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

How To Talk To Parents About Douchey-Somewhat-Controversial-But-At-Least-Contentious-Trigger Topics

What I am not saying: "I am now going to take this opportunity to rub in your face what an inadequate parent you are for not sacrificing your entire life to homeschool your children, who you obviously don't love."

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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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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 Monday Morning Looks Like For A SAHM…In The Summer

You really, seriously wanted this week to be different!

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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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Working Out Isn't . . . Working Out

Was I hungry? Was it low blood sugar? Were my feet falling off? Was I crazy? Was I dying?

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Tamarah's Gluten Free Stuffed Mushrooms with Goat Cheese, Bacon, and Asparagus

How To Survive The Gluten Free BBQ

Before I discovered I had celiac, I ate whatever I desired. Since discovering this autoimmune blessing (yes, blessing), I research what food I am, not only putting into my body, but into my family’s as well. I taught myself how to cook nutritious food from scratch that actually tastes amazing (these two do not always go hand-in-hand).

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Jennifer Affleck and Ben Garner

JenBen Are Getting Divorced And I Don't Know What Is Real Anymore

"So, Hollywood's perfect couple is not just having a conscious uncoupling ... they are going the traditional route with a full divorce."

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mom butt. bathing suit.

I Have A Mom Butt — And It's OK

The Mom Butt is a little wider, a little flatter and a little longer than the butts on the totally dedicated and amazing women on Pinterest (mad props to them, seriously).

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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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