Katie Dohman
World's Okayest Mom
I remember a few things about my first day of kindergarten. My pleated, plaid wool skirt itched. My mom made me pin my bus schedule to my pink sweater vest. My teacher was Mrs. Seath, whom I immediately loved because she had long, curly black hair that she could whip into a braid, lightning fast, secured with a bright scrunchie. Even though I was an anxiety-ridden kid, I don’t recall being scared. I don’t know how my mom felt, but now I could hazard a guess, what with the aggressive... more
The things we grew
We planned on living in our current house forever. It’s midcentury modern, and has the elusive fourth bedroom. It’s in a great location — we can walk to a small grocery store when we’re out of coffee (a true emergency if there ever was one) — and there’s a splash pad across the street. Most notably, it was here that I started to... more
Waiting for Papa Yaya
It’s January 852nd, 2018. There’s a blizzard warning. Snow is flying sideways when my tulips should be coming up — Facebook Memories cruelly rubs it in when I check to see who else is whining about the weather.All the couch cushions are tossed haphazardly on the floor in a makeshift fort, toys flung... more
The art of chaos
This column — my debut in Minnesota Parent! — was turned in late. Here’s why: Working motherhood is kind of for the birds. I’m a freelance writer and have three kids under 5. I know. If you look up “total chaos” at Dictionary.com, my family’s photo is riiiiiight there. My 3-year-old, the middle kid, was going through the final... more