Reader Laurie left a comment on the open thread earlier this week, and I wanted to bump it up to a full post so more people would see it. She raises a question many of us ask: I have a friend who is struggling with what to tell her 3 year old about not having […]
First, I’m still accepting posts for the Freedom to Marry blogswarm. Submit your link here. Second, because it’s a celebratory week here in the LGBT blogosphere, Robin at The Other Mother is kicking off a carnival today at her place, on the theme, “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.” Here’s my contribution for
(Originally published in Bay Windows, September 11, 2008.) It’s back-to-school time, when we LGBT parents face the dual challenges of getting our children in an academic frame of mind and readying all of us to face a new batch of questions about our families. My own son is about to start kindergarten, and I’m trying
The gay-straight alliance at one of the high schools in our area was sponsoring a showing of Love Makes a Family, the great traveling exhibit of photographs and interviews featuring LGBT families. Yesterday, the exhibit was open to the public. Even though I’d seen it before, I took my son after preschool.
Fifty years ago today, Ole Kirk Christansen received approval for his patent of the original LEGO brick, as Boing Boing reminds us. We’re huge fans of the plastic pieces around our house. LEGOs were one of the formative toys of my childhood, especially after my brother brought home several paper grocery bags full of them
I really don’t want to be writing about sperm again. Some won’t stop, however, and so I find myself once again turning to matters seminal to clear up some misconceptions about donor-conceived children.
I don’t identify as butch, despite a predilection for sports and an aversion to high heels. I prefer to think of myself as a middle-of-the road sort of gal, although I did femme it up a bit when working in the corporate world. At five feet tall, I found it paid to make an effort
Having just undergone the thrill of bringing my son to his four-year-old physical (complete with three injections), I offer you my list of ways to pass the interminable time between when the nurse shows you in and the doctor shows up. My preference, because I’m one of those who doesn’t carry a handbag and my
I’m writing to you today as an official resident of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, where the clams are tasty, the gays can marry, and the Red Sox . . . well, ask me again at the end of the season. Thanks to the scheduling savvy of my sweetie and the heroic efforts of John the
