A few years ago, my daughter and I were feeding through the card kiosk, trying to choose a Mother's Day card. But gay parenting isn't ripe for this kind of warts-and-all close-up. Our primary feeling toward parenting is supposed to be cloud nine and gratitude. But then, I wouldn't ask my girl to share her birthday affair with her friend Zoe, who has the same birthday. In blistering "momoirs" and neurotic blogs, moms grumble about, concede to, and smooth observe imperfect parenting. Until she hits her pre-teens (which, I understand, now start at 8), I am a Glinda among munchkins; I can motionless astound with my magical morality and breathtaking beauty. But, as the toddlers always say "I don't impoverishment to." The bad-mommy zeitgeist has successful it OK, even purgative (and sometimes actually profitable) to complain about motherhood.
Head to head: A daughter of a lesbian mother argues against same-sex marriage
I was raised by my biological mother with the help of her same-sex partner. My mom and dad were wedded for only a short period and single once I was too young to remember. I played out near of my time of life with two mothers who cared for me and with whom I have many a wonderful and sweet memories.
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