Today is the day. The first day of the Holiday Hangover.

You know, the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day. The week where you sit in the aftermath of mountains of toys, wondering how the hell you gained ten pounds in four days and if there is anymore fudge left in that tin in the kitchen.

There is always such a build up. This year, it seemed like the Christmas trees were up the day after Halloween.

DID YOU FORGET ABOUT THANKSGIVING, CORPORATE AMERICA?

Let’s look at the three phases that lead to the Holiday Hangover.

  • The “I Love Christmas Music” Phase: This starts soon after Thanksgiving.
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Gross, right? Who the hell wants poop for Christmas?

Me! This lady right here! All I seriously want for Christmas is poo. In the potty that is.

I have been pretty open on my blog about the fact that my three year old is still not fully potty trained. It is my largest #momfail and it brings a lot of anxiety to my life.

Disclaimer: Anyone mom shaming me right now can go F-off. Sorry I had to get that out.

When people have asked me what I want for Christmas, I have a list of things.

  • Cash
  • Gift cards for manicures and pedicures
  • New blinds for the house
  • Someone to finish painting the trim on my second floor
  • Long flowing mermaid hair with no cowlicks
  • Peace on earth
  • Not having to worry about my children being bullied on social media one day
  • Equality for everyone
  • Sleep
  • No more Paw Patrol
  • The ability to understand Roku and Sling TV and all that nonsense so I can finally cancel my DirecTV
  • A rug for the kitchen
  • An espresso machine
  • Tooth-whitening
  • Patience
  • A supermodel body molded by beer and tacos
  • The ability to drink and not get hungover
  • A week where I can lay on the couch and watch Netflix in my high-waisted leggings.
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When Christmas time rolls around, I really find it hard to write about Christmas. Because it is everywhere. And it has been for MONTHS.

So I like to change things up a bit. I can’t take anymore Christmas carols. No more letters to Santa. I’m struggling to find new places for the damn elf on the shelf I gave into. Can Christmas come and I enjoy it fully and I have a wonderful time with my family then it be over?

Please?

This time last year I wrote about my true love and passion for mom jeans. It was a trend that I had just discovered.… CONTINUE READING

My husband and I are very lucky. We have a lot of family that live just a hop, skip and jump away. You know what that means.

FREE BABYSITTING!

I can only name a handful of times that we have ever had to hire a babysitter for a night out. Between my mom and Logan’s parents, we are usually set.

I have nothing against finding a sitter, I would just prefer to have a family member watch my three-year-old and four-month-old for free and possibly overnight so I can sleep in the next morning.

Plus, I have heard that grandparents that babysit their grand kids live longer.… CONTINUE READING

Feminist.

As a 33-year-old woman living in Kentucky, that has always seemed like a very dirty word to me. Any time it is brought up in a conversation, it is always in a negative context. It was a word that made me shudder and think “gross.”

To me it came across as an overly aggressive, angry, uptight, man-hating woman.

Now, don’t stop reading. Hear me out.

I have never looked up the definition of feminism. I haven’t studied it. I haven’t had a conversation based solely on feminism. It just wasn’t a topic that I thought about a lot.

To be honest, I didn’t want to learn about feminism because to me it was unappealing and foul.… CONTINUE READING

For as long as I can remember,  I have had a very strong dislike of the Elf on the Shelf.

As a single twenty-something, I found it to be extremely creepy looking. That in itself turned me off. My sister had one for her kids and the whole side-eye and little smirk made me uneasy.

After I had my first child, Henry, I would see my mom friends post their adorable elf getting into trouble on Facebook, having tea parties with 25 other toys, or making a five course breakfast.

I will now be completely and totally honest. This intimidated the shit out of me.… CONTINUE READING

Happy Thanksgiving people! In this day and age, that means it’s time to talk about Christmas. I know, I don’t like it either. I am usually the mom that waits until the very last minute to buy all Christmas presents, but I am making an effort to do a better job this year. I have a three year old so he is actually really excited and that gets me excited!

My normal Christmas mantra is minimal. My kids do not need any more toys.

So in this guide I’ve highlighted some of the hands-down classic winners, a really expensive but cool learning toy and something I use because I guess I’m just selfish.… CONTINUE READING

Being the mom to an infant and a toddler really has me pulling my hair out lately. I spend a lot of time on my blog sharing the ugly – the poop, tantrums and sleepless nights.

Sometimes I have to reel my emotions in and remind myself of how freaking lucky I am.

I have an adorable, healthy three year old. I have a sweet, beautiful three month old. I have a loving husband, a dog, a home, a good job and I am healthy. I have a car and health insurance and friends and food and faith.

I complain about how hard it is to parent.… CONTINUE READING

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!
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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.… CONTINUE READING