Life gets in the way. That’s what my midwife says when I explain how we missed our son’s nap window because we stayed at the restaurant five minutes too late having dessert, or when the fire alarm goes off and wakes the baby an hour and a half after bedtime. We are sleep training (have been for what seems ages), and my midwife holds my feet to the fire. Except that sometime, she says, life gets in the way.
Such is the case with Mother Sugar. Continue reading
Flapper pie told me to join a mommy group. I resisted. It’s hard to explain why. I guess I’ve always secretly liked to consider myself slightly out of the mainstream, slightly left or right of center. When I was a … Continue reading
When I was a teenager, I desperately wanted to be a hippie. I burned to stand against war and injustice, to march in protests and go to sit-ins. But when I was that age, there didn’t seem to be a … Continue reading
Years ago, I went on a date with a diabetic. This was during a time in my life when I was convinced that I would never, ever again meet someone I could possibly love, let alone spend the rest of my life with. I was 29 or so and in the thick of dealing with my body going awry and watching what I perceived as every single person I knew getting engaged or married, and so I went on a date with a man who asked me out on — if you can even recall such a time — Friendster. He claimed to be like Josh Lyman from The West Wing, and that meant a whole lot to me in those days. Continue reading
February’s Salon question had to do with the heart: how we decide who gets in, how far in we allow them, and what happens when the right or wrong person gets there. Continue reading
This week has been a little quieter than usual here at Mother Sugar. We would normally be sharing a post from Bitter en Zoet, one of our best loved contributors. Instead, we are grateful and very happy to announce that Bitter en Zoet recently gave birth to a healthy and beautiful child. Continue reading
I’m not quite sure where to begin this post, as I’ve started it now about a hundred times in as many different ways, so I’ll simply get right to it. It’s superfluous to say that what has happened in Newtown, Connecticut, this past week has thoroughly horrified me, and has prompted more tears than I’ve shed in a very long time. The whole ordeal is both beyond words (so many fall so short and then make me cringe) and, I think, (simultaneously, contradictorily) demanding of words. To say the very, very least, it is confusing. Continue reading
These days when I leave the house, I take the refrigerator with me. For a three-hour-long journey, I pack two peanut-butter sandwiches, two yogurts, an apple, two oranges, crackers, water and ginger ale. For a shorter trip—to the bank, let’s … Continue reading
The Barbie doll was blond, just like Jacqui (not her real name) who had been our friend. And blond like the girl in Heathers who died after being tricked into drinking Drano. In the movie, that blond girl is found lying on her bed with blue lips, her hair spread out on a pillow. We’d all watched the movie obsessively at a sleepover and started styling ourselves as thirteen-year-old versions of the various Heathers. They were popular, beautiful and cruel; the villains. And yet, they were the ones we wanted to be like. Continue reading
In case you missed it, there’s a new feature here at Mother Sugar called, The Salon: What You Know For Sure. Every month we’ll be asking a new question and inviting all of you to respond. Big or small, long or short, send us your memories and we’ll share ours. Today’s post draws on this month’s theme:
This post started though before we decided to invite you for tea and cake in the Salon. Continue reading
Mother Sugar 