The Battle Cry of the Tigger Mom
How I Learned to Accept Parenting Imperfection
I would love nothing more than to know the surefire recipe for handing my child financial, creative and personal success. I would go to any lengths to guarantee he will be smarter, richer and stronger than I am, and that he may never know the sadness I have known.
What keeps my fears in check—and, my husband would say, what stops me from signing our son up for some fancy program we can in no way afford—is my work. I have been teaching memoir courses for the past seven years, and in that time, I have learned there is one secret for a fulfilling life: passion.
Among the people who have shared their stories with me are those who came from the bleakest, most brutal and deprived Dickensian childhoods imaginable; some are incredibly broken, and others have risen to become not only uber-successful, but also happy, loving people. There have been beautiful, talented others who were handed Ivy League educations and riches, yet have suffered greatly and spent lives in a shell of misery, not knowing what they want. And there are those whose lives have been blessed with fortune and happiness; still, they can't quell the insistent longing for something… else.
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