Confessions of a Pothead Mom
This is not easy to write about.
First off, I’m worried that readers are going to question my parenting and that I should prepare myself for a visit from Child Protection Services.
Secondly, there is my family, some of whom know me very well and others who might find this completely shocking. Not to mention my immediate family and, yes, my children, who might catch some ricocheting flak.
Lastly, there is my career. Even though I am only writing about a small part of my life, for a small part of the time, it could affect ALL of my professional life and have lasting implications.
Let’s face it: My use of the word “pothead” probably dropped my IQ in your mind by several points. Despite compelling research that suggests marijuana has no lasting negative effects on brain function, unlike alcohol or tobacco, it still conjures up images of potato chips and sweatpants, struggling to get off the couch at 2 in the afternoon. And I’m a little concerned that everyone I encounter from now on, personally or professionally, will be asking themselves if I’m stoned at that very moment.
But someone has to start talking about it, and I’ve never been one to choose the easy way. Read more
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