Parenting during the pandemic is a wild ride, so consider this our queer parenting circle, a safe place to share the good and the bad!
Reclaiming queer procreation, dropping the last nap, stupid crows, Baby T. at A-Camp, and losta cute T. Rex pics.
“What I’m saying is, if you’re sitting in the legislative chamber trying to hear the floor debate and someone’s kid starts crying or yelling “Baby Shark!” please be kind to them.”
Remi loves the ocean so very much wow, baking cookies with a two-year-old, some very cute holiday-ish pics, having it all is a lie, #Cativan, and more Baby T. updates for your face!
“Good” and “bad” in a very bad world, fall fun, toddler logic, echolocation, fall fun, adults-only Halloween, and a requested cat + baby update.
I love how soft I am postpartum. It’s a reminder of how my body stretched and grew and changed to grow a tiny human. I didn’t know I could be that strong and that soft simultaneously. I didn’t know my softness could be my strength.
I wasn’t at all ready for the feelings I’d have about being adopted and queer and raising a toddler who still isn’t as old as I was when I came to the United States on an airplane.
Cee, Beth, Aja, and KaeLyn share their daring tales of real-life homeownership and their solid advice to future homebuyers!
Where do you even start the journey of finding your dream home? Right here!
Welcome to the world, Remi!
Our Leo/Virgo cusp baby is definitely moving into Virgo territory.
It’s time and we’re ready-ish. Plus queer-friendly baby books, infant NFL jerseys, nightshade free living, and pregnancy acupuncture!
“I think you underestimate the amount of time I spend thinking about Remi.” – Waffle
I asked Waffle to curate a gallery of favorites from our very expansive dino-themed baby wardrobe. I didn’t have to ask twice.
Extreme itchy scratchies, body-positive parenting, fat pregnant femme feelings, nesting, dill pickles, Korean pancakes and more as I fly past the eight-month mark.
I started the 31st week of my pregnancy crying over the kitchen sink as I crammed my gestational diabetes breakfast into my mouth. It wasn’t the pregnancy hormones this time. It was the overwhelming grief and the sudden realization of what it means to be a parent.
Being an adoptee has made being pregnant all that much more strange and interesting.
“Sometimes I turn to Waffle and randomly exclaim, ‘This is happening!’ I should probably stop doing that as we get closer to, like, the possibility of me going into actual labor.”
There is no chance I’m going to evade the Cult of Mommy-ness. My undercut can’t save me.
I’m not a crier. I really resist the idea that hormones affect me, but pregnancy hormones affect me. OMG.