I will not, I promised, be one of those mothers. I won’t read all of the books. Stress out about phthalates in my shampoo, pesticides in my creamer. BPA in my takeout Chinese container. I won’t ever, not once, stand in the grocery store, talking loudly to my child, hoping everyone hears how understanding I am, how close we are, as if parenting is a fucking piece of performance art. I won’t become a different person.
