Kelly Burch

“How many time have I asked you….” I say in frustration, and then it hits me. The real question I should be asking is how many times I’ve uttered that phrase.

Parenting my daughter through toddlerhood is sometimes amazingly rewarding. Her personality is emerging and I see the conversation and friendship that will hopefully fill our lives when she says things like, “I’m really proud of you, Mommy,” or “You’re my best friend.” Other times, when she blatantly refuses to obey, I seethe.

Our culture is so preoccupied with The Other, and the obsession with falling in love with a foreigner is just another manifestation of that. But I quickly found out that falling in love with someone from another country is not all fun and glory.

There’s something fascinating about a date that you only get during one-quarter of your years on the planet — an extra, bonus day, that’s a bit outside the norm. According to English tradition, Leap Day is the one day when women can propose to men, the idea being that a day that falls outside the normal social bounds is perfect for breaking convention. You don’t have to propose to your love today (although if you plan to, be sure to share the story with us!), but I challenge you to break with the tradition of self-sacrifice, and take some time on this bonus day to put yourself first.

Posting about my miscarriage on Facebook was the most cathartic thing I could have done for myself. It allowed me to validate my feelings.

I’ve been waiting years to celebrate my undying love of all things Christmas with my child, but now that my toddler is old enough to understand the joys of the holiday season I’ve realized that there are some things about the holidays that only a parent can understand.

I clearly remember the first time that I was forced to accept that something was wrong.

Can you name an elite female athlete? If you asked me to name someone other than Venus or Serena Williams I’d have a tough time.

Someone yelled out a racist comment, and Trump said, “Hey, I can’t say it, but he can.”

My husband brought home his first gun while I was at work. When I came in he pointed to it proudly, while I stood firmly on the other side of the room, looking at the firearm like it was an unpredictable animal that could spring up to bite me at any moment.