Real Talk

I'm sure I'm not supposed to do the things I'm about to list, but I don't care. Call me a "bad mom," but I have no guilt for any of these. Sorry not sorry, kids, but... I eat your candy. I saw that the Easter Bunny brought you some Reese's eggs. What a coincidence--they happen to be my favorite. I've been eyeing them. I'll give you a day--no, 8 hours--then they're mine. Looks like an early bedtime! I trash your art. Ok, not all (I still have all the sweet ones), but honestly, most. If I can't discern what it is and can't figure out which way is up, it goes down ... in the garbage bag ... hidden under last night's trash...

As the arrival of Baby #2 nears closer and closer, I can’t help but think of the vast difference in how I’m preparing (or lack thereof) for everything this time around. Of course last time was different; it was my first baby. I did what most soon-to-be moms do and attempted to prepare in every way possible. I read my pregnancy books religiously. There were registries made with products I thoroughly researched and thought I needed. Showers were thrown, a bedroom was renovated, and the bump was meticulously documented every week. Baby finally arrived and I realized no preparing actually prepares you for such a life-changing event. This time around I still broke out my pregnancy books as soon as...

Ok, I lied. She isn't five. She's four and three quarters. But, she isn't sleep trained. In fact, she's never been one who understood the glorious allure of shut eye. Most days, I'd rather eat one of those world record hot peppers than deal with bedtime. And naps? Ha, not in this lifetime. This kid just plain hates sleep. I know I'm not alone. I've watched Super Nanny. I also know that I still have it pretty darn good in other departments, so I can't complain too much. But I'm still praying that any potential future child of mine will love bedtime. It all starts during the bedtime routine. Putting on jammies and brushing teeth is a threat-filled marathon with...

My parents are the hardest-working people I know. My mother has put in 39 years with the same company, and my father has dedicated his life to working tirelessly at work and at home to ensure we could make ends meet. The two of them scraped and scrounged enough to send all four of their kids to private schools, all while managing to go on vacations, send us to summer camp, and pay for whatever sports and extracurricular activities that interested us kids. They have more than earned this awesome season of their lives. But I gotta admit, I'm a little uncomfortable. Raising parents these days is more difficult than it used to be. Once upon a time, parents would...

You never imagine it won’t go exactly how you plan -- no matter how many times people tell you or how many books try to inform you that all pregnancies and deliveries are different. You never really believe that yours won’t be the way you see it in your dreams. I mean really, if you think about it you spend 9 (really 10) months planning and imagining all the possibilities of how it will be when you birth this new bundle of joy into the world.  For me, my last pregnancy and delivery was everything I never thought possible. I had heard of postpartum depression, but had never had any personal experience with it. I was too strong, too busy,...