Hand me the wrench

Yesterday, sitting in the viewing area of my children’s swim lessons, I watched a child in front of me climb under their folding chair and lie on their back. They seemed to study the underside of the chair, touching the screws at its corners, frowning. Mom, they said after a few minutes of this, not…

Happy birthday

My firstborn is five today. That’s five years of perpetual wakefulness and chatter; five years of emptying breasts and filling water bottles; five years of viruses rolling through the household and Legos rolling underfoot; five years of making the coffee one-handed; five years of screaming and tears—theirs and mine—when the structure breaks or the story…

Imaginary friends

My second born has an imaginary friend who terrifies my sister. His name is Gongo, and they (Gongo and my child) met in the grocery store, where Gongo apparently approached and asked to be taken home. Over time, Gongo has inhabited many forms, and this is what terrifies my sister. He can be large or…

At least It’s not a horse’s head?

A few nights back, I rolled over in bed to find that my partner’s hip had splintered into several hard, individual pieces. The sleep deprivation has us both aging rapidly, but this came as a bit of a shock. I pulled out the splinters and put them on the floor next to the bed. Because…


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About Me

I’m Kelsey. I am a queer cis woman, a feminist, a child clinical psychologist, and a parent.

I have one doctorate (in child clinical psychology), two half-feral babies (well, one’s three now), and almost no answers to my own real-life parenting problems.

I’m here to document the humbling disasters and unexpected joys of parenthood–because even a decade of training can’t prepare a person for this business.

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