All right, real talk: When's the last time you heard a parent refer to their kid as their "whoops, we forgot to use protection" child? What about their "it took a lot of help from doctors to make this happen" child?

No one talks like that! (OK, other than in a Judd Apatow comedy.) They'd sound ridiculous. Your kids are your kids — regardless of how they became a part of your family. Why do we so often forget to apply that understanding to children who've been adopted?

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You've just been through the most physically demanding and life-altering event you'll ever experience. You have been stretched, pushed, pulled, and ravaged in seemingly superhuman ways to bring your baby into the world. Your altered body prepares to feed and slowly begins to heal, causing your hormones to ricochet through you like pinballs.

And on top of all of that, you are suddenly thrust into an entirely new role, a tiny life placed in your full-time care—a life that doesn't sleep regularly and requires specific methods of feeding every few hours around the clock.

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'Love is a battlefield' indeed. They say you have to kiss ~~at least~~ a few frogs to find your prince and it's inevitable that in seeking long-term romantic satisfaction, slip ups will happen. Whether it's a lack of compatibility, unfortunate circumstances, or straight up bad taste in the desired sex, your first shot at monogamous bliss might not succeed. And that's okay! Those experiences enrich our lives and strengthen our resolve to find love. That's what I tell myself when trying to rationalize my three-month stint with the bassist of a terrible noise rock band.


One woman's viral tweet about a tacky mug wall encouraged people to share stories about second loves. Okay, first things first: Ana Stanowick's mom has a new boyfriend who's basically perfect. All the evidence you need is in the photograph:

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The second week of first grade, my 6-year-old son came home and told me, very seriously, "Mama, I have a girlfriend, and I love her."

I didn't laugh at him or tell him he is too young to have a girlfriend, and I didn't minimize his feelings. We had a very serious conversation about his girlfriend: what he likes about her, what they talk about at lunch, and what games they play on the playground at recess. I asked questions about her; some he knew the answers to, and some he didn't.

Nearly every day after that for some time, we talked about his girlfriend, and in every conversation, in some way, we talked about consent — what it means, what it looks like, and how I expect him to act.

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