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.
Parenting is not an easy job. You all hear that from me a lot. And as mom and dads, we constantly wonder if we are “doing it right”. No matter how much we do, or how well we do something, we always doubt ourselves. Can we ever be totally content with the job we are doing as parents?
Probably not. I think it’s just human nature to doubt yourself when you are in a situation with a tiny human that has zero regard for societal norms.
Someone once told me that if I was worried that I was a good enough mom, that meant I was doing a good job.
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 am not a cool mom. Not at all. I do not have a smidgen of coolness in my mom body. And one day I will use it to make my children extremely embarrassed of me. And I can’t wait.
I know that when Henry is older, he is going to look back at this blog and be absolutely irate I shared so many stories about him with the world. He will probably ask me to delete them all and cry about how unfair his life is.
My response will be, “No way kiddo! Suck it up! This blog is like a time capsule of your adorable little life!”
I feel very Carrie Bradshaw using a question as my title. Except that I am in Owensboro, KY, not New York, I don’t smoke, my mom jeans are not the height of fashion right now and I feel like I could vomit at any moment. I am also watching my toddler chase our dog around the living room trying to give him a kiss. So yeah, the only thing Carrie Bradshaw and I have in common is the fact that we like to write. Haha. I was always more of a Samantha anyway.
When I talk about having it all, I don’t mean driving a Bentley and being the CEO of a Fortune 500 Company while raising eight gluten and soy-free children.
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.
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.
I am here to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Brace yourselves. This one gets messy.
Is it just me or am I the only woman that is not a cute, adorable tiny pregnant lady with a teeny baby bump? I am only fifteen weeks pregnant and I can no longer wear my old jeans. All of my t-shirts have turned into unattractive crop tops and my workout gear seems like it was patterned for a toddler. I breathe heavily when I walk up stairs and I groan when I sit down in a chair.
This photo is what I wish I looked like compared to how I feel.