Too many times I’d left him reaching for me, from a babysitter’s arms. “Am I still a mother?” I asked myself… What parts of the day could I cut out and still give him enough? Paul never asked himself that. He thought he was a great dad.

Too many times I’d left him reaching for me, from a babysitter’s arms. “Am I still a mother?” I asked myself… What parts of the day could I cut out and still give him enough? Paul never asked himself that. He thought he was a great dad.

– Mona Simpson –

My Hollywood

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