Crying Over Cake Fails

By Kate Kole

I made my parents a cake last month to celebrate their anniversary.

Everything was going well until the final step of transferring it to a rack to cool for 10 minutes and then removing it to finish cooling completely.

10 minutes somehow turned into an hour and a half as our baby had a blowout, requiring an outfit change and our weekly groceries were delivered, requiring what’s become a routine wipe down and put away process.

By the time I finally got around to cutting the cakes out of the pan, they weren’t cooperating. I started gently tapping the bottom of the 8-inch rounds before graduating to drumming on them as if I was forming my own kitchen band. Eventually, they began to crumble unevenly onto the plates I had set up on our counters.

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How Do I Teach My Daughter To Love Her Body When I’m Struggling To Do The Same?

By Kate Kole

I caught a glimpse of my tank top hugging my postpartum belly as I talked to my friend on FaceTime. Trying to ignore my dissatisfaction, I continued on with what I was saying.

It wasn’t until the next morning, with my stomach growling and my brain working to convince it that it wasn’t yet hungry, that I realized I was back to dealing with the same body image issues I’ve wrestled with since junior high. The ones I’ve believed on more than one occasion that I’ve beat.

They’re like a hair clogged drain. Each time I dump the Draino down, I’m confident that I’ve cleared it. But within a month, the water is pooling once again.

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Fill Up. Empty Out.

BY KATE KOLE

I became a fitness instructor and yoga teacher before I became a mom.

The trend towards self-care and inspirational Pinterest boards took off during my training tenure and I enthusiastically turned into a spokesperson for the popular social media proverb, “You can’t pour from an empty cup”.

I cringe a bit each time I recall the way I would readily offer that insight. After class, someone would share with me that it felt so nice to practice. That she knew she needed to do it more often. But between work, and family, and life, it was just hard to find the motivation, and space, and energy. I would nod. Understanding that of course, we all face obstacles. But she needed to take care of herself too, I’d say. Because how could she meaningfully show up for her work, and her people, and her life if she wasn’t tending to herself first? I posed the question rhetorically. Food for thought when she had the time to digest it.

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Only And Already

By Kate Kole

“She still needs you,” my husband said as I sat at the foot of our bed holding back tears.

We had just transitioned our 4-month-old daughter from her bassinet to her crib for the first time. I was completely caught off guard by the ugly cry threatening to escape me.

I had once again entered the land of only and already that has so often marked my journey through motherhood thus far.

He’s only crawling. He’s already crawling. He’s only two. He’s already two. She’s only sleeping in her own room. She’s already sleeping in her own room.

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The Art and Sadness of “Getting Through”

By De Elizabeth

In high school, I referred to them as “Dread Days.” They were, quite simply, days that provoked the feeling of dread, for reasons entirely appropriate in a 14-year-old’s world: science lab with the girl who bullied me in elementary school, a history class presentation where I was underprepared and my crush sat in the first row, having to complete my volunteer shift at the library instead of spending an afternoon with my friends.

Initially, I only used the phrase in my head silently, but eventually started labeling them in my planner with two D’s, written as tiny as possible and in purple ink. In the days leading up to a Dread Day, I’d have a pit in my stomach, knowing that whatever fun I was having in the moment would soon be overshadowed by the knowledge that something unpleasant would take its place. On the morning of a Dread Day, I’d repeat to myself: Just get through it; just get through. When the day was over, I’d cross off the “DD” in my planner, feeling a sense of overwhelming relief.

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You’re Allowed to Be Sad

By De Elizabeth

I went for a drive the other day without an actual destination. It was a 25-minute car ride, taking loops through familiar streets, passing deserted parking lots, dark windows, empty playgrounds. My toddler sat in her car seat behind me, every once in a while asking: Where are we going? Every time I’d answer, Just for a drive.

Towards the end of the trip, we passed an ice cream shop we’ve been to a couple of times. Like many other establishments right now, it was closed, windows shuttered, without its usual inviting neon signs. I found myself thinking back to last summer, sitting on those wooden steps, choosing not to care that my 2-year-old was getting ice cream all over her face and clothes. I took a picture of her chocolate-stained cheeks and hands; a printed copy is taped into her baby memory book, a snapshot of Before All Of This.

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Are You Better Now?

By De Elizabeth

CW: The following talks about eating disorders & restricting behaviors.

The first time I heard about National Eating Disorders Awareness Week was in college; I passed a sign in the dining hall that showed a picture of a girl probably around my age holding a piece of fruit. Across the poster, in big letters: “What does an eating disorder look like?” As I methodically put things on my plate, taking twice as long than everyone else because I was terrified to eat anything at this point, I remember thinking: This, it just looks like this. 

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The Day I Lost My Chill

By Kate Kole

36 weeks + 6 days pregnant. That’s when I officially lost my chill.

It wasn’t as if things started off in an Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day kind of way. In fact, if you’d seen me just an hour earlier you might have assumed that I had it all together.

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What We Mean When We Say We Have “Mom Brain”

By De Elizabeth

I forget to do things all the time these days.

Sometimes they’re small things: I forgot to move the laundry to the dryer or I forgot to answer a text. Other times, they’re a little more significant: a work email that’s sitting in my draft folder, an invoice I need to send, the paperwork from my accountant for tax season. I’ll remember at inconvenient times: driving on the highway, brushing my teeth before bed, or while trying to fall asleep. Oops, I’ll think. I’ll do it tomorrow.

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