is the by far the most fitting word for the mommies I know. And yes, I despise “mommies,” “mama bears,” and all other “mom.” flavored names. I am a mom or mother. More
He was extremely abusive. I wasn’t allowed to use birth control or have a job. My job was home in the kitchen, and that’s that. I almost lost our second at five months pregnant from taking a steel toe boot to the back. After three years, the physical abuse tapered off, but it was daily verbal abuse. I was called a “bitch,” “dirty cunt” and a “whore” daily, in front of the kids. Our second daughter was a HUGE disappointment to him, as it was his third girl, and she has autism. More
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One night, however, he watched a whole episode of “Breaking Bad.” (I know, I know. That’s why I’m writing this anonymously, OK?) He normally would have been nursing at that time, but instead he was wide awake and not at all hungry. Meanwhile, I really needed to watch one of the final episodes of my favorite show, and we don’t have a DVR. I happened to have him side-saddle on my lap, where he could easily turn his head and see the set… which he did. He fixed on the images flashing across the screen — and then stayed there, staring calmly, for the full hour. I did cover his eyes during the gun fight, though, because I wanted to protect my candidacy for Mom of the Year. More
I am horrified when I hear my older sister Allison call my 10-year-old niece things like “fat ass” and “gordo.” It’s been going on for quite a while now, well before my niece hit her tweens and started gaining a bit of puberty weight. I often wonder if the weight she has gained is something unrelated or if it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy brought on by her mom’s insistence that she was heavy long before weight was ever an issue. I was uncomfortable when my sister called her “fat thigh baby” when she was three, I was shocked and dismayed the first time she called her “Miss Piggy” at five and I’m still unnerved every time she says those things now. More
A few years ago, my cousin had fertility problems and ended up having quadruplets. Everyone rushed to help. But the help has continued and every time we ask for a night out, we are told no one can because they are helping with the quads. They have had constant help from lots of family members for years now. I understand they needed it when the quads were preemie babies (my first was a preemie too), but the kids are almost three years old now and my cousin has never watched them by herself for a day! More
I did what I was “supposed to” do. I breastfed for a year. I fed on demand. We co-slept. I was a babywearing champion. No cry went unattended. My SuperMom badge was due to arrive any day. And I loved it when my son was an infant.
But then he turned into a super clingy toddler and even clingier preschooler. Now at nearly six years old he can’t play by himself. More