Jennifer Fliss

Don’t flush the toilet. Don’t turn on the lights. This is a good time to either meditate or partake in that incredibly wise bit of advice to sleep when the baby sleeps.

On a dark rainy night, when our toddler was asleep, he set up Star Wars: A New Hope — who knew that was what it was called? — on the laptop. I, with a skeptical brow, cozy blanket, and my phone (in case boredom struck)...

Tights with control top: We may have gone a little overboard. A few too many beers. Several too many pizza deliveries.

You held a cap gun to my head on the bus ride home from school, threatening to shoot me, day after day. I know you couldn't have known that I had something similar happening at home.

Here’s the thing: I have benefited greatly from reading stories from others, the daring narratives of those who have histories similar to my own. We feel more human when we hear that other humans relate to an experience we maybe thought was our very own private hell.

I am alone.

It's spring! That means it's time to start thinking about summer camp for your child. Or children, if you've got beaucoup bucks to spare.

Many people (rightfully) believe that women own their bodies, and that, therefore, they should be in control of their own bodies. So why do those same people turn around and try to define girls by their clothing?

You wake up to birds chirping, just kidding, you don’t, because it’s February and it’s freezing, and also you have a kid. 

A photo of your long-dead cat, Milo, in a brass Easter egg-shaped frame. Oh, sweet animal, I miss your furballs, you think when you hang it on a low branch. Milo had an uncanny ability to hork on laps when unwanted visitors overstayed their welcome.