All I needed to do was cut perfect squares of fabric and sew those perfect squares to each other. 

I, as the metaphorical chef here, have metaphorically been binge-watching a lot of metaphorical Beat Bobby Flay.

The hacks are haunting me.

This is what 16 years of Catholic schooling hath wrought.

Have so much fun.

With the butts gone, I can see that the majority of Paige’s pictures are actually of June’s face.

It’s not a vacation, it’s a slow-motion train wreck that will make us some memories.

Because sometimes, a sprig survives the winter.

Full of dread, you grab the kids (they’ve been in their swimsuits for hours), pile into the car, and head to the pool.

In Real Simple houses, blankets are neatly folded or artistically piled on unstained sofas. Your sofa has pencil illustrations, marker streaks, and blood stains.

It’s not that I didn’t want our fourth. I just wanted to know that my husband and I weren’t the only ones who thought 4 > 3

I could sand down every rough edge on my body but I’d still be taking up space.

Alternate title: WHY ARE THEY LIKE THIS?

After all, it was true. Whatever our hearts said, whatever we’d been through, we were not legally their parents. And when it comes to paperwork, legality is the whole point.

I can’t help but fast-forward to high school competitions where she’ll be, I guess, slathering herself with fake tanner, donning a 5-pound curly wig, and dousing herself so thoroughly in gender norms that the stain will never come out.