Your writing is like an oasis. Now that my girls are 12, I tell them about the lack of sleep, the anxiety, the fears for the future, the loss of identity - alongside all these great memories on Google Photos. I sometimes feel I’m a stranger in my own life. The guy who looks wistfully on while others are doing solo holidays, reading in cafes, biking across continents, laughing with friends in a bar, hiking quiet trails. And yet I wouldnt be anywhere else.
Love this. Just today I had a moment of bliss and realization holding my 4-year-old's hand. I saw the two of us, decades from now, holding hands (I hope he'll still want to hold my hand decades from now). Anyways, I'm an avid reader of motherhood memoirs and I highly recommend Jazmina Barrera's "Linea Nigra". Thank you for what you do, Kevin!
Thank you for this. As an avid reader - including of what you call Mum memoirs, I often wonder what dads would make of them. So pleased you’re recommending these books as amazing pieces of writing and also amazing insight from a mother’s perspective - much of which might resonate with fathers. In this vein, I’d recommend Prophet Song, Soldier Sailor and Night Bitch too.
Mom reader here. My daughter is turning 3 in a few months, and yet the baby phase seems like it was so long ago. It lasted such a short time, but when I was in the thick of it, it felt like it would last forever. I had a rough transition to motherhood, even though I waited until I was in my thirties to do it. The passage about screaming into a blanket really hit me. I never want my daughter to know that I struggled with adapting to having her in my life, but at the same time, I want to be realistic with her. I feel like parenting is such a balancing act and I'm always right about to fall off the tightrope.
This is so, so good. I love how you captured the idea that parenthood, at its core, reshapes both of us, even if society’s scripts have told a different story for a very long time.
And that last line—“the raw, unfiltered experience of caring so much it hurts.” Beautiful! Maybe that’s the real perch—the moment we stop intellectualizing it all and actually step into the ache and awe of it.
Your writing is like an oasis. Now that my girls are 12, I tell them about the lack of sleep, the anxiety, the fears for the future, the loss of identity - alongside all these great memories on Google Photos. I sometimes feel I’m a stranger in my own life. The guy who looks wistfully on while others are doing solo holidays, reading in cafes, biking across continents, laughing with friends in a bar, hiking quiet trails. And yet I wouldnt be anywhere else.
Love this. Just today I had a moment of bliss and realization holding my 4-year-old's hand. I saw the two of us, decades from now, holding hands (I hope he'll still want to hold my hand decades from now). Anyways, I'm an avid reader of motherhood memoirs and I highly recommend Jazmina Barrera's "Linea Nigra". Thank you for what you do, Kevin!
Thank you for this. As an avid reader - including of what you call Mum memoirs, I often wonder what dads would make of them. So pleased you’re recommending these books as amazing pieces of writing and also amazing insight from a mother’s perspective - much of which might resonate with fathers. In this vein, I’d recommend Prophet Song, Soldier Sailor and Night Bitch too.
Mom reader here. My daughter is turning 3 in a few months, and yet the baby phase seems like it was so long ago. It lasted such a short time, but when I was in the thick of it, it felt like it would last forever. I had a rough transition to motherhood, even though I waited until I was in my thirties to do it. The passage about screaming into a blanket really hit me. I never want my daughter to know that I struggled with adapting to having her in my life, but at the same time, I want to be realistic with her. I feel like parenting is such a balancing act and I'm always right about to fall off the tightrope.
This is so, so good. I love how you captured the idea that parenthood, at its core, reshapes both of us, even if society’s scripts have told a different story for a very long time.
And that last line—“the raw, unfiltered experience of caring so much it hurts.” Beautiful! Maybe that’s the real perch—the moment we stop intellectualizing it all and actually step into the ache and awe of it.