My child eats cheerios off the floor. Guilty. (sorry, not sorry) I started mom-ing my first child as if he were my 7th – I wipe his dirty face on his white t shirt, food spilled on the floor goes back on his high chair. I learned during pregnancy that my wardrobe mimics my mom style: I’m a yoga pants mom. Not a jeans mom. Comfy, cheap and relaxed. I fall asleep at night dreaming of ways I can embarrass my children in the future (and I do it with gusto) Living with angst is for your teen years. Ya, we could worry about every minuscule detail of our kids lives but what for? I can’t stop the flow of the river (I’m one woman, not a dam) my kids will get bumps and bruises if I worry they will or I don’t. I’ve learned what I CAN do is relax in said river with a drink in my damn hand yelling to the shore every once in a while “don’t hit your sister!” and my kids are going to turn out relatively the same welcome to unapologetic mom-ing.
As mom’s we don’t get to boast and brag about our accomplishments enough (believe me: keeping a kid alive all day is a fucking accomplishment. You go mama!) I’m starting a mom blog because I want to remember these years that my kids are young as enjoyable (or at least funny) and you know: if you’re not going to bask in your own damn glow, whats the point?