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

Jared has diaper duty. Forever.

Why Parenting Is Like A Silicon Valley Startup

The thing is, the more I watch this show, and the more I think back to the endless years in Start Up culture that we experienced, the more I keep thinking: “This is way too similar to parenting.”

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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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3 Things That Make Parenting Harder

I worry about the food I give them. I worry about the clothes we have for them. I stress over the amount of time I spend with them . . . or don’t spend with them. When is it enough, and when is it overpowering?

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Old guy, younger woman. Nonsense.

37 Is Too Old To Date, Says Hollywood

I just wonder. . . if my daughter came home one day and said she couldn’t have a job because she was too old, how would that be right?

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I am the rock. You'll need to know that for later.

Stephen Fry Is My Spirit Animal: The Panic Of Social Anxiety

My reality has to include social anxiety, because I have had social anxiety for as long as I can remember. School programs, football stadiums, parades, large parties . . . hell, even small parties. I would rather not. To the point that I will simply not attend. Not because I can’t handle it; I can. I just don’t enjoy the crowds, and I don’t enjoy my reaction to the crowds. I get bitchy and impatient, mostly with myself, and I actually don’t like being bitchy and impatient.

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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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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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5 Reasons My Room Is Immaculately Clean

"Who puts folded shirts on top of your closet shelf? I can hardly reach the hangers, alone. Honestly, people."

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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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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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