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Ostrich parenting and when mental illness and addiction are in your gene pool

I recently received a few emails from some people who took issue with my birthday post to my daughter. I believe their point was that I was, oh, full of myself and a wretched excuse for a human being who doesn’t deserve her children, or something like that.

Why? Because I stated that I wasn’t too sure about having a girl when I got one.

Now, I could take issue with that and be all defensive, or I could just realize that most of you have better things to do with your time than read through 3 1/2 years of archives to figure out what the hell I’m talking about, and in all fairness, I can almost see their point. Starting the Happy Birthday post with “Yeah, not so excited at first” could come off as the slightest bit horrendous, I guess, if you don’t know the history (and you don’t bother to read the rest of the post. Bygones.)

So maybe I should cover that history for a second. Just a second, I swear.