Kristi Pahr

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

I think we can all agree that there is some messed up stuff happening right now.

I know how it feels to not contribute financially to the household. I know how it feels to be completely dependent on someone else for my financial stability. I know how it feels to know that if something dreadful and unthinkable happened, I’d be completely destitute. And it’s terrifying.

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

2016 sucked. If we can’t agree on anything else, I think we can all agree on at least that much.

Things as simple as a missed call from an unknown number or someone knocking on your door put me into straight up fight or flight. I really do hide from people who come to my door. Real talk, I have gotten on my hands and knees below a window so they wouldn’t see me. I’ve even hidden in the closet. I know. Whacko.

“Is she Black or white?” I asked another mom who was describing a little girl in her son’s class that she thought my family might know.