Yes, I’m A Mom. And Yes, It’s All I Post About

I’m a mother, hear me roar. And my social media feed is proof of that.

If you are on my friend’s list, it’s no secret that I post a lot of pictures and status updates about my son. I think I probably post a picture every other day but I know I definitely do at least once a week…and I basically have that right to, because my son is my world and the cutest little minion with blonde hair and blue eyes. (so i’m a little biased.) I love posting things about my son, he is all I really post about…oh and the occasional recipe and sappy quote about being a mom and how much I love my son…. that too. I’m a mom and my facebook feed is living-dying proof of that. From the profile pic to the cover photo to the daily jargon of teething and crankiness, it’s all on display. I spend all my time with my son, from early morning wake-up to 7 pm bedtime, it’s us, 24-7. To trips to the beach, outside in the pool, taking a walk or simply doing an art project or trying a new food, it will be posted. And I have zero shame. I don’t really care if you think I’m annoying; if your non-kid self rolls your eyes every time a picture pops up of my kid scarfing down a helping of green beans, or you think it’s over-kill how much I declare my love for my son. Tough shit. I think your constant posts about how drinking too much beer made you oh so drunk that you couldn’t see straight are lame. Basically, I feel like there’s an option to this, and it’s called the delete button. I’m sorry if you get annoyed at the cute pictures and videos but I have family that lives out of town and this is our way of sharing our son with them. It’s also a cool way to keep the memories together that possibly someday, he will get to see what he was doing on July 5th, 2016. I am a facebook mom and I live up to that.

I’m not cool anymore. All I post about is how awesome this diaper is and how much Dr. Brown’s bottles saved my life. The only selfies I take are photo-bombed by a little guy that just loves to play with mommy’s phone. I don’t take pictures of me and my husband anymore because frankly, I’m too exhausted to even try to look decent in them. My instagram feed is 95% my son- with hashtags such as: #mommasboy #myheart #momlife. I don’t post pictures of date nights (what is that?) or post pictures bar-hopping or vacationing without my son…you won’t find that. Sure, all that would be lovely, except that it’s not my realistic view of being a momma. This life, this mom life, is pretty damn cool. It’s tiring, but cool. And I can’t help but let the world know that- to basically want to shout it from my lungs. To want to show every body I come across that HEY- MY SON IS SO FRIGGEN AWESOME!

So if your like me and share your child’s life every step of the way on social medias, I’m here to tell you to keep it up, momma- because there’s nothing I LOVE more than pictures of cute and cuddly babies and toddlers and pre-schoolers and 5th graders splashing in puddles or taking a snooze on daddy. Keep posting. <3

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Tonight I Held You

Tonight was one of those nights in parenting where I wanted to shame myself for making my son independent. (Doesn’t that sound ridiculous?)

For months now, my son has gotten used to putting himself to sleep. He barely even fusses anymore; it’s bedtime story, kisses and I love yous, then I place him in his crib and he soon falls asleep. It’s easy. He has gotten accustomed to feeling safe in his crib and even better for me: he doesn’t need to be held or rocked to go to sleep. Everybody wins.

I was so happy and proud when he reached this amazing milestone. I mean, I listened to people tell me that our son should be doing this, and while I believed it as well, it didn’t really affect me until tonight.

I’m not even sure where this came from but I’ve been becoming emotional lately knowing that Beaux is turning 1 in two months. Honestly, I blinked and we are here. So that is what possibly set off my crazy mama hormones. With that being said, tonight was like every other normal night.

I placed Beaux in his crib, turned on the night time bumblebee, said I Love You one more time, and walked out of his room. He fussed for all of possibly ten seconds, and then nothing. Meanwhile, I walk into the living room and I hear children talking outside. Of course I look out the window, and I see two toddlers running down the sidewalk ahead of their parents. They were laughing and just then my heart shattered. It shattered because those two little boys, whom seem much older than my son but in reality, they may be older by two or three years. Two or three years. Even though Beaux can’t walk yet or much less run, that will be him soon. I felt my stomach churn and I headed for his room. I thought about it before I walked in, yet I did it anyway. Beaux wasn’t sleeping yet. Instead, he was in a different position where I left him; on his back and playing with his blanket. He just looked at me…I could tell he was a little confused, like, why are you back in here, ma?  And then he smiled at me. My heart melted and I scooped him right up. I held him and laid down with him. He placed his head on my chest, the place he never falls asleep anymore, but a short time ago, it was the only place where he could fall asleep. I just held him and cried. I cried because I miss him being itty-bitty and needy. I cried because tonight, I really wanted those few mintues to myself, but then I felt guilty because my son knowing that I love him, is way more important.

So, tonight I held you.

When other parents say that parenthood is bittersweet, I surely discovered that feeling tonight. I want Beaux to grow. I want him to learn, explore, be independent. I love seeing how he’s changing and getting smarter every day, but it stings. I know he will still need me for quite some time, but my heart breaks thinking about the day when he’s all grown and old enough to take care of himself. I always knew my son would need me, but I never knew how much I would need my son.

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On The Days When I Need A Break

On the days when I need a break…give me a hug. Tell me I’m doing the best that I can.


On the days when I need a break from being a mommy…hand me a glass of wine and run me a bubble bath.


On the days when our son is being so bold and I want to rip my hair out….remind me that he won’t stay this little forever.


On the days when the house is a mess and the sink is full of dishes….remind me that some people don’t have that luxury.


On the days when I fight with my husband and get annoyed at him….remind me how bickering is completely healthy in a marriage.


On the days when I feel ugly…remind me that beauty  is way more than skin deep.


On the days when I’m so tired from staying up with a cranky, teething baby…remind me how some women, would give anything to be in that position. And give me coffee.


On the days when I just can’t keep up with the endless laundry…remind me how fortunate I am to have clothes and loved ones to care for.


On the days when I feel like a bad mom…remind me that my little boy is happy.


On the days when I feel like I should be doing something different…remind me that my son is healthy.


On the days when I don’t feel important or appreciated…tell me that I am.

On the days when I blame myself….remind me not to live with regrets.

On the days when I simply feel defeated…lift me up.

On the days when I cry because I’m an emotional basket-case…offer your shoulder.

On the days when I just want to talk things through…listen.

On the days when I’m too exhausted to prepare a nice, healthy dinner…be content with frozen pizza.

On the days when I give you that look when you get home from work….offer a helping hand. And pour me a glass of wine.

On the days when I hate myself for still not losing all the baby weight…tell meI’m beautiful.

On the days when my patience is running paper thin…let me have a moment to myself.

On the days when I feel like I can’t win for losing…tell me that tomorrow is another day.


On the days when I cry because my son is growing up too fast….remind me to give him one more kiss.



These days happen often. It doesn’t make us a bad person, because moments simply don’t defy us. It’s a bad day, not a bad life.

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I Hugged My Son A Little Tighter Today

I hugged my son a little tighter today.

I’m not naive about the world around me. I know that awful things happen to good people. I know that not everything can always be in my (or my husband’s) control. I know that life can be so sweet and happy one minute, and turn ugly and painful the next. I know this, because I’m seeing it all around. Unfortunately, other people’s tragedies and heartbreaks are my reasons for giving my son extra kisses and extra hugs. To snuggle with him a little longer. To make silly faces and play peek-a-boo just so I could see his toothless smile and hear his cute little giggle. To cherish every milestone, every moment; and to remember that his bad phases are not forever. I hugged my son a little tighter today for my own selfish reasons. Because he’s my baby, and growing up so fast. I’ll cuddle him for nap time. I’ll hold him when he’s upset. I’ll read that story for the fifth time. I don’t want to look back and regret not doing these things. 




I hugged my son a little tighter today in honor of all the mommas that heartbreakingly will never get the chance to again. I grieve for them- I hope they can all find some form of comfort. No parent should have to bury their child, their baby. It’s such an unfathomable concept I never want to deal with. I hugged my son a little tighter today because one day, he won’t be my 18 pound little baby anymore. In a few short years, we will send him off to kindergarten with an over-sized backpack and lunchbox in hand. And while he will be excited to be a big boy and venture off to school, I will cry and wonder where the time went to. It will be an exciting new chapter, but deep down, I can’t help but worry;  these days, public schools aren’t even a safe haven since the tragedies of Columbine and Sandy Hook. Isn’t it so sad how these places we felt comfort in going to as kids, has turned into the unknown for the next generation? There shouldn’t be a need for metal detectors and armed guards at elementary schools. As parents, we should feel comfort when our children aren’t with us and believe that they are safe. I should be able to let my son play freely outside, or walk to the bus stop alone. But, it’s a different world anymore. There are so many terrible people that hurt children, and I just don’t understand it. I look into my son’s eyes and wonder how people can hurt something so innocent. I just want to protect him forever. I want to keep him safe from harm..to keep him safe from this cruel world.

And then, there are events that can spiral out of our control. One thing I’ve learned since being a mom is accidents happen. We aren’t perfect people. We try our hardest to do what we believe is best. We can follow the rules and still get the shitty end of the stick. We may believe that our families and loved ones are invincible from tragedy-bad things can never happen to us- so when we see a terrible and unthinkable event occur, we judge. We need so much less judgement and more understanding. This world could use a lot more empathy.

I hugged my son a little tighter today. Before I became a mom, I didn’t have this other little life to worry over. Now, stories in the media shake me to the core. All I can think about is, it can happen to us. so I hug my son. It’s a scary thought knowing that this life is unpredictable-anything can happen in the blink of an eye.

So if your a momma, hug your beautiful baby(ies). Hold ’em tight. Tell them that you love them-for every single moment that passes- you will never get back.

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Don’t Judge My Epidural Birth

If you think this is a post advocating drugs in child birth-you are correct. If that is something you feel strongly against, you should probably not continue to read. Because frankly, I enjoyed having a drug-induced birth, so don’t judge my epidural. 

Before I go any further, I think it’s a shame how their are tribes of mothers that come together to shame other moms. Like, you aren’t cool if you don’t breast feed your kid until they’re 4, or you arent a real mother if you don’t have ‘an all-natural-drug-free’ birth. We should all stop the judging and realize that every mom does the best that they can do. (Go ahead, breast feed your kid for however long they want! that is your choice) I digress.

a long long time ago, in a land where I was naive & child-less, I had this amazing and insane idea in my head: that I would birth completely drug free. I was SO stuck on the notion and convinced myself that my baby (or myself) didn’t need that epidural or that iv-drip, or whatever. I was gonna be one of those ‘tough moms’ that could birth naturally. I was gonna be liberated because I could push a tiny human out of my vagina, and without the use of drugs! When I would tell my friends that had babies how I didn’t want an epidural, they smiled at me and probably thought ‘ha!she has no idea'( which is exactly what I think now) And I would silently judge them for ‘putting their baby at risk’ (sorry!) because they did get drugs.

Fast forward to last year when I became pregnant. Now, I really had to ‘plan’ what was gonna go down on d-day. I talked to mommy friends, I researched, and I talked to my doctor. Yes, I had a doctor. That was another thing, I wanted a doula, again, before I ever got pregnant, but things change and so yeah. Anyway. I trusted in my mommy friends, the research about epidurals, and more importantly, I trusted in my doctor. I had an amazing relationship with my doctor, he didn’t sugar coat shit, he let me know the facts and that’s kinda really important when you are going through something as huge as child birth. So after months and months of listening to advice, and reading tons of articles and blogs (the dangers of epidurals, the benefits of epidurals, why I wouldn’t get any epidural again…) and talking endlessly with my husband, I went on the notion of “well, I’ll just play it by ear.” I had to admit to myself that I didn’t freaking know what was going to happen in that labor room. I’m a first time mom. What if I had to be induced? What if I couldn’t push the right way? What if I needed a c-section? I basically felt like it would be an in the moment experience, and that I would go with the flow. Just go with the flow.

It was towards the end of my pregnancy when I set in my mind that I would just listen to my body and trust in myself. I would trust in my doctor and the nurses and I would trust in my husband (birth coach). I was induced six days after my due date and gave birth to my baby boy the next afternoon. Being induced, like my doctor told me many times, was a long process, and the contractions were intense. Once I was out on the pitocin, the contractions were outrageous-Just think of a menstrual cramp multiplied by a 100000-that probably doesn’t even scathe the surface of the pain but yea,you get it. So it was then and there when I decided to go the drug route. If I choose the drugs, my husband kept reminding me, he wouldn’t ‘think less’ of me- that he just wanted me to be comfortable. So it clicked. I had to do this for me, for my child -not for some ‘I birthed with no drugs’ war story. I wanted the rest of this labor to be somewhat enjoyable.

I was given a pain med through my IV before I was able to get my epidural. It was a quick fix and didn’t last. I was in tears, squeezing my husband’s hand and saying things we can laugh about now. I was having him page the nurse every ten minutes to check if I was ready for an epidural. Breathing through it just wasn’t enough.Once I was 5 cm dilated, I got my -gasp- epidural. It was HEAVEN. And if you’ve gotten one, you know. I felt like a totally different person. I actually felt ready to birth! I was relaxed and at ease. And while I took so long to dilate BEFORE getting the epidural, I literally dilated to 9cm in like an hour AFTER getting the epidural. So contrary to what my hippie drug free friends told me- the epidural didn’t slow my dilation down, it sped it up full force, probably because I was so damn relaxed. I birthed, and thanked God I was on meds because I had to get an episiotomy-(not fun.ouch)

My son was born healthy and crying and gained weight and the whole nine years. And I don’t regret my decision. I honestly feel like the best part of my labor was when the pain was subsided and I could focus on the long haul of pushing. So yes- I love my choice of having a drug-induced labor. In this day and age of modern medicine, it seems like a crime to not use the medicine available to us.

In my opinion, the benefits outweigh the risk, and I just want to say- I applaud those that can birth with zero drugs. That is awesome – just not for me ! I consider myself a strong-minded women, but I’m happy that I budged on something I once turned my nose up at.

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