Why I Wear A Mask to the Beach
Was it uncomfortable wearing a mask in the heat at the beach? Yes. But I will continue to wear it each and every time I come in contact with people “outside my circle.”
Summer of Simplicity
This summer was supposed to be our most epic bucket list yet. We trekked to the passport office in February in preparation for our first international trip in July. (Ok, it was Canada, and we were driving, but it required a border crossing, so I’m counting it). The girls’ passports arrived the day after everything shut down in March.
Ask for Help Already
I’m pathologically independent. Ok, I made that up, but sometimes I need to ask for help and don’t. The most I come up with is some passive-aggressive statement like “Mommy can’t do five things at once.” Not that I don’t try. Sometimes I succeed. Sometimes I cry in the shower and eat copious amounts of chocolate. More often, I feel overwhelmed and lose my shit. I seldom ask for help.
Escaping Motherhood
Before I became a SAHM, I never felt the need to escape motherhood on a daily basis. I understand how ungrateful that sounds. I can’t imagine the agony of wanting children and not having them—or losing them. I also know firsthand the pain of leaving your kids at daycare when you’d rather be their primary…
Raising Kids with the Ghosts of Christmases Past
My mom handles Christmas like a boss. From the gifts to the food to the music selection, we all know to just shut up, stand back, and enjoy the fruits of her labor. Christmas is Mom’s special holiday because hers kind of sucked as a kid. She has dedicated her adulthood to ensuring no one in her life experiences anything like them.
I have memories of glittering Christmases and not being able to pay my field trip fee or cobbling together dinners from the back of the pantry until Dad got paid. We rarely travelled or went anywhere that cost money. My childhood was filled with small experiences and many things. It was also tinged with the worry familiar to anyone who stretches the dollars in the bank a little too far, too often.
The ghosts of Christmases past haunt my mother and me in very different ways.
When the Sh*t Hits the Floor: The No-Man’s Land of Potty Training
Removing poop from underwear is an entirely different process from changing a diaper. I hope, dear reader, you won’t add this to your list of unpleasant parental experiences. If you’re lucky enough to know the poop is there, you may be able to channel your inner bomb expert and shimmy down your kid’s undies without dropping the turd on the floor. Of course, that’s assuming your toddler doesn’t do a little wiggle right at the end and fling it onto your foot or the wall or an unsuspecting sibling in the area. If you happen to have a cold or otherwise fail to notice the heaping pile in your kid’s drawers, you get to do the honors of flinging shit onto your foot or the wall or an unsuspecting offspring in the area.
You Get What You Get, and You Don’t Get Upset
Kids pick up all sort of phrases (and germs) in group care. “You get what you get, and you don’t get upset” happens to be one I embrace. Inevitably, my girls will be at a birthday party where someone else gets the last chocolate cupcake or the green balloon they really wanted. It’s only natural to feel disappointed when you see something you want and receive something else. And for things like cupcakes and balloons, the phrase works well.
Don’t sweat the small stuff. Be thankful for what you have.
This week, as I’ve watched the fallout from the presidential election, this phrase came to mind.