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Some people remember where they were when they heard Kennedy was shot. Others remember where they were when they watched the moon landing. I remember where I was when I first realized Bill Clinton was lying about his sex life: Falls Church, Virginia, on the balcony of my friend Erik's apartment.
 
My daughter and...

I've been thinking about my parents. Namely, if they ever talked about how big of a deal it would be to have a biracial child. I'm guessing they didn't, that they just wanted to have a child together. But sometimes I try to think about what knowledge, if any, they could have given me to go through life as a mixed-race child...

Marrit Ingman's memoir on postpartum depression, Inconsolable: How I Threw My Mental Health Out with the Diapers, is on the shelves now. The book is smart, funny, and groundbreaking. She writes honestly about her struggle to effectively parent her...

Its official (ok, semi-official): Save for a minor post-nursery, pre-and-post nap relapse, after 2 years, one month, 6 days, I have officially weaned Yousuf (hey don't look at me funny, Alaskan Eskimos breastfeed for 5 years!).
 
For those who don't know, I am an ardent, some would say zealous, breastfeeding...

"You'll never guess what Jess' dad offered me." Through the phone, I heard the freeway rushing past Tracie's open car window, warbling the sound of her voice.
 
"What?" I asked, sitting on the edge of our bed, short of breath from rushing my seven-and-a-half-months pregnant self down the hall to answer the call....

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