5 Reasons Halloween is the Worst
It’s not enough that I vehemently despise Halloween – now I HAVE to let my kids dress up and ask strangers for candy or else I’m a terrible mom?
It’s not enough that I vehemently despise Halloween – now I HAVE to let my kids dress up and ask strangers for candy or else I’m a terrible mom?
I’m afraid that breastfeeding is the only thing I’m good at as a mother.
After my first son was born I’d go to the farmers’ market and grab homegrown, organic fruits and vegetables to make my own baby food. It was such a huge pain in the neck, but the alternative was poisoning my offspring, which was obviously a terrible choice.
The reality is that doing anything for yourself as a mom is freaking hard work.
And it was the best decision I’ve ever made.
At first, I thought my fear of being judged for homeschooling was all in my head, but what happened in the grocery store recently confirmed that it wasn’t just my imagination.
How often did I lose my patience, forgetting that she needed me to be steadfast and reliable? How many times had I responded sharply or carelessly instead of making her feel heard and loved? Had I been a good mom more often than not?
The older I get, the more I realize that parenting decisions are never one-size-fits-all.
I had high hopes for this summer. But now that it’s August, in the hell-depths of summer, there is nothing I want more than for school to begin.
In my perfect world, I would be the perfect mom, but that isn’t the world I live in.
I stand in my living room, surrounded by disaster and emotional children and feel suddenly overwhelmed by just how far I’m falling short.
The prospect of having four kids home with me, keeping up all my work hours, and facing the inevitable long, deathly hot days with kids who no longer nap is like something out of a nightmare. Here’s what I’m doing to survive.
If I tried to put him down, he would just wake up. It was easier to just leave him, and let him sleep peacefully while my hands were free.
Even once my desire for more parenting information waned, people still seemed to enjoy imparting their “wisdom” about how I should be raising my offspring.
The struggle of the four-month sleep regression is so real. To be perfectly honest, I’m exhausted.
After each birth, there was always this little longing within my heart whispering, something is missing, and maybe just one more?