Last week, I wrote about my youngest son eating a spoon (yes it was plastic, and yes, he is fine). At the time, I remember thinking, "Well, this is definitely one for the baby book." And I stupidly thought we would have a break from the chaos since that was such an outlandish situation. What a sweet, innocent fool I was. Because apparently my son somehow read that blog post and took it as a personal challenge. Yesterday, I made a critical parenting error. I talked to a frie

Why do my children always choose violence and chaos when they visit me at work? I miss my sweetturds when I'm gone, I really do. But I swear my children wait until they are in front of my coworkers before they make decisions that cause said coworkers to question who allowed me to become a parent. At home, my kids at least act as "normal" as children can be. Sure, there are mystery stains, suspicious silences, screeching that could wake the dead, and irrational sibling argum

Today they did my dad’s final call over the radio. I knew it was coming. I knew the words they would say. I knew they would read his badge number and officially close out more than thirty-five years of service. But nothing prepared me for hearing “end of watch” attached to my dad’s name and badge number. "Zebra #... End of Watch." It felt like the air left my lungs. My dad has been a police officer for my entire life. Not just a police officer - he was also a teacher and

The last week of school feels less like the end of an academic year and more like a coordinated stress experiment designed specifically for parents. Every email subject line suddenly sounds vaguely threatening. “Friendly Reminder!” they say, which is interesting because nothing requiring poster board, themed clothing, exact change, and a permission slip signed 4 seconds before the bus arrives has ever felt friendly to me. Somewhere around May, schools collectively decide par

Twenty-nine has carried a kind of emotional weight I was not prepared for. For many people it's "just another year." But for the first time in my conscious memory, time is passing in a way that almost feels unbearable. I am suddenly aware that life keeps moving faster and faster, people are aging, and moments disappear while we are still inside of them. I really don’t know what changed or why this year feels different, but it feels like I suddenly woke up in the middle of my

Mother’s Day is hard for me in a way I am not always allowed to say out loud. Because I didn’t get here easily. I didn’t get here “when the timing was right." I didn't get here "when we stopped trying and just had fun." I didn't get here with an adorable stuffed-bear holding a sonogram photo, or an Insta-worthy family photoshoot on the beach. I didn’t get here the way people usually picture when they talk about arriving to motherhood using a turn-by-turn GPS. I got here thr

Seven months is a long time to go quiet, especially when you once convinced yourself that posting regularly was part of your personality. This was not a cute, accidental break. This was a full disappearance. The kind where you either assume someone found enlightenment somewhere remote or simply stopped answering texts and hoped no one would notice. So here I am, reappearing with absolutely no graceful explanation and one very important question. Did ya miss me? You might ha

When we go to Target (not a sponsor), sometimes I drag my sweetturds with me. And sometimes they ask for a cake pop. I mean, it's only...

Everyone, meet Gladys. Gladys is our $20 porch goose and the real head of the household. Yes, you read that right. Twenty. dollars. In...

Disciplining my kids feels like walking a psychological tightrope in high heels. If I’m too soft, they’ll grow up thinking the world...

There’s the classic universal caregiver guilt. Guilt when I sit down. Guilt when I breathe too deeply and "relax." Guilt when I forget...

Alright, who's with me!? Forgot to eat Said “I’m fine” (total lie) Took a call in the bathroom Took a nap Got guilt-tripped by family...

Fun little nugget about my life: My husband and I spent almost a full year writing post it notes to each other each day. We would read...

You know the phrase. The one strangers, therapists, and school staff say like it’s supposed to make us feel better: “'Special needs'...

Raise your hand if you’ve ever been told you’re “too much.” Too loud. Too emotional. Too intense. Too everything . Like feeling...

Welcome to my daily circus: full-time employee, full time student, small side-business hustler, blog writer when I remember, mom to two...

Let’s talk about this fun little fantasy society keeps selling us: the idea that as a caregiver you have this empowering Pinterest-worthy...

Let’s get one thing straight: if you’re a parent and you say you don’t love free stuff, I’m gonna assume one of three things - you’re...

PJ has never answered this question for us until now - so yeah, it is kinda a big deal. (And yes I am very aware that his preferences and...

I have this habit of not keeping track of the (seemingly rare) times when things go right. Maybe still just a fraction short of chaos,...