Rage enveloped me in my mother’s womb. It bathed me in amniotic fluid that permeated my cells, and developed who I was about to become. The origin of this rage could have evolved from my mother’s life events.My mother from Japan, who immigrated to America a decade after WWII ended. Whose legs carried her as she and her family ran from their house after it was bombed and burned to the ground, barely making it out alive. Whose eyes witnessed the horrors of war, when her city of Osaka was burning.Read More
My firstborn was a seven pound preemie. He was born at 35 ½ weeks, so he just barely qualified for the moniker. I only use it in air quotes, out of respect for the mothers of what I call real preemies.Read More
At seventeen, I was unsure of myself as a young woman who had just graduated high school, realizing that it was time to be a grown up and to add insult to injury, becoming a mother in a time when the internet was just jumping on the chastise-mothers-for-everything bandwagon.Read More
When I became a mom I became many things -protector, guide, teacher, and emotional support, to name a few. I am also slowly becoming someone I don't recognize or like. As a mother I have transformed in ways more powerful than I ever imagined. Including transforming me into someone I didn't think I would become.Read More
It’s just a shame that some women choose to formula feed.
Everyone knows breast milk is best for babies! They are smarter and healthier-
Less likely to be obese!
I can always tell the difference between babies who are breastfed and formula fed-
They stop suddenly as I walk through the door, unsure whether or not I, the as-far-as-I-know-it only mom who formula feeds her baby, had overheard their conversation.Read More
"I'm so excited mama!" Exclaims my 3 year old son, after an exhausting day of shopping. "I'm so excited for Christmas."
These words bring a flood of thoughts to my mind. Being a Muslim American, this is the first time I will have to explain to him the Muslim perspective on the most prominent display of religion in the U.S., Christmas.Read More
I remember lying under the church pew as a child.
“How much longer?” I would loudly whisper to my mother, my 7-year-old self never knowing how to wait.
“Not long,” she would answer, her faithful, copper brown eyes never losing focus. Her attention was glued to the altar. She was an Episcopalian to the core. And, meanwhile, I couldn’t even pronounce the word.Read More