After ten long months of being pregnant with my first child Henry, I literally could not wait to meet him.
Actually, I don’t know if it was that I couldn’t wait to meet him or that I couldn’t wait for him to evacuate the premises.
I am not a good pregnant person. I gain a ton of weight, swell up kind of like the Hulk and complain ALL.DAY.LONG about the fact that I am angry, hot, sweaty and have somehow busted out four pairs of flip flops in one week.
This is a “sort of” apology to my husband for having to endure my pregnancy madness twice.… CONTINUE READING
Every article I see lately is about how it is the job of the mom to make Christmas magical for her kids.
You know what I have to say about that nonsense? RUDE.
Disclaimer: I am not trying to sound like a Scrooge here, but why does Christmas have to include so much pressure? Can’t we just enjoy it? I don’t think when Baby Jesus was born that Mary surprised him with a brand new donkey and an Elf on the Shelf. I think she snuggled her sweet baby and hung out with Joseph and the Three Wise Men.
Is getting gifts from a fat man in red suit that slides down your chimney in the middle of night not magical enough?… CONTINUE READING
Let’s talk about the time span between getting home with your kids after a long day of work and actually getting them into bed. And staying in bed. I like to think of this as the longest part of my day.
The minute the car pulls into the garage, all chaos ensues. The baby will start screaming and Henry will complain about the first thing he can think of. Tonight, his eyeball hurt.
It never fails. I have never pulled into my garage with a smiling child.
I get the boys out of the car and try to enter the house with Simon in his carrier, my purse that’s massive, and Henry’s school bag.… CONTINUE READING
I am in the part of my life that media has labeled “in the weeds” as a mom. I have a one-year old and a four-year old. Both little boys. Both stubborn and headstrong, just like their Mom and Dad.
My one-year old, Simon, is a crawling wrecking ball. He paves a path of destruction everywhere he goes. If he can see it and touch it, he will throw it across the room. He has an incredibly good arm for a toddler. If it’s too big or too heavy to throw, he will push, shove it, knock it over or scream so loud that you cannot ignore it.… CONTINUE READING
I have, and will continue, to admit I am opening myself up for intense scrutiny by writing this blog. Some moms that read my blog posts say it reminds them of when their kids were little and they love to read my stories. I would like to thank these women for their positive feedback and sunny disposition on life in general. I hope you see a rainbow later.
Other moms, aka Lisa the Internet Troll, find me absolutely despicable. Well, you know what Lisa and some other women in the United States of America, I don’t always like what you write either.… CONTINUE READING
I keep ideas that I have for blog posts in the Notes section on my phone. If I have a random thought, I jot it down in there and look back when it’s time to get to writing.
Today I felt the need to tell this story of true and honest mom failure. It was a hot mess express and I don’t know why I ever attempt to do anything with grace and tact.
So here’s the deal. Why is taking a baby somewhere in the rain a total f-ing shit show? As in, I would rather just stay home but unfortunately not wanting to get out in the rain is not an acceptable excuse to skip your child’s doctor’s appointment.… CONTINUE READING
I am a full-time working mom with two little boys and a full-time working husband. I try to juggle all the balls without dropping any, but no one ever taught me how to juggle and I have no hand-eye coordination.
That leads me to the fact that I am late for work a lot. Not super late, maybe just a few minutes. But I am a perfectionist – at least when it comes to my work – and that drives me insane.
And who on came up with working 9-5? Where do they work? Do they eat lunch? Because I have to be at work at 8 am.… CONTINUE READING
It was about a year ago that I stumbled across an article bashing “Bad Mom” blogs. It referred to the moms that write about drinking, cussing and making bad parenting decisions. It pretty much called them the scum of the earth. That they ignored their children and were only worried about likes on Instagram and page views.
I was a bit offended.
I write about drinking. I also cuss. And I have made my fair share of bad parenting decisions.
But how dare he call me a bad mom! I don’t even use Instagram!