Tag Archives: motherhood

Breastfeeding My Babies

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Breakfast in Central Park, May 1998

Yesterday I was reading something that reminded me how much I loved breastfeeding. I’ve been meaning to write about it for years, and I keep forgetting. It’s one of the best things–if not the best thing–I’ve ever done. Talk about having a purpose! My very body was keeping this brand-new little human alive and thriving. Continue reading

Writing Prompt 1984: Paquette and the Nazis

This post doesn’t live here anymore. It emigrated to my other blog:

The Big No-No:  An Outsider on American Fascism,

where it resides under the title:

“Paquette and the Nazis: or: Books and Babies, the Stuff of Nightmares”