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, two kids (Sam, 6, and Alan, 4), a corpulent cat, and a chihuahua with emotional issues.
Teen Mom Jenelle Evans has been pregnant four times. Let that sink in and roll around in your head for a few moments while we get ready for the next shocker. Of the times Jenelle has been pregnant, one resulted in her son Jace, one is her current pregnancy, one resulted in an abortion and one was miscarried. And it's the latter one that is causing the latest Twitter brouhaha.
Jenelle, in a tweet to a follower, said she could not remember the date of her miscarriage last year. To be sure, having a miscarriage is a horrible thing and I am sure it caused her pain when it happened. At the time, she was in a messy relationship with Courtland Rogers and she made claims against him that it was his fault she lost the baby.
But the fact that she can't remember the date of her miscarriage has caused many to question whether she even cares. She has been called "pathetic" and many, many other mean thing I won't repeat here, but let's just say people are pretty angry on Twitter. But why?
One of the most common things you start to hear after you become a mom to more than one is "when are you going to buy a minivan?" For some, this might be the epitome of uncool, a nightmare of gargantuan proportion, second only to the pain of having to leave your beloved city to buy a house in the burbs. It is, in a word, "momification." Your whole life becomes momified.
To that, I say: bring it.
Honestly, I get so tired of the essays from women like Salon writer Amy Pennza who had promised herself she'd never get a minivan and then got one anyway. What's the big deal? OK, OK, so I get that the minivan and the suburbs represent a moving along in life. It's a letting go of the old and ushering in the new. It's a goodbye to drinks with friends at 2 a.m. and sports cars that only seat two. Maybe it's because I was never really into either of those things anyway, but I say big whoop.
If only there were some kind of magic ball that could tell us exactly how and when we would go into labor. For planners like me who are used to knowing the map of things at the start of every day, the five weeks of pregnancy that are considered "term" -- 37 to 42 -- can be a maddening exercise in suspense, boredom, and fear.
The reality is, just like every human is different from every other one, every labor is different as well. Even women who have had four, five, or six children will readily say that no two of their labors started in the same way. Some had signs for weeks. Some didn't even know anything was happening until they were in the hospital.
So, for me, a pregnant woman in my 39th week, it's good to know that I need to trust my OWN instinct. There is no pattern. We asked around and found 10 different ways women knew they were in labor.
I absolutely love being in my 30s. Most of the time. Turning 30 was a rough birthday for me, but the last few years spent in my 30s have been more fun. I have been more sure of myself, my relationships, and my career. My marriage is much better and I love the security that comes from raising a family and owning a whole house (not just a condo) and not worrying about my bank account.
All that said, there are a whole lot of things I STILL miss about my 20s and most of them have to do with looks. Try as we might, we will never look as good as we did at 27. It's just a fact. One I recently confirmed when I came across an old bikini photo of myself. Three pregnancies and almost a decade later? Yeah. Not so much.
Yesterday, my sister (who turned 28 today) was lamenting her laugh lines (what laugh lines?), and it occurred to me to tell her: Appreciate your looks when you are young. They go fast. Here are 8 things I wish I'd appreciated about my looks in my 20s:
A hunter from Texas has "won" a lottery to pay $350,000 to go to Namibia and kill a black rhino. Ever since Corey Knowlton's name was released, he says HE feels like the one being hunted. Ironic, isn't it?
The black rhino is one of the most endangered species on the planet. In fact, there are only 4,000 black rhinos left. Those who defend the controversial hunting auction that sold the permit to the highest bidder say it will ultimately save the species. The money will go toward conservation. But that is not stopping people from wanting to kill Knowlton. And who could blame them for being angry?
The man wants to slaughter an old, male member of a species that is so endangered, it might be wiped off the planet. That's a "sport"? That's this guy's idea of a good time? Maybe he needs a new hobby.