“Work the kid into your life, don’t change your life to be the kid’s,” said my friend Tom between laps at Westside Aquatic Center. It was 2008, I was very pregnant, and struggling to keep any kind of pace beyond simple flotation.
Not knowing any better, I took Tom seriously.
I’m what is referred to, politely, as a non-traditional mom. I take HB to a big girl lunch every Saturday; on St. Patty’s Day we actually bar hopped. She has her own season ticket for Clemson football. She sings Lady Gaga. She’s three and four on her birthday so she has three tutus, four pairs of sparkly shoes, and two princess dresses, all of which I allow her to wear to school whenever she wants.
