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.
I have absolutely nothing life-changing to say today. You aren’t going to read this post and think, “Holy shit – this woman is a visionary. She is changing lives. I must share this on all my social media accounts.”
Instead, you might think I’m off my freaking rocker. But that’s cool with me. You wouldn’t be the first person to say that.
Let’s start with this.
Does anyone else find the unpredictability of their four-year old very testing? Like, c’mon kid, we do almost the exact same thing every morning. The Huffington Post Parents Facebook page told me this routine would help us be a healthier, happier family!
I can’t tell you how many times people have asked me why I carry such a large purse. It’s usually a man. And he usually follows it up by asking what on earth I keep in that large bag. Bricks??? That’s always followed by a chuckle and me giving him some major side eye. Or an eye roll if it’s been a long day.
Well sir, how long is this elevator ride going to last? This purse has 47 chambers and we might make it through six of them in a couple minutes.
As a mom, I need to be prepared for any and everything at all times.
Over the course of the last few weeks, my four-year old has developed a horrible new habit. He gets out of bed multiple times a night, begins screaming, “MAMA” at the top of his lungs, and moves into the bedroom still screaming until I sit up and have a conversation with him about why he is screaming for me.
I cannot tell a lie, it completely and totally sucks. There is nothing like being jarred from sleep by a four-year old with a blood curdling scream. The first time it happened, I was terrified. I thought he had fallen out of his bed and broken his leg or that something equally as terrifying had happened.
There is not one person in the world that has all the answers. No one knows it all.
Is that a ballsy thing to say?
Some would say so. Like Lisa, the internet troll, that likes to leave absolutely horrendous comments on any post I have up on a popular parenting Facebook page.
Being a parenting blogger with no true expert opinion, I get A LOT of negative comments. I try not to read them but I just can’t help myself! And I knew that when I started blogging this would happen. I’m a storyteller people, not a professional. I’m in marketing.
I always write about what is going on my life, so today I am going to put some stuff out into the world that has been affecting my family.
I have always kept it real on here and I feel like if I don’t put this out there, I’m not being authentic. But in all reality, I I need to hear from another parent that has been in the same situation. And luckily I have platform where I can do that.
I talk constantly about my sweet Cy Baby. He will be one year old on July 20th. He is the happiest, sweetest, most adorable baby I have ever met.
The name of my blog is Hashtag MomFail. I know what it’s like to think you are the worst parent in the entire world. To honestly doubt whether you are doing this whole parenting thing right.
I had one of those moments this morning – and it resulted in me dropping my four-year-old off at the babysitter’s house with no shoes because I literally carried him to the car kicking and screaming. I apologize to any neighbors that heard this incident occurring, but he refused to wear clothes and I made him get dressed. I know, worst mom ever.
Luckily, Henry and I both had about eight hours to get over this morning’s disaster and we like each other again.
About three months ago, I gave up. I gave up on the morning duels with my 3-year-old over what he was going to wear. I would pick out his clothes for the day, he would throw a tantrum and the morning would turn into one large hot mess before we even tried to get in the car.
One day, I got to my office and put my head in my hands. The mornings were absolutely exhausting because of the battle with Henry over his clothes.
Then I realized I should just let him pick out his own clothes. No, he would not wear the cute polo shirts and skinny jeans that I wanted him to wear, but he would be happy and my mornings would be a million times easier.