Post Traumatic Stress

Hello, my name is Finn. I would like to lick your feet, eat some sticks and poop on your floor.  I have a new baby in the house. As such, I’ve been getting up at the crack of dawn, adhering to feeding and pooping schedules and wearing a lot of sweatpants. I’ve also been strugglingRead more…

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there will be blood

I didn’t go into parenting with the intention of becoming the breaker of hearts. To be the dasher of young dreams. But it seems it’s a role I am destined to play. Take yesterday for example: I was lying on my bed working Grey Gardens-style — with my laptop, assorted papers, reading glasses and KindleRead more…

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