Before I had my daughter, I thought motherhood was a filter. I thought you applied it to your life and suddenly everything was softer, warmer, saturated with purpose. I would watch other women push strollers and think they were living inside a lifestyle blog. I didn’t see the crusted Cheerio stuck to the jogger’s wheel. I didn’t see the dark circles under the sunglasses.
Carr’s voice contributes to the broader mission of , which serves as a resource for creative and thinking parents who feel their experiences fall outside traditional "Leave it to Beaver" narratives. By sharing authentic stories about reproductive justice, mental health, and the daily "drudgery" of caregiving, she helps build what she describes as a "movement" of relatable motherhood. Allison Carr, Author at Mutha Magazine allison carr mutha magazine
I look at the puzzle on the floor. Jupiter is missing. We lost it weeks ago, likely swept under the fridge or eaten by the dog. My son doesn't care that Jupiter is gone. He points to the empty space and says, "Dark." Before I had my daughter, I thought motherhood was a filter
By Allison Carr
But she was right, and she wasn’t. She wasn’t sad in that photo. She was furious. And I was exhausted. And the two feelings had occupied the same square inch of our kitchen floor. Mutha readers know this space. It’s the space where the pristine fantasy of motherhood—the one sold to us in the glossy magazines at the pediatrician’s office—goes to die. It is replaced by something rawer, funnier, and infinitely more true. I didn’t see the crusted Cheerio stuck to
Her piece "Your MUTHA is a Witch" explores the intersection of religion, personal magic, and parenting.