She says,

I hate myself for the way I feel, but whatever it is that makes a mum want to hug and kiss her child, I have not felt it. Catherine has always felt like someone else's daughter.

Price also says Catherine felt "dirty" to her when she was a newborn, and that she wouldn't let Catherine call her "Mum" for several years. Making matters worse, in a way, is the fact that Shelley does love her two-year-old daughter, Poppy, whom she calls "the love of my life." Price doesn't remember when Catherine got her first tooth or said her first word, "even though I can recall all those stages for Poppy without thinking." And she says, "if I give Poppy a cuddle, it feels different to hugging Catherine."

The Daily Mail bills Price's feelings as "one of the great taboos of motherhood," but the truth is plenty of women have ambivalent or even negative feelings about their kids. However, the person to share those feelings with is a friend, a partner, or a therapist — not a Daily Mail reporter. Price says, "I'm speaking out because I'm convinced I'm not alone," but there are plenty of ways to help other parents without telling the world that you don't love your kid (the Daily Mail deserves some blame here too, especially for running Catherine's picture with the caption "Shelley and her 11-year-old daughter Catherine who she 'doesn't love'"). At best, Shelley Price has extremely bad judgment, and at worst, she's a fame-whore. Catherine will probably realize this at some point, but we're not sure it will be much consolation.

It's a confession few mothers would ever make. But here, one woman asks... So why can't I LOVE my own daughter? [Daily Mail]

I will try to keep this as short and sweet as possible before I go off and live out every girl's childhood dream of watching Mommie Dearest while knitting in their underwear (otherwise known as "unemployment"). Don't worry about me though, a young man from Nigeria has contacted me about an exciting business opportunity! You see, his billionaire brother needs an American to hold onto some of his money for a few months, and I'll be able to keep a few million dollars for myself. All I have to do is send him all of my personal information and bank account numbers. Seems like a good deal to me.

Anyways, I want to thank all of the wonderful women I have worked with at Jezebel. I am still dumbfounded as to how I successfully tricked Anna into hiring me to work with such a talented and hilarious group of women. Moe, Dodai, Megan, Jessica, Sadie, Tracie, Jennifer and (especially) Anna are some of the most intelligent and patient people I have ever worked with. Also, Margaret, Katy and Cheryl are some of the best and hardworking interns floating around the blogosphere. I am really proud to have worked at Jezebel and see it develop over the past year and a half.

I would also like to give a special "thx" to the dark overlord, Nick Denton, for occasionally remembering to give me money. Even though that time has come to an end, it was fun while it lasted.

I want to give all of the commenters and readers a quick shout-out for being so funny and (usually) showing me support. Thanks for always keeping me on my toes.

Bye!

Voigt, who was above a size 28 before her gastric bypass, said, "My mom had always fought with her weight, been on one diet or another. She had self-esteem issues around her weight. We were constantly going on diets. She'd say, 'You need to take some weight off.' I felt very self-conscious." My mom was always good about not commenting on my weight, but I do remember her maligning her own looks as nothing special on several occasions. The rub? My my mom and I look almost identical. Can you pinpoint any "fat ballerina" moments from your traumatic childhoods?

You're The Fattest Ballerina [CNN via O: Oprah Magazine]

Earlier: Opera Singer Is Rehired After She Loses Over 100 Pounds Through Gastric Bypass

For those who haven't read it (and you should!) Karr's Liars Club paints a beautifully-grueling picture of her childhood in East Texas, growing up with a pair of mostly well-meaning alcoholic parents. During the course of the book, Mary's creative and charming (though not exactly warm and fuzzy) mother Charlie suffers two nervous breakdowns, and ends up leaving Mary and her sister Lecia alone in Colorado for weeks at a time while she runs off to Mexico, gets addicted to diet pills, and drinks thousands of Mason jars full of rot gut vodka.

Perhaps the most moving part of The Liar's Club is when Mary and Lecia watch their mother set fire to most of their worldly possessions in a makeshift driveway pyre. Included in the detritus is Mary's rocking horse.

That's my horse getting doused by the upended gas can. I knot my arms in front of my chest and think how I wanted to keep that horse for bouncing. It's supposed to be a baby toy, but some days when Lecia's out, I ride it with springs screeching and close my eyes and picture myself galloping across a wide prairie. Now that horse looks at me blank-eyed and tired. I scan around for a rock or a two-by-four to conk mother on the head with. But Lecia's hands won't let go my shoulders. She could be watching the weather on TV for all the feeling her face shows. I tell her that's my horse Mother's messing with. But she's bored with this complaint. So I let it go. Bye-bye, old Paint, I think to myself, I'm a-leaving Cheyenne

'M' Is For The Mania, Manipulation And Magic [New York Times]
Her Last Death [Amazon]
A Scrappy Little Beast [Salon]

Earlier: Island Of The Blue Dolphins: I'm A Cormorant And I Don't Care

Related:
The Liar's Club: A Memoir [Amazon]

[East Hampton, N.Y.; August 4. Image via Splash]