Don’t you want your son to learn to experience the simchah of Purim without relying on alcohol?

I can’t invite only some of you. I can’t invite all of you. Instead, Tatty and I invite none of you

Mrs. W., when I came to your house for Shabbos, I realized how much I didn’t know

I closed my eyes and pictured the bassinet next to my bed and that the crying infant was my baby

I’d only met you once. How was I supposed to know what you liked?

Is this teaching healthy communication? What about when they get into an inevitable disagreement?

“Thank you for teaching me these lessons and helping me grow into a mature adult”

You’d mistaken my anxiety-driven silence and avoidance for snobbery

“Mommy, I love public school, but why do I feel better and more accepted in a school like this?”

I was traumatized; not by the birth itself, but at the belief that I’d failed: as a student, as a woman, as a mother