Growing up Poor in a Decade of Prosperity — The Tamagotchi next to me is yelling at me. It has already been fed, cleaned, and played with this morning. I don’t know what else it wants. I suppose I could discipline it, one of the only actions I haven’t attempted yet. It seems draconian though, and I hesitate to…

First of all, my name is not actually Naleen Mitchell. It’s Naleen Mitchell Porreco. But I wasn’t sure what I was doing when I set up this account and thought maybe it could serve as a pseudonym if I wanted to go that route. …

And so begins the season of feigned generosity — It’s that time of year again when everyone pretends to care about poor kids. Boxes are set out in businesses, lined with beautiful gift wrap, bold signage imploring shoppers to spend money to help those less fortunate. In theory, this is great. Buying presents for kids is kind and generous…

No, it’s not just stress. — I knew the moment I woke up what was happening, even as I tried to deny it and maintain my usual energy levels. I stumbled out of bed at the beckoning voices and petty squabbles of my 5-year-old twins, determined to use the force of sheer willpower to rid myself…

Here’s to no nightmares and lots more fun in the future! — My daughter’s jaw slowly lowers in horror. Her eyes widen, and she jerks her hands to her face, keeping her fingers splayed open to shield herself from and still see the violence happening in front of her. I am holding my breath, wondering how this will all play out and…

Even in online settings. *Also- it’s mostly men. Some women do this too. But I need to add the caveat because enough men have complained about being singled out that I don’t want to further contribute to their tears. — I have been hemming and hawing over this piece for quite some time. I don’t want to come across as thin-skinned, a constant complainer, hysterical, shrill, or any other sexist interpretation lobbed at women who have the audacity to speak out.

Shedding cynicism for a few hours to embrace some joy. — It took an astronomical amount of planning to get to the show. Tickets had to be procured- not an easy feat for someone as out-of-tune to all the hip happenings as me. An overnight babysitter was arranged. Negotiations ensued over rates and hours. More negotiations with the children who cried…

What the hell is happening to me? — I’ve been reaching some excruciating milestones lately. Like the one where my hairdresser politely pointed out that only 3% of my hair has gone gray so far and would I like some touch-ups to my roots to cover it? …

A satirical rant about the most asinine thing I’ve read about in a long time. — It’s that time of year again. The annual chance to clutch at pearls, untwist our twisted-up knickers, and gasp in shock at the moral disarray of this country. Every rainbow flag, every “love is love is love” t-shirt, and every man holding the hand of another (OMG) man, is a…