“Why are we here and Hobbes is in Heaven? Why do we have to go to school and boys and girls in Heaven don’t? Why are we here if the Earth is not that great and Heaven is perfect?” my five year old son asks me with tears in his eyes. I would usually say he was doing his usual bedtime filibuster, but we did just lose our precious dog, Hobbes, a little over a month ago. The terrible understanding that death is permanent has hit Jack earlier than I had hoped. Continue reading
Picture yourself in a small white house, in a pink room with white wicker furniture, lying on a bedspread covered in a signature 1990’s rose pattern. You are 7 years old. Your best friend can’t come over this weekend, you are sick of the same old toys, you’ve been staring at your ceiling fan for 20 minutes, and you are bored out of your little mind. You walk into your parents’ room and desperately proclaimed, “I. Am. So. BORED!”
Then, she looks at you. The classic Mom look, her gigantic glasses reflecting back at you with a confident smirk. She knows exactly what to say. “If you’re bored, I’m sure I can find something for you to do.” Continue reading
Isn’t it weird how we’re always in some specific phase of life that we don’t exactly acknowledge until it’s passed? That sentence felt complicated. What I mean, though, is kind of complicated. Okay, so right now, I have two kids, right? Yes. Yes, I do. I am aware of that, but because I am going through this right now, it’s hard to appreciate it. There are the little moments when Jack is sweetly talking to Juliet that I can stop and step outside of myself and see that I am so lucky. These are moments I’m sure I’ll have to remind myself of when they both get a little older and start liking each other a little less. Continue reading
I look back at high school and laugh at myself. Things that were such a big deal then are hard to even fully remember now. Break ups were the worst. School was hard. Getting up at 7:30am was such a nightmare. Juggling an after school/weekend job with school and band practice seemed overwhelming. I remember a particular break up where I laid on the bathroom floor crying while my dad consoled me. (Thanks Dad) It was the worst day of my entire life. Failing a test? OMG! My life was over. When I think of what I considered a serious situation back then, I roll my eyes. Continue reading
My relationship with coffee has changed so much in the past few weeks. I’ve seen all these cliche mom posts about wine and coffee, but once you pop out a second kid something inside of you wants coffee 24/7. It’s just like the SNL spirit animal skit. We instinctively chop off our hair, drink a LOT of coffee and develop a taste for wine. I mean-I haven’t yet wanted wine *vodka cran girl*, but it appears to be my closest goal.
I have two kids, a minivan, and strong opinions on vaccinations. I am a 19 year old child in a 31 year old mother’s body. And it’s weird as hell. Continue reading
Y’all remember Y2K? If you don’t, congratulations, you are incredibly and luckily young. I was in 7th grade when I was first warned. My science teacher, an older gentleman, made it very clear that we were to be prepared. The computers. ALL THE COMPUTERS. Like….Errrrrwhere….were going to shut down. For some reason, this meant the world was pretty much going to stop working. Because the computers…um…I don’t know….didn’t know what year it was or something. Like I said, I was in 7th grade. Continue reading
Oh, Lord, y’all. I’ve already shared this part of myself with you. I have a few pet peeves, but the number one tear-my-hair-out, blindly screaming, call your mother and tell her what you did peeve is meanness. When someone is mean to me or someone I love I go from super chill Becca to white trash redneck angry girl whose name is not pronounceable through her gritted teeth. Having a child has taken these psychotic episodes to another level-and because usually the perpetrator is aged in the single digits, I have to control myself during these times more than ever. Have you ever wanted to grab a 6-year-old by the ear and drag him away while his mother watched? No. Uh. Right. Me neither. Continue reading
This week has just been the worst. One day (if you decide to have children), you will drop your kid off at daycare or school for the first time and you will discover what real solid pain feels like.
Today was your fourth day. The first two days I let you go just for a few hours to get used to it. Yesterday, I left you for ten hours. TEN. For ten hours I left you with total strangers. A little boy pushed you down and scratched your beautiful face and stole your toy. Your teacher handed me a piece of paper explaining your injuries. She said you did nothing. You just cried. I purposely did not ask which little tot caused harm to my perfect child because I knew that you might one day become friends with him, and that one day you might want him to come over and play, and you might even grow up to be best friends-and I would hate his little toddler guts for the rest of my life. Continue reading
Dear Darling Little Munchkin Nugget,
I’ve been writing these blogs for over a year now and hoping that one day, you’ll read them. I figure you won’t care about them much at all until you either have a family, or I’m gone. I realized today that I’ve yet to really acknowledge my reason for writing. It’s you. I don’t want to forget these moments with you. I’ve already forgotten about thirty percent of my high school class, my friend’s house phone numbers, and how much it cost to fill my gas tank up in 2002. I don’t want to forget the person you are right now. At two years old, we have a very different relationship than we might when you are thirty, so I want to remember each relationship perfectly. Continue reading
My whole life, I knew I wanted a little girl. She would have blonde hair and blue eyes just like me. She’d be funny and sarcastic and she would LOVE The Little Mermaid. (Narcissistic much?) I think part of my girl-wanting was due to wishing I had a sister. Obviously, I grew up and realized that children weren’t around specifically to entertain their parents, but still, I wanted a girl. Even as a teenager, I’d see those adorable little dresses at Target and think, “One day.” Continue reading