Yesterday morning, early (around 3 am), I woke from a fitful sleep and started doomscrolling. Everything is awful, of course. The wildfires in California, another Black man shot by police in Wisconsin in broad daylight in front of his three kids, twin hurricanes headed to the Gulf Coast, the Trump-led war on democracy, and the…
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The other day I read somewhere that 43 is the median age in the United States. I turned 43 a couple weeks ago, so this statistic stood out to me — I’m exactly in the middle! Perfectly middle-aged! — but when I Googled the statistic to link to it in this post, all I found…
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I first noticed it shortly after Joanie was born. As is typical of the postpartum period, my hair started falling out right when my baby turned four months old. I remembered it when Jackson was a baby, too, and the women in my new moms group all talked about this unpleasant side effect of new…
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Me, with my family, on my 40th birthday and on Jackson’s first day of kindergarten. The topic of aging is probably not too far from most of our minds on any given week. How could it not be when we are bombarded with societal messages, from advertisements to doctors’ advice, about getting older and how…
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The following essay is a guest post written by Emily Morris, whose previous guest essays can be read here, here,here, and here. I was twenty-five when I went to the no-kill cat shelter in town and met the cat who lived in the office there. He had been there for a year, and the first…
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