Gemma Hartley

Despite endless exhortations to "enjoy every second," the reality of three toddlers is not always a Disney postcard. And it's okay for some moms to admit that they look forward to having a little less mess, a little more serenity.

This straggler struggle is weighing on me! That is, the struggle of having one straggler child left at home, and I’m wondering if it will ever get better.

Back when I had my first child, back when he was still a baby, I imagined us moving to the mountains. I was thinking about having three more kids, living off the grid, and soaking up every last bit of their wild childhood. It was a fantasy, through and through.

Starting a new year makes me look toward the future, looking at all the choices that lay ahead of me. But it also nudges me to examine my past in a very certain way. It's the time of year I always find myself thinking about the choices I didn’t make — about the life I didn't live.

I want and need to save some room for myself, to know that I am worthy of a place in the world without the label of mother.

The insecurities about my age pushed me over the edge, making me work myself to the bone trying to be what I thought society would deem as a “good mom.” So I wish people understood that it’s never OK to comment on a mother’s age — young or old. Because the judgmental connotation is always there, no matter how innocent the intent.

I could very easily slip through the next four years with blinders on and feel largely unaffected by the political climate. Which is why it’s so important for me to remind myself every day to stay in the fight. Even when it doesn't affect me personally, I owe it to my allies to remain vigilant all (four) year(s) long.

“Feminism” wasn’t a word I heard much growing up. When I did hear it, I equated it with a historical event, not a work in progress. I thought first-wave feminism was a one-and-done deal, and that all the work necessary for women’s equality had already been accomplished.

There is a time to be prudent and fair to “many sides” of an issue, but dealing with Nazis is not that time.

Getting pregnant after postpartum depression may have stolen a lot from me, but it gave me a lot more.