Jennifer Fliss

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.

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

I am alone.

Nothing says "I’m patriotic" quite like going to a wolf-themed indoor water park resort wearing your wolf-themed t-shirt. With your floaties on. And a beer in your hand.

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.

Invite friends over. They should be attractive, but don’t have to be.

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)...

I don’t think you meant well. You wanted to vomit your discontent to the world. Isn’t that embarrassing? Or is it like a seven-cocktails-and-two-shots kind of vomit?

I know of people who find one child incredibly challenging and seem to hate the whole experience. And yet they proceed to have another child willingly.

I wonder about these decisions. For me, I would be a terrible mother if I had another child.

It is the denigrating soundtrack of a breast pumping session. You, sitting at its mercy. It, just taking and taking.