Tag Archives: Freshly Pressed

Confession: I don’t want to be a mother for Mother’s Day.

My life is – Whiny kids, a whiny fiancé, constant cleaning, zero privacy, no sleep, cartoons 24/7, in short: I am a martyr. The, a person who undergoes severe or constant suffering, definition of it.

I bet you already know what I want for Mother’s Day.

That’s right, I’ll gladly give up the flowers, mimosas, and the company of the ones that bless me with so much happiness daily… All for a little rest. Sweet, sweet, ever fleeting rest. To pee in peace would be divine. To not hear MOOOOOOMMY every five seconds would be a dream come true.

I am tired. I’m only human. I need some space. So please, please go away and have fun while I sleep and drool in the beautiful silence of solitude.

But please come back soon, I only need an hour or two. No matter how much I complain, I always miss them at the end.

Ain’t that something?

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The Gospel of Mom – The Beginning

In the beginning Mom created a schedule.

The children were rowdy however and Mom needed a break, and so Mom said, “Let there be light.”

And the TV was turned on and there was light . Mom saw that the light was good and she separated some time for this most lovely of activities.

Mom called the light a break and the darkness she called wine o clock. And so there was evening, and there was morning – the first day.

Parenting blogs might be ruining my parenting experience.

I write a lot about my kids and adventures in parenting. I am not an expert. You should never take my advice or try and recreate something I did with my two disasters. I honestly think I would rate myself at the middle of an ok parenting scale – where ok is the best. In fact, I’m breastfeeding and trying to put Em to sleep with Bulls On Parade playing in the background.

I yell too much and not enough at times. I am not the most patient and it’s starting to reflect in my oldest. She told me to stop rolling MY eyes at HER. She’s 6. I probably rely too much on technology for my 5 minutes of peace and sometimes, we snack all day. I’m guilty of letting Lo taste my decaf peppermint lattes and super guilty of letting Em nibble on dark chocolate. 

Sometimes I think I suck at everything and that feeling is usually intensified after reading random mom blogs and seeing perfect family everything pictures on Instagram. Some of those moms homeschool all their kids and manage to have perfect photo-op ready lives at all times. Dinner is always some healthy, organic feast where the hashtag foodporn seems inadequate. I want to eat those pictures and wonder why I can’t seem to manage more than a load of laundry some days. 

Those parents also manage to go out and enjoy each other. It took us 2 years to go have an hour dinner together. Who knows when we’ll get to go out alone, again. They wear awesome clothes or better yet, make their own clothes while their children are content doing some awesome artistic endeavor. They’re beautiful, always either perfectly polished or just grunge enough. 

It’s tough figuring out your parenting style as it is. It’s harder yet when you have all these styles to compare yourself too. All those stories you hear or read. All those suggestions and long term effects to consider. 

I’ll let you in on a secret – you’re good enough. 

You might not ever in your life achieve some of the things you see but those little humans you’re raising see you as the bees knees. Yeah, you’ll fuck it up. They’ll forgive you. You’ll move on. You’re perfect in all your parenting imperfections.

Live, love, laugh.

The babysitting box.

Dear parents who let their kids watch tv,

How dare you? I mean, what kind of people are you? Don’t you know that there’s all kinds of scientific and godly data showing that kids that watch tv turn into murdering assholes who can’t sit still? The fuck is wrong with you?

Oh shut it already.

I, like many other moms and dads, run around like crazy 24/7 after my children. I’m not complaining. I know what I got myself into but parenting is a job like any other, and in any other job, you get breaks. By law, you get your well deserved breaks. Now correct me if I’m wrong but I can’t think of many other jobs that are equally as exhausting and mentally draining as parenthood.

In what other blue collar job or fancy career are you forced to be the head of every single department and be solely responsible for executing everything from cooking, cleaning, planning, finance, and all and everything in between?

My toddler, still, does not sleep through the night. She’s 21 months. I’ve tried all of the suggestions in the world. I’m running on fumes here and still expected to do everything else. I do, half-assed most of the time but it gets done. The one thing I have in my favor is my fiance. He helps, he’s pretty spectacular.

Sometimes, I want to have coffee and update my blog. Sometimes, I turn on the tv so I can have 5-10 minutes to make my coffee and toast in peace. Most of the time neither of them will sit through more than one show, instead they’ll run around , playing and driving me nuts.

You do what you gotta do. If turning on the tv means you get some much needed moments of silence, peace, shower time (while making sure your child is safe, duh), then by all means, use the box. It was invented for a reason.