Girlfriends, I got to get something off my chest.
My house is never clean. Like ever. I have friends (with kids) whose houses are spotless. Are they better mothers than me? Nope. Am I a better mother than them? Nope.
I work out every day. I have mom friends who don’t exercise. (I mean other than running around like crazy people after their kids). Does that make either of us a better mom? Nope.
I have a friend who gave birth in a pool in her living room. I pushed mine out in a hospital bed after receiving a gift from the epidural fairy. Both of us are good moms.
I drink a beer or glass of wine (sometimes in front of my kids!) on occasion. I’m a good mom. My neighbor and good friend doesn’t drink. Also a good mom.
I’m a yeller. I have a good friend who is quiet and extremely patient. I envy her. But we are both good moms.
I have friends who are super organic, chemical free, and dye free. My kids sometimes eat popsicles for breakfast. The Continue Reading
You may have read about our adventures this summer at Oceans of Fun—all about how KC Parent Magazine sent us there for the day and how super easy it is to manage three kids of three different heights at an amusement park. Ha! However, it was an awesome day and the kids had a ball. Well, KC Parent again has provided us with a fun day full of memories—this time to Worlds of Fun. Here’s how it went.
Only my boys were in tow for this adventure, as my 6-year-old daughter had a birthday party that was not to be missed. My sons are 8 and 4. The 8-year-old loves roller coasters. The 4-year-old loves roller coasters. But only the 8-year-old is tall Continue Reading
The early days of motherhood are a foggy half-conscious dream, or a nightmare some days. You wonder if you’ll ever leave the house again, or wear real clothes again, or feel like a human who does things other than watch Thomas the Train and wipe up poop.
After a few years, the clouds part and one day you see yourself return. Maybe you had a quiet shower without interruption. Or you slept the whole night through. Or you went on a date with your husband and wore sexy boots. You realize you are conscious again. You made it through the storm. Your body might feel softer, you might see a few gray hairs, but you’re still here.
Years down the line, after years of tiny feet bouncing downstairs at six a.m., the house begins to quiet. Part-time jobs, driver’s licenses, girlfriends and boyfriends usurp the precious mom-time that used to be. You realize several days have passed and you haven’t had a true conversation with your child.
Other than the pile of laundry he left at your feet, you wonder how much he needs you and misses you Continue Reading