Sasha Brown-Worsham

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I am a mother, runner, wife, editor, and writer. My work has appeared in The New York Times, Parents, Parenting, Runner's World, and many other publications over the years. I also make a mean margarita and run races (everything from 5Ks to marathons).

I live outside of New York City with my husband, three kids (7, 5, and 4 months), a corpulent cat, and a chihuahua with emotional issues.


Sipping on:

margarita, rocks, salt

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    For most of my children's lives, my best friend has been a woman who had no children. In the past two years, she has become the mother of an adorable, playful, energetic little boy whom my 7-year-old daughter adores.

    But never once, in all of our years of friendship (going on 18 years now!), have I ever questioned whether or not our motherhood status should affect our friendship. 

    It wasn't a factor.

    We have helped each other through dating disasters, horrible breakups, bridal showers, weddings, baby showers, early motherhood, divorce, deaths in the family, and everything in between. So while we love each other's children, whether or not they get along well and become friends with each other doesn't matter at all.

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    It all started when we bought our first house together two years ago. Prior to that we had been living in a small condo in the city, which we also owned, but for some reason we always agreed on decorating decisions. Add in another 1,200 square feet? And all that synchronicity was gone like the wind.

    Our first fight was about color in the living room. The former owners had painted the living room and sitting room a horrifying forest green, which they'd then made worse by inserting bits of patterned, gold wallpaper into framed squares. It was ugly, indeed, and on that we agreed.

    On everything else? Not so much. Should the walls be gray (like I wanted)? Should we paint the woodwork to lighten it up (like I wanted)? Should we buy a gray couch (like we wanted)? Or an orange one (like I did)?

    You get the idea. I started telling friends of our fights, which were becoming epic and the one thing most all of them agreed on was this: Men have NO business making decorating decisions.

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    The next time you pass a woman wearing a pendant that looks like a pearl or a ring that looks like a large moonstone, you might want to check again. It could be made from breast milk.

    A mom in Rhode Island has discovered a way to turn breast milk into beads. And lockets. And pendants. Since starting her company just last year, artist Allicia Mogavero's Mommy Milk Creations has become so popular, her jewelry has up to a year-long wait. Sound disgusting? Most don't think so.

    Mogavero started Mommy Milk after discovering a way to harden breast milk by encasing it and covering it with resin. She promises that each piece is unique and authentic.

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    In a horrifying story out of New York City, Jill Tarlov, a mom of two college-age children and the wife of an executive at CBS, was hit by a speeding bicycle in the car lane. She is now brain-dead. It is the kind of tragic tale that chills the soul.

    One minute she was out buying a birthday present for her daughter, and the next, she was in the hospital and unresponsive, all because of a bike accident. It's the kind of thing that happens far too often.

    There are so many stories of people hit by cyclists going the wrong way down one-way streets, speeding in car lanes, and running red lights because they can. In this case, the cycle was manned by Jason Marshall, 31, a musician who allegedly yelled at Tarlov to get out of the way before mowing her down on his $4,000 bike.

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    We still have a few days left of summer, but this pumpkin roll monkey bread is already insanely popular and being shared like crazy among moms. And it's easy to see why: It's the perfect thing to bake for fall. This week, my daughter, son, and I rolled up our sleeves and baked it from scratch. So fun!

    This turned out to be a great recipe to make with older kids -- mine are 7 and 6 -- since it largely involves rolling dough, punching it, shaping it into balls, and dipping it in butter and sugar. Super fun. Ultra easy. And OMG YUM.

    But don't take my word for it. See for yourself ...

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