renegade mothering

renegade mothering "renegade mothering" is in defense of bad mothering. These are the tales of a wayward mama. Women have told me "you say what I've experienced but never had the courage to admit." I tell the truth, as I see it -- I have no censor button. I don't try to maintain an image. I don't talk about recipes or knitting or vast over-arching parenting beliefs, nor do I offer "tips and tricks" for parenting. I don't know any of those. I just tell my story, as a woman and wife and mother who sometimes has no idea how to do any of those things. The result is often funny (if I may say so myself), sometimes raw and uncomfortable, but always real.

Web Site: http://www.renegademothering.com/


So basically, you’re doing everything wrong always

So basically, you’re doing everything wrong always

Everybody’s always trying to figure out how to do it right. What’s “best” for my children? What can I do to raise the healthiest, most well-adjusted kids possible? How can I do it “right?” Well I think we should reframe this whole discussion into a simple recognition that we’re doing it all wrong. Everything...

This Mother’s Day, you’ll find me talking shit about motherhood.

This Mother’s Day, you’ll find me talking shit about motherhood.

  Do you know why? Because motherhood can take it. Because there is nothing stronger. I can tear it up, brutalize it, make fun of it in every way possible, tease the darkest corners, shed light in most covered places…and yet she stands undiminished, untouched. She barely hears me. She raises a disinterested brow...

This week…Listen to Your Mother!

This week…Listen to Your Mother!

  You know, sometimes life is to be lived. Other times, it’s to be endured. I mean nobody ever wants to admit it, but there are times when the only thing you can do is grit your teeth and power forward knowing it will get easier soon and you can live again. I am...

Don’t look away

Don’t look away

So it happened the other day. My daughter, she’s eleven. She’ll be twelve in November. She grew up the other day. We were going to a town in the wine country, to hear a rock-n-roll band. We were going to have dinner first. It was a lovely evening. She put on a dress, gloves,...

Things I’m supposed to care about but don’t, Volume I

Things I’m supposed to care about but don’t, Volume I

I spend a good portion of my mothering life in a state of “What the fuck just happened?” The rest of the time I’m like “Wait. I’m supposed to care about that?” You know, I’m looking at magazines and headlines and websites and since they’re all saying the same thing it APPEARS that these...

Commentary: I used to not cry about things like this

I used to not cry about things like this. The big tragedies. The ones that kill and kill and kill. Columbine. 9-11. I don’t think I cried about those. Not even a single tear. Maybe I was just too self-centered. Maybe too young. Maybe I just didn’t get it, couldn’t feel it. Humanity. Maybe...

Toddler, the New Psycho

Toddler, the New Psycho

Do you ever look at your toddler and think to yourself “Clearly, this child is insane.”? Like she’s nuts. Crazy. Bonkers. LOST IT. Like somewhere between 14 months and 2.5 years, some critical brain component just shut right down and now, well, now you’ve just got the leftover nutcase. You know what the worst...

Renegade Mothering: This week…profanity, fubu, bunnies. Whatever.

Renegade Mothering: This week…profanity, fubu, bunnies. Whatever.

  In 11 days I take my exam. That is why you haven’t seen much of me, and you haven’t seen any FTM Friday posts. I apologize for my flakiness. It’s not that the love is missing. It’s that there are only so many times you can neglect real life for the sake of...

Things that Suck More Than Turning 34

Things that Suck More Than Turning 34

I’m turning 34 tomorrow. I know, I know. I’m a baby. Unless you’re under the age of 25, in which case I’m used up with one foot in the grave and should probably just throw in the ol’ towel now while I still have some dignity left. Whatever. To be honest, I get a...

Poppy Harlow is a douchebag, and so are her friends.

Poppy Harlow is a douchebag, and so are her friends.

Poppy Harlow, you’re a douchebag. And so are you, ­­Candy Crowley. And Lester Holt, thank YOU for your insightful words in response to the rape of a 16-year-old girl in Steubenville, Ohio: “In many ways, tonight stands as a cautionary tale to a generation that has come of age in the era of social...