Tamarah Rockwood

Tamarah Rockwood

Bio

Tamarah Rockwood is a stay-at-home, homeschooling, beer drinking, bourbon loving, roller skating, forest-dwelling mother of 5.  She met her husband in high school, and they have been getting away with unlimited snogging and being stupidly happy together for over 20 years.  Tamarah has a degree in American & British Literature, published a book of poetry (“Petals of Magnolia”), which has gone on to win zero national awards, and been an in-house editor for small poetry journals, worked in real estate (yuck), art galleries (yay!), substitute teaching and finally pole-vaulting into SAHM-hood without even spilling her drink.  In her free time she writes for her blog, The Platypus Directive, as well as XOJane and Featured Blogs on BlogHer, thinking about redefining motherhood, figuring out what it means to be a woman, and posting bourbon reviews.  Hey, somebody’s gotta do it.  

Tamarah Rockwood Articles

Statue of David. Image: Michelangelo

#DontBeADickDay Should Be Every Freakin' Day

You are being a dick if you intentionally create drama in a friendly conversation. You argue about everything from politics, to career choices, to shoe choices, to the quality of people around you to the quality of the pizza you ordered. No one cares about your opinions regarding pepperoncinis on pizza.

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What's stopping you?

Pinterest Motivation Is A Lie

"Day to day life is going to the DMV, or picking up a few things at Home Depot, or going to bed early. Although I really do like the spunk of motivational posters to put
the idea of “what if” into our heads..."

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In Case Seattle Sinks Into The Ocean: A Bucket List

Kathryn Schulz from The New Yorker has warned the entire West Coast of an eminent natural disaster. Apparently, the Western coastline has this crazy fault line that has stretch marks called the “Cascadia subduction zone.” And it is in these subduction zones which we are all going to die.

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pickaxe fashion

The Forest Fashionista: Off The Grid Fashion Tips

Yet, there is life beyond just t-shirt and jeans. There is more to an ensemble than denim and scarves.

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Back to (home)school.

Back-To-School Separation Anxiety: Homeschool Edition

I know sending kids to school is the most normal thing on earth. I know they are going to do great, and I know they are going to flourish. And I know it is only twice a week, and I am still the teacher the rest of the time.

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Zero tolerance makes zero sense.

Zero Tolerance For Zero Tolerance

The impropriety of the nefarious Zero Tolerance Policy is a double edged sword. On one hand, you cut the serious threats which could jeopardize the students and teachers in school. No doubt, if a kid has a gun in their backpack — serious threat. On the other hand, you cut the benign and harmless students who are blindsided after the handcuffs are slapped on their wrists, and they are escorted out by police for building a clock for their robotics club.

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Summer Vacation: You've Made It Halfway. Now What?

My brain seems to have stopped functioning at its full capacity, and I am simply going through the motions of loading the car and unloading the car at this point. Kids? Check. Purse? Check. Shoes? Check. Towels? Purely optional. Sunblock? Check.

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The Writer's Struggle: A Peek Inside The Quest To Get My Brain Back

There comes a point in every writer’s life when their brain just refuses to work.

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the first and last time we could find matching shoes.

Number One Sign You're An Imperfect Parent: You Have Kids

My house is a mess, my patience is hardly a composure I explore regularly, and there are times when I feel like I am the biggest failure in the history of modern motherhood. Some days I’m just shooting for a participation trophy. There is no award for ignoring the laundry until everyone is out of underwear, or letting my 3-year-old watch Mulan 3 times before lunch. Did I mention I take my kids to McDonald’s once a week?

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Use your words...really.

6 Things Your Kids Need To Hear You Say

The truth is, my kids are not going to grow a deeper character thanks to perfect floors. Granted, it will make life easier for me, no doubt: there are few things that make my stomach drop than walking into a room that I just cleaned, and seeing a spoonful of peanut butter just sitting on the floor (I have an accomplished toddler). Peanut butter on the floor, or on the counter, or on the tablecloth — or anywhere other than on a piece of bread — is frustrating.

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