backwards and in high heels.

Edvard Munchian

On Privilege and Skin: Don’t avoid me—I genuinely want to talk

As most readers know, mine is a blended family. And while skin color is not my focus when going about my day-to-day life—when I’m praising and disciplining, wiping and nagging, feeding and doting and generally loving up on my kid—it would be a lie to say I don’t see skin color. I see it every [...]

Roller Derby Girls

I was in the kitchen, setting out the frosting and the jimmies for the cupcakes Ruby and I had just put in the oven, when I heard a couple of heavy thuds come from the front hallway. It was pouring rain, Sam was away for the weekend and my heart had already exploded into a [...]

C is for ‘crazy making’: If you’re enduring school-choice season, you’re not alone

Feb. 15 marks the last day that parents of children going into or already enrolled in the San Diego Unified School District (SDUSD) can apply for “school choice.” If you’re not a parent, you probably think this column doesn’t apply to you. But please. Don’t skip over to the medicinal-marijuana ads just yet. There’s valuable [...]

All hail Tweezerman. Now: What to do about this growing up business

After attending a kindergarten forum last night, Sam and I headed to our favorite neighborhood bar for some decompression. Wasn’t it just last week that we were bringing a baby home from Chicago? How is it possible we’re getting her ready to go to school? And is that really a gray eyebrow growing in above [...]

Uh…that was awkward

Ruby had already buckled herself into her car seat when she realized she’d forgotten the drawings for her teacher. I ignored the urge to say, too bad, kid. We’re late. Chalk it up to a lesson learned about having your shit together. (God, how I love my fantasy life.) Instead I channeled June Cleaver, set [...]

My punkin’ across time

THEN…

AND NOW…

And I finally weigh in on Anita Tedaldi

I’m late to the party but that’s because I’ve been mulling it over and doing a little background research.
Better late than never, though. So, I’ve begun over here.
There will be more.

Grateful

One comb out, a few tears, a great new stylist and 3-1/2 hours later (no, that’s not a typo), this is what her hair looks like.  She chose the “clicky-clackies” and her birthmother chose me.

Dear Busybodies:

She is my own and I am her real mother
*********************************************
The first night we met Ruby, she pooped in Sam’s hand. It was 11 p.m. in a rented apartment in Chicago. We were exhausted from an entire day of travel, preceded by two sleepless nights spent absorbing the holy-shit-we-have-a-kid realization that most people have nine months [...]

She is sixteen going on seventeen

I woke Ruby this morning, got her dressed and then told her that I needed to rinse her hair in the sink so that I could poof it out a bit. Revitalize it. She started to cry a really slow, dramatic cry and continued until we had her head turned upside down under the faucet. [...]

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