We all hear about the terrible twos and threenager stage, but I once had a friend explain to me that four is where the real chaos starts, and as we creep up on D’s birthday I’ll just say this— the struggle is real.
“Why” and “No, I’m not going to” have taken reign over my son’s vocabulary like an alien in a host body.… Read the rest
I wonder what photo they would use? Probably one I hate. Like that one where I’ve got that big goofy grin and you can see my baby fat and double chin. That’s the one they would grab, I’m sure. They would use that dopey face and vast dimples to paint me as a loving, caring, happy mother.… Read the rest
I shutter to think of the hollow shell of a woman I was seven months ago. I was elbow deep in postpartum depression and I wrote something that had a much stronger impact than I ever could have anticipated. I can pinpoint this as my lowest moment— when my entire world was rocked by my words.… Read the rest
“Have I ever cleaned this window in the three years we have lived here?”
It’s the thought that surfaced over a sea of trembling ones as I stood in front of my kitchen sink. I had pulled a carton of grapes out of the fridge to clean, and as the water trickled down their skin I ran my fingers across the stems and thought about that window.
I was talking with a girlfriend yesterday about mommy fashion bloggers and we were baffled at how they have the time to look so put together all of the time.
Mommy Fashion Bloggers: I’m NOT dissing you. In fact, you impress me— like woah. I’m in awe of your time management skills and totally jealous of your Aphrodite-like appearance even in your “I woke up like this” posts— with your perfect pouty lip and your adorable little white dog curled up with you on your perfectly white couch (I’m looking at you, Hilary Duff).… Read the rest