Mandy Hitchcock

Motherhood. Loss. Authenticity. Resilience.

Category

Motherhood

Loving the Sweet and the Sour

It’s Day 10 of NaBloPoMo, and the last several days have been a tad heavy, and I’m feeling a little tapped out. So I’m going to let my precious youngest daughter deliver a little life metaphor for you. Here she… Continue Reading →

Why I’m Breaking My Number One Child Sleep Rule

I lie next to my four-year-old son in his full-sized bed. He’s facing away from me, and my arm drapes over his shoulder. If he were bigger, I’d say we’re spooning, but his legs are still far too short for… Continue Reading →

I Don’t Want to Leave Any Marks

My small daughter stood anchored to the floor in her footed pajamas, glancing uncertainly first at me and then towards the bedroom door, in which direction her older brother had just run at breakneck speed. Her round little face was… Continue Reading →

“Jimmy Kimmel, You’re Fired. No, Wait, I’m Just Kidding!”

Imagine a worst possible moment in your adult life. “I slept with your husband.” “I had an affair with your best friend.” “Sweetie, I cheated on your dad, and we’re getting divorced. I’m so sorry.” Already, you’re having a pretty… Continue Reading →

The Glitter Situation

This afternoon, I trekked out into the rain to check out the after-Halloween sales at Target. My kids love imaginary play of all kinds, but somehow we’ve gotten seven years into parenting without ever collecting any dress-up clothes. I hoped… Continue Reading →

Facing Forward

At the age of four years, three months, and ten days, my son Jackson finally got to ride in a forward-facing car seat. I’ve been a long-time and vocal proponent of extended rear-facing for kids in cars. Well before the… Continue Reading →

The Age of Innocence

The young woman sat bolt upright, her chest supporting the lolling, bald head of the tiny infant wrapped against her chest in layer upon layer of soft, navy fabric. A piece of quiche sat in a to-go box on the… Continue Reading →

It’s My Job To Raise Children Who Are Not Only Not Racist But Actively Anti-Racist

Eight: the number of Southern black churches that have burned in the last ten days. Nine: the number of black bodies gunned down in church by a young white male racist two weeks ago today. Countless: the number of unarmed… Continue Reading →

Seeing My Kids With Fresh Eyes

“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” My son shouted the word over and over again as he ran across the porch of his preschool towards me. Sometimes, this incessant repetition will provoke an automatic biological response that many mothers know well: stomach… Continue Reading →

I Love You Just The Way You Are

My youngest daughter Ada is eighteen months old. She’s so different from her older two siblings, who are so like each other in so many ways. She was a high-strung infant where they were easygoing. She cries and gets upset… Continue Reading →

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