three four beautiful children, a loving husband, and, until recently, had a dirty little secret. After the birth of my third child, I suffered from postpartum depression. I hid it from all but a handful of people, even managing to fool myself for awhile. I now realize there’s no reason to hide when dealing with postpartum. And I’m starting to realize that there’s really no ‘getting over’ postpartum. The meaning of motherhood is forever altered. And that’s what I hope to explore with this blog.
And while I do love food, no, this is not a blog about food. Though, it does provide seemingly endless possibilities for metaphor. So I suppose it does factor in – when chopping potatoes, eating saltines, baking whoopee pies . . . Read Chopping Potatoes for an explanation of how the blog got its name.