Kristi Pahr

I have to go shopping tomorrow and I’m dreading it.

My parenting mantra is: "Do your best and hope he doesn't turn into a sociopath." And I guess that's really all we can do, because if we're honest with ourselves, I think none of us really know what we're doing.

When my oldest son was a baby, my husband and I used to talk about what sports he would play.

I’m not a TV person. I used to be, but not so much anymore.

When I got pregnant for the third time, I was determined to have an unmedicated VBAC. I had big plans. This VBAC was going to be my birth experience salvation. It was going to be empowering and amazing and heal all my hangups. I was going to be a mama goddess and everything was going to be perfect. I was wrong.

As a mother of boys, I find this trend disturbing. Yes, we need to build up our girls. We need to empower them and teach them that they are capable and viable and powerful — that they are smart and that they matter. But we cannot devalue our boys in the process.

I found my first gray hair when I was 12 years old. Twelve. I had gray hair before I had a period.

Life looks a lot different at 40 than it did at 25, and I have a whole new list of things to worry about. It's a very long list, and it makes me anxious on the best day, plain terrified on the worst day, and on a run-of-the-mill day, it just keeps reminding me that I'm clueless about what to think and what to do and how to be grown.

Don’t be an asshole is my barometer. It’s my go-to for figuring out how to respond to any given situation, big or small, personal, local, or global.

It seems like everyone is an introvert these days.