I get this comment all the time. From the older man in the grocery store aisle, to the librarian at the library or the cashier at check out. And to tell the truth, with three little boys, yes, my hands are full, and actually overflowing. I don’t know how to respond to this comment. Should…
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When my cousin told me she was pregnant I was beyond excited. She and I grew up playing house together and she is about as close as a sister as one can get. Her baby isn’t due until August but I am already in love. When she mentioned having a shower I instantly jumped on…
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My kids love magnetic toys but I love them even more because of how easy they are to clean up.
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For young girls in the 80s like myself, rainbows were everything! Rainbow Bright influenced our styles and early on we learned that ROYGBIV could add wonders to a crayon drawing.
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A few weeks ago I texted a good friend but didn’t hear back from her that day. This isn’t really unusual because as moms we have all been there.
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After the birth of my third son, I had officially clinched the title of “Boy Mom” and there was no turning back.
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“Hey Hun, they said that their baseball game was cancelled and they can come over tonight after all,” he nonchalantly says.
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My boys have just recently been asking to make their own lunches at home. Part of me thinks, Oh gosh, this is going to be a complete mess and they will probably be consuming something with less than 2% nutritional value.
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You’ve heard the expression, “A picture is worth a thousand words.” But what happens when my pictures are hiding a thousand words?
As I scrolled through my Instagram pictures, I realized that I am only showing about half of what my life actually is.
My perfectly cropped picture is hiding my messy house. The beautifully toned filter is covering up the lack of sleep I got from having young children. After 20 tries and a few death stares, we manage to get one family picture where we are all somewhat looking at the camera.
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Well friends, everyone burns their first pancake and I have been burning mine since 2014. My first son has become the guinea pig in my experiment called “Motherhood.”
This phrase has become my badge of honor. I wear it with pride knowing I have failed many times in motherhood to have earned it.
There have been great days where my mothering game was on point. And I have had failures that are still cringe worthy. Either way, I am learning to just keep flipping.
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