Let’s get real today. I write a parenting blog. But I wouldn’t exactly call it a REAL parenting blog.
When I look at REAL parenting blogs, they include content that someone might find useful when raising their child, such as potty training how-to’s or the best way to diffuse a tantrum. Maybe how to do baby-led weaning.
But I can’t write about those topics! Why not? I am completely unqualified.
I am raising my children on a wish, a prayer, caffeine and wine.
I still can’t get my three and a half year old, Henry, to poop in the potty. And i’m not looking for anymore advice on that one people!
Let’s be honest. Like super honest. We all have unrealistic expectations. We have these images in our mind of how life is going to be and then when it doesn’t happen that exact way, we get extremely disappointed.
Why can’t we just be honest with ourselves in the beginning? Admit that life isn’t perfect, our kids aren’t perfect, and we sure as hell aren’t perfect.
It’s like the Pinterest fail. You follow the directions exactly to make a nativity scene for Christmas out of toothpicks and rubber cement and end up with a big pile of nothing and a toddler with two fingers glued together.
Happy First Birthday Hashtag MomFail! I wrote my first post, Why I #MomFail, exactly one year ago today.
What a crazy year this has been. I started this blog with the intention of sharing some funny stories, keeping it really real, and relating to other moms out there that felt the insane pressure to be the perfect parent.
But wow, it has turned into so much more than that. I’ve met so many cool people. I’ve helped a lot of moms through their struggles with parenting, made people laugh and pissed A LOT of people off.
When I said I was going to keep it real, I wasn’t lying.
This last couple weeks have been a real doozy for me when it comes to parenting. As in, I have #momfailed more than normal. Right when I think I can’t get any more mediocre as a parent, something like this happens.
I have heard that three is worse than two. That is when your child turns into a “threenager” and really learns how to mouth off and perfect the art of tantrum throwing. But I also heard that two was the hardest year. And before that, having a newborn was the hardest. Then, the parents with pre-teens and teenagers were always there saying, “Just wait, it gets much worse.”
So, let’s just put it out there and say every year as a parent is the hardest.
You know how some people say their kids are really bad then you meet them and they are tiny angels? My toddler is not one of those kids. He is the kid that is very mischevious. He is constantly running, yelling, jumping and getting into trouble.
Yes, he is a little three year old boy, but the amount of damage he can do in a short amount of time blows my mind. He has earned the name Hurricane Henry. He has the stubborn nature of both me and my husband combined with blond hair, blue eyes and an adorable fat face.
Mom guilt. Literally the entire reason I started this blog. As a resource that other okay moms out there can refer to when they are hiding in their bathroom eating chocolate and drinking coffee. You know, just so they can escape their children for more than two minutes. Yes, they may be sticking their fat little hands under the crack of the door and yelling your name because the need you to pick up the blankie they dropped, but you don’t have to respond because you are “taking a shower”.
I actually did this on Mother’s Day and it was delightful. I sat in the bathroom at 7:30 am, ate an entire bag of brownie brittle and drank my coffee with the shower running.
I openly admit on this blog that I #MomFail all the time. On a regular basis. But there is one time of year when I #MomFail the most.
Yes, I have an entire season where my #MomFail reaches a new high. Where I wonder if I am totally losing my shit. Where my kid constantly looks dirtier than usual. Where hot dogs and fast food become regular diet staples.
And that season starts today.
Today is the first official day of high school baseball season. Actually, it is tryout day. So from now through the end of May/early June, I will see my husband approximately seven hours a week.
It’s almost Christmas! Hallelujah! But let’s be real. I am so tired of Christmas. I feel like it has been here since Halloween. I am over Christmas Carols and my jacked up Christmas tree with 75% working lights and the pictures of the Elf on the Shelf and my toddler trying to unwrap all the presents under the tree. So instead of talking about Christmas I am going to talk about something totally unrelated – mom jeans. I think we could all use a break from Christmas, right?
Mom jeans have really gotten a bad rap in the last twenty years. They have been judged and made fun of and even got their own skit on Saturday Night Live that labeled them as extremely uncool.
Last night I experienced a #MomFail I never thought I would get upset about. This story is actually pretty ridiculous but I need to share it with someone else so they can possibly share their disastrous Christmas tree story and make me feel better.
I decided that last night, I was going to pull all my Christmas decorations upstairs from the dusty basement. I am not the least bit crafty. I can’t make a wreath or gingerbread houses or even tie a bow that looks full and pretty. It just isn’t my thing. But I have always liked my Christmas tree.
Here we go again folks. The real just keeps getting realer. After my first mom guilt post, I just couldn’t stop thinking about all the other things I have done and continue to do that make me feel like shit about myself as a mother. I figured, hey, why not write another post about it. It’s kind of like therapy. I share the crappy things I do with the world, and you all make me feel a little better by admitting you have done the same. And you share the crappy things you do and we all sit by an imaginary bonfire, sing kumbaya and drink wine while ignoring our whining toddlers.