Gemma Hartley

My husband and I have been together for 12 years, eight of them married, four of them teenaged.

As a freelancer who works from home, I get the best of both worlds as a parent.

I know it’s a lie when I tell myself that I’m “simply off” or “maybe I’m just having a few bad days” or “I’m in a funk” or “I must be upset about something, but I don’t know what.”

My six-year-old son got into the car after school and declared he only wanted to have one kid when he grew up.

At Santa Rosa Christian School, dancing was a gateway drug. The gyrating, the slow romantic swaying...

I hate some of the things I see my friends and family post on Facebook.

When my son was little, I used to let him win board games a lot.

It probably isn’t the sort of parenting moment that is supposed to make a mother proud — the hitting, growling, and otherwise uncivilized decorum... But I couldn’t help feeling a deep satisfaction with my daughter.

You are a professional. You want to handle your business with a certain air of sophistication. You want to tell them "f*ck no," but want to do so graciously, tactfully — you are, after all, a wordsmith.

I’m not saying there is no joy to motherhood. I go through periods where I do feel like I’m at my parenting best. There are times when I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for the amazing life and children I’ve been given. It can be so, so good. But what I’m saying is, it doesn’t always have to feel like that.