It’s Potty Time

I’ve never talked about poop so much.

Who knew that potty training could bond you with total strangers? People you were only acquaintances with now text you like you have been BFF’s for years. This is the magic of potty training.


And by magic I mean….I touched poop with my bare hands. More times than I ever thought I would. Just throw the underwear away you say? Yes, that would have been a better choice, but then I would have thrown them ALL away and Lord knows those Star Wars undies aren’t cheap at Target. Oh and also I’m pregnant soooooo my gag reflex was ON POINT. Also, I kept forgetting to buy disposable gloves becaaaaaause that’s usually not next on my list after “bananas” on my grocery list. Also prego brain. FAIL.

Anyway….I tried to pick up some helpful tips from others who have journeyed this road before me. I ended up in an Instagram/email/facebook/text explosion where we all shared methods and tricks and briberies and prayers and failures and it was AWESOME. (we should seriously use potty training as a template for building lasting friendships.)

Some of the tips worked for me and others didn’t. For example….

  • Tip #1: When child ravages underwear, turn inside out and use the pressure of the toilet water to clean off ravaged underwear and flush.
  • Reality #1: Turns out the water pressure in my toilet doesn’t care about my needs and left me standing there smearing poo directly onto it’s porcelain walls. Cool. Now I have no extra hands with which to clean the toilet or the naked poo bottom running from me like a freed zoo animal to my beautiful couch because the two hands I DO have are trapped inside poo panties inside a dirty toilet. *gags
  • Tip #2: Don’t lose your patience.
  • Reality #2: pfffffffffff
  • Tip #3: Two or three days of total failure doesn’t mean you’re ACTUALLY failing.
  • Reality #3: Despite the absurdity of how that sounds, it actually ended up being strangely true. All of a sudden after an entire week of despair, my son pooped in the potty like he’d been doing it his whole life. WHAT? HOW? All it took was consistency…..AND me singing a song I made up about poop to spur him on in the heat of the moment. It was like magic. Eventually my husband got in on the action too and now, as a fairly regular event, you can hear some combination of us chanting like maniacs in the bathroom about poop while my son feels like the king of the world. Whatever it takes you guys.


I haven’t changed a real diaper in 3 months now and I’m not even sure what to do with my free time.

Oh wait, that’s not true. All the time you free up is now spent shuffling your child from the table/shopping cart full of groceries/restaurant/park/classroom/church service/carseat to the potty in a panic. You now pull off the road like you’re being chased by the FBI to let your kid out to pee. Or you whip into a gas station from 1975 because going potty is now worth the risk of a convenience store bathroom STD. You start to miss the days where your kid just sat in a soiled diaper until you felt like dealing with it. This is also when you start to lose touch with reality. Why did we do this to ourselves?!!!

Answer?  Because ultimately being a parent is not about my convenience. Good parenting, in my opinion, means you set your kids up for a win in life. Learning to use a bathroom like a normal member of society is a pretty basic milestone as a human being. Yes, it’s a lot of work for you up front. But how many incredible things in life just happen automatically? Zero.

I’m tired. I’m dirty. I’m always out of hand sanitizer now.  But mostly, I’m proud of my son for learning and doing a great job. It’s so helpful to share the horror stories and learn to laugh at ourselves in the midst of the crazy, but in the end the greatest accomplishment is being there for your family, learning to do life together and watching your kids blossom into real people. It’s amazing.

I wouldn’t trade it. In fact, we are going to start all over in a few months with boy #2! Worth it. Even if I do have poop on me.


What are some of your potty training stories?!


real stories | real life




Dear, First Trimester


It has been approximately …FOREVER… since my last post to you all and I sincerely apologize for my absence but….IT. COULD. NOT. BE. HELPED.

Why? Because for the last 3 months I have been journeying through the vast and everlasting wasteland that is THE FIRST TRIMESTER OF PREGNANCY. 

Now that I’m not puking on command/gagging on command/napping on command/crying on command I feel I finally have the strength to update you on all that has been going on!

We are beyond excited to be welcoming Baby Boy #2 into our clan, and despite the wretchedness that visited me in my physical body during these last three months, nothing can dampen the sheer joy we feel to be going down this road again. Yay babies!


Now… you read the rest of this post, just remember that last paragraph about my excitement (disclaimer), bc the rest of this post is me just GETTING REAL about the first trimester BLUES.



When I was pregnant with Maddox I was working full time, with some frequent late hours, serving full time at church, hanging out with friends, going on date nights with my man and generally having a great time. Yeah… I was tired. Yeah… I had some nausea for a few weeks in the evenings. Yeah… I didn’t poop right for a few weeks. But overall – not too shabby. (ps. I was in my 20’s) (pps. I miss my 20’s) (ppps. – just my body though, not any of my stupid decisions as an idiot 20 yr old).

Enter pregnancy at 31. My how the tables have turned….

I have basically spent the last 3 months of my life negotiating with God to just keep me and my family ALIVE until I reached the blessed 2nd trimester. I have truly been an absolute TROLL of a human being, in every possible way.

Here are some examples:

  1. I threw up in my kitchen sink – more than once with zero warning to anyone around me – including myself! (thank you Lord for disposals)
  2. I washed maybe 2 loads of laundry in that entire 3 months – just enough to keep all of us from getting some sort of hygiene disease. And no they were not folded or put away. They just sat on my kitchen table and if you wanted something you just had to go dig for it. You’re on your own Maddox (2.5 yrs old) #provider
  3. Imagine that feeling you have approx 3 seconds before you lose your lunch in a bathroom somewhere – that was how I felt literally every minute of every day for 11 weeks….ELEVEN WEEKS! I’m sure some of you have def had it worse, but for me this was the most unbearable part. And now that I’m generally feeling better, even the slightest hint of nausea sends me into a substantial panic attack.
  4. I laid down. Anywhere and everywhere I could. I had to. My body was an anvil and no amount of resting/sleeping seemed to make any difference at all. My poor husband. He was basically living with an invalid/zombie for a while there.
  5. My house/the dishes/the toys/the crumbs – I can’t even talk about it. I’ll just leave that to your imagination.
  6. On more than one occasion (by the sheer will of my dignity) I kept myself from yacking DIRECTLY ONTO THE TABLE IN A PUBLIC RESTAURANT WHILE SITTING THERE WITH OTHER PEOPLE. If you throw up on someone while you’re out for a nice evening…that will never leave you. That will be your legacy forever.
  7. Also on more than one occasion, my husband found me literally crying uncontrollably on the toilet (like a crazy person) as I waited for the next wave of bodily mutiny to hit. Dark times you guys.
  8. I eventually had to tell a few people at work what was going on because I could tell by their faces they were concerned about the alarmingly pale skin hanging off my bones, the black circles under my eyes (and soul) and my 4-day-old top knot that def didn’t look “messy/cute” anymore. #dontcare
  9. I truly don’t know how many pizzas, chicken nuggets (from frozen) and Taco Villa burritos were eaten by my husband and child during this period. I know how many I had – (zero that stayed with me), but truly no idea what they ate or how they stayed alive during some of those weeks.
  10. And finally, the crown jewel of 1st Trimester – the everlasting battle between “Hunger vs. Sickness”. The last thing you want to do when you’re sick to your stomach (as a non-pregnant person) is eat loads of protein, take vitamins with iron in them and eat every hour. But pregnancy is this thing where if you DON’T EAT while you feel like death, you will feel like DOUBLE DEATH until you force-feed yourself all the things. ALL THE TIME. Is there no rest for the weary?!!


All that to say, dear friends, I am soooooooo happy to have entered the 2nd trimester. I am feeling the baby move, eating food like a normal human being and making it through most days without a 3-hour nap! I never knew how much I appreciated normalcy until now.

Next time, I will tell you why I chose to potty train a 2 yr old while on the pregnancy death-march and some of the new “Maddox-isms” that are currently my favorite phrases to repeat over and over!

Motherhood is a beast. But so worth it in the end!


real stories | real life


#honestmom  #becauseparenting




Identity Crisis


I’ve been thinking about this topic for approximately every second since I found out we were going to have a baby. It was small at first. But has grown into an Albatross that is always present in my thoughts. Always at the forefront of my mind. Always the unanswered question…..

Who am I now?

This may not be the question you were expecting, but I promise it’s what I meant to say.

You would think the answer becomes obvious once you have a child…..

“You are a mother now! Your new role is secured forever. It is your new identity and it’s the most important job you will ever do! The most important thing is to be with your kids all the time and teach them everything they need to know and they need you every second.”

As much as this statement is rooted in truth – I’M STILL CONFUSED.  I feel like no matter where I spend the hours in a day I carry a load of guilt and doubt along with me. Let me explain….

Before we had a baby I was secure in my role in this world. My husband and I both worked full-time, we served in our church and community and we had lots of time to spend together and be blissful newlyweds. Yes, I wore a lot of hats, but I never had to wear them all at the same time. I knew my role. I knew my responsibilities. I knew who I was. Black and white. Plain and simple (and also I showered and napped whenever I wanted to). pfffff.

But now I feel fragmented and pulled in a million directions every single day. How do you begin to decipher the best use of your time? How do you decide which hat to wear and when? Maybe the more realistic question is “how many hats can I physically get on my head at once and still function at 100%?” Because let’s get real…..there are no longer enough hours in the day to “do it all”. I can’t stay at home with my child all day and work a 40 hour work week. I can’t tend to everyone’s needs and all of my own. It can’t be done. How do you even prioritize where those hours go? How do you choose one important need over another “just as important” need without feeling like you achieved one but failed the other? These are the thoughts that run through my mind every day. And just in case you wanted a deeper look into my neuroses, here’s a few more…..

“I need to be home with my son all the time.”

“But I need to work or we can’t pay the bills.”

“I thought being a mother meant being a stay-at-home mom.”

“If I put my son in daycare 7 hours a day will he be damaged forever?”

“What am I missing when I’m not with my son all the time?”

“Does he feel abandoned when I drop him off at school every day?”

“Is going back to work something I will regret for the rest of my life?”

“Am I putting equal amounts of time into my marriage, myself, my children, my friends, my faith?”


When I was kid growing up, my mom stayed home and did not work. I always assumed this is what I would do as well. But as it turns out, my journey as a mother has been completely different than anything I ever expected. I work outside the home. I have to. These days, unless your husband is an ASTRONAUT, you probably don’t make enough as a couple for the other spouse to contribute nothing at all. At least that is the general consensus among people in my immediate circle. It’s just the new normal of the middle-class American family, I guess.

I spend as much time with my son and my husband as I can.  And I agonize OVER BOTH DAILY. Oh and time for myself that doesn’t include split-personality guilt disorder? yeah…… not a thing.

Wherever I am, I find myself feeling guilty that I’m not somewhere else, meeting some other simultaneous need. It seems so unfair and cruel for the needs in your life to be competing for the exact same hours in the day. This CANNOT be how I am meant to feel for the duration of motherhood. There has to be something I’ve missed.

I recently spilled this tangled-rat-nest-of-thoughts-and-emotions to my husband. (Bless him. If he only knew the amount of crazy he was getting into when he said “I DO”.) Anywayyyyyy, after I finished choking on all my words as they came out like an exorcsim, he said something that planted a little seed in my guilt-ridden soul and I’ve been slowly allowing it to grow…..

“Did you ever consider that YOU are the one that’s putting all this pressure on yourself? Nobody else sees you that way. Nobody else expects you to have all the answers or do everything. You are doing a good job. And we are all in this together.”

I don’t know why it took as long as it did. Maybe I just needed to hear someone else say it out loud so I didn’t put even more guilt on myself for trying to justify not being a time-traveler. But his words pierced through the guilt and started to bring me back from full-blown crisis mode.


Amen and amen.

It’s not my 100% responsibility to raise my son. I take a percentage of that….and however many more kids we have (which at this moment I cannot fathom). It’s not my 100% responsibility to teach my son everything. His Dad and his teachers and grandparents and friends have big roles to play in that part too. And part of that means being with me and part of that means being with other kids his age. And different people. Because at the end of his childhood……he needs to be a real person. Not a person that’s still 100% dependent on me and my husband for everything.

And…..I need to work! Not just for the money…..but for MYSELF. Turns out I need a break from goldfish crackers in my bra. I need to have lunch with someone without the baby wipes sitting on the table. I need to be the normal human being I always was before I had a baby. I still need to wear that hat. It’s a good hat. I absolutely CAN be a mother and have a job. It helps all of us. It has great worth. And I shouldn’t feel guilty about it. It’s not like my son is sitting in a dungeon tower while I sit at a computer all day. I need to chill.

I hope you’re seeing my point. And I hope it’s bringing you encouragement and relief if you have ever been in this vicious cycle of guilt and doubt. It’s ok. You’re not crazy. I’m not crazy. And we are doing a good job!

Also, as a final note, let’s remember that the hours of love and attention you invest into your children and your husband and your people don’t just go into a bucket with a hole at the bottom. They take it all with them! They carry it in their lunch boxes and clean clothes and memories and inside jokes. You are there with them wherever they go.

Turns out, you really can be in two places at once. Or more.

Screen Shot 2015-10-15 at 10.06.03 AM


real stories | real life

Make the Time

make the time

Let’s talk about interruptions.

Also-known-as: your new normal as a parent. There is hardly a task that I accomplish in one sitting now that I have a child. I return to half-completed projects/meals/tv shows/incidents all the time. I have basically become a crime scene investigator in my own home…..

What happened here? What does the evidence tell me? What was I doing here before everything exploded all over the house? Who was involved in this crime? Is there DNA? Let’s interview the witnesses…..

Sometimes I AM THE CULPRIT, but for the life of me, I can’t remember why I left the faucet running, or forgot all the refrigerated groceries in the car all day. Probably an all-thought-consuming crisis of poop disaster.

Interruptions throw me off my concentration game something fierce. It’s a problem. Here are a few more examples….

  1. When you have a toddler and any of the following happens:
    • You take a shower
    • You take a bathroom break
    • You get a phone call
    • You sit down to eat anything
    • You try to use your phone for anything
    • You turn on any music other than Barney
    • You try to WATCH anything other than Barney on Netflix
      • side note – death to Barney
    • You try to arrive somewhere on time
    • You think you are going to arrive somewhere on time but then there is a poop explosion as soon as you get everyone loaded in their car seats
    • You think you are going to take a nap but then you realize that your children can somehow magically hear your thoughts and now they know you are tired and will therefore up their kids-gone-wild game to level 1000 and how dare you even THINK about taking a nap because you know it will be INTERRUPTED AS SOON AS YOU DRIFT OFF (rant over)

You get the idea.

I’m beginning to realize that the rules of life have changed and UN-INTERRUPTED time is no longer something that comes to you naturally. It no longer appears on it’s own. You have to seek it out. You have to fight for it. You have to make the time. This now applies TO EVERY IMPORTANT RELATIONSHIP IN YOUR LIFE.


My husband and I are dreamers and thinkers. We are brain-stormers. We like to throw out crazy ideas and flesh out the details. This is vital to our relationship and our souls. There are only certain environments where our conversations have the space and time to come alive and breathe life into us. This time used to come naturally. Usually during 8 hr Netflix marathons on the weekends where we ate donuts in bed and only left the house for breakfast burritos at 2pm. We had time to spare AND WE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IT. Foolish newlyweds. Bless.

Real talk? The environment of “being a real grown-up” is SO DIFFERENT. Most of the time we are both in the bunker, riding out the war that is adult life: bills, calendars, work, laundry, tantrums, bills, church, car/house/yard maintenance, THE HEALTH INSURANCE CRISIS OF THE AGES, did I say bills yet? These environments are a DEAD ZONE for heart-to-hearts. We are simply passing each other grenades, charging the enemy together and praying we come out alive.

But, when we’re alone and can have a conversation UNINTERRUPTED by all the crazy…..our conversations are wildly different. It’s honest. It’s raw and soul-bearing and you finally get to bleed out all the poison that’s soaked into you during the life battles. You get to laugh at how cute your kid is and your “crazy eyes” after that diaper explosion you cleaned up, and how much you couldn’t do it without each other. Make the time.


Let’s be honest. This is a hard one. Why? Because most of the time you feel like you are negotiating with a terrorist. Yes, there is a language barrier. No, there is not a translator. Too far? Motherhood is 99% negotiation. At least when you have a 2 yr old. Attention spans are short. Opinions are in abundance. And by the end of the day I am hanging by my last mommy thread.

BUT, those last 30 minutes of the day can be magical. When my kiddo is snuggled in my arms in bed reading a book and giggling (because toots are funny). And singing our songs. And thanking God for “Mommy & Daddy & Mickey Mouse”. WORTH. EVERY. MINUTE. Make the time.

Your People:

Friends get the short end of the stick most of the time because we look at them as luxuries; as if they are a WANT and not a NEED. I beg to differ. If it weren’t for the friends in my life I would most definitely be “picking up calls on a banana” somewhere (thanks New Girl). It literally does “take a village” to live well in this life and you cannot make it without other people in your world. Conversations with my sister where we catch up on each other’s lives and share real concerns and laugh about things only we think are funny. Constant text conversations with my cousin that COULD NEVER BE SHOWN TO ANYONE or they would lock us up. Fierce friends, who really should be called “family”, that speak life and joy into my soul regularly. Without these UNINTERRUPTED moments with my people I could not go on. COULD NOT. None of us could. Make the time.


And last, and often times least (if I’m being honest)……my time with Jesus.

Now, before you stop listening because I played the “Jesus card”….just hear me out for a second. This is not a “quiet time” guilt trip moment. This is real talk. Just imagine E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G we are missing without UNINTERRUPTED time with Jesus. It scares me. I can’t imagine going weeks or months without having deep conversations with my husband or my dear friends. And yet, I do exactly that when it comes to my relationship with Jesus. Why is this so hard?!!

My theory?

Jesus’ primary method of communication is by invitation. Not interruption.

I forget that although Jesus CAN blatantly invade and interrupt my world to get my attention (LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE) – he often times waits to be invited. And acknowledged. He needs ME to think about Him. He wants ME to send him an invite. He needs US to participate with him. Otherwise it’s just an obligation. I can’t think of any relationship built on obligation that excites or betters anyone.

Don’t let the interruptions dictate the trajectory of your life. Take the reigns. Be intentional.

Make. The. Time.

“My heart has heard you say, “Come and talk with me.” And my heart responds,”LORD, I am coming.”

 (Psalms 27:8 NLT)


real stories | real life

An open letter to all mothers

An open letterto allmothers

Dear Mother,

I see you. I understand your crazy eyes. I know what it’s like to bathe a 2 yr old at 6:45am because of the unimaginable bathroom episode that occurred in his bed while everyone else was asleep. How could such a tiny person create so much pee? This is a mathematical mystery. Don’t worry son….I had already planned to completely strip your bedding as soon as I woke up and before I got ready for work. Oh wait… Unless it’s opposite day, and then yes.

I know, dearest mother, that sometimes the only way you survive your emotions is by grunting and sighing and wailing as you take in the vast landscape of carnage that is….the L.A.U.N.D.R.Y.  What has happened here? Did everyone soil every piece of clothing beyond recognition and leave it for dead? Surely. This is the only explanation.

Bless you, dearest mother, for at least attempting to reason with your child in public. Even if you retain a shred of dignity it was worth it. Also, I am told this pays off later. That somehow, over the years, these words of rationale pierce through the blood-curdling screams in the Target checkout line and produce reasonable spawn who will successfully make it through said checkout line without tears and/or demanding that you produce chicken nuggets out of thin air.  Please…..please let this be true.

I understand, sweet mama, that you are tired. OH HOW I KNOW THAT YOU ARE TIRED. I never knew it was possible to be 100% awake and 100% asleep at once. Only a rite of passage like “having a newborn” will give you this new superpower. There is no other path. (BONUS: this does not EVER change, regardless of what age you or your children are.) Also, this “tiredness” comes from the endless and everlasting EVERYTHING that must be picked up and returned to it’s place in your house everyday….when the stars align.

I know, Mama, what it is like to have a toddler burp into your mouth……dark times.

Speaking of dark times, I have been there too, Mama. To the dark places. The trenches in your mind where you question yourself and wonder if you’re doing a good job. The moments when you think you will surely unravel in every way. The days where all that remains is the “mommy machine” that you have become and you are not sure where the rest of your human-ness has escaped to. I get it. I visit those places more often than I’d like, but during my visitations I have discovered something that is slowly changing me…..

Motherhood defies all the odds.

It defies logic and medical absolutes. It proves that sleep is not a thing. It reminds us that being a MOM = being a SUPERHERO.


Sorry, I just wanted you to see it again just in case you didn’t accept it the first time I typed it.

Seriously, how else you could you do all that you do? How else could you read the same book 10 times in a row to your completely “un-tired” child by the time bedtime arrives? How else could you keep everyone alive and reasonably clean and healthy? How else could you muster the strength to wrestle your toddler into a straight-jacket position and squeeze ONE TINY DROP OF PINK EYE MEDICINE THAT COST $100 INTO YOUR CHILD’S EYE AS HE SCREAMS LIKE HE’S BEING MURDERED? HOW ELSE?!!!

Superhero I tell you.

So why have I written to you? Just to remind you of your true identity. You are important. You are vital. And you have been wired by God to do this job. He is with you and empowering you and you are not alone. Are we perfect? ummm no. We just have to be available. God can do anything with a mother depending on Him.

Dearest mother…… you are a superhero.


real stories | real life

You might be a mom if….


We’ve all seen those catchy Buzzfeed articles and Pinterest lists and GIF’s of the top 10 ___________of the last 10 __________, but you never know if those are real or if someone is just making up stories to get a read. So in light of my speculation (and genuine need to know I’m not alone) here are the top 16 situations from the last 2 weeks of my 100% real life that remind us ALL that…..

“You might be a mom if…..”

1) You sign the back of a check with a crayon bc you can’t find a pen anywhere….

2) You take a different route home to avoid driving by a playground and disappointing your child for all eternity 

3) You’re pretty sure half of the baby bath water had pee in it but you literally don’t care

4) You have a 90’s Spotify playlist that your toddler found and now all your son wants to listen to is Gangsta’s Paradise. Thanks Coolio…..

5) If your backseat looks like this…..

6) If you get a toddler granola bar thrown at your face in the grocery store and you spank your kid on a secret aisle so somebody doesn’t call CPS on you and so somebody else doesn’t judge you for not disciplining your child 

7) If you immediately went down the wine or cookie aisle after #6

8) If you get your kid a drum set but make him play with smoothie straws instead of real drumsticks so you don’t lose every last brain cell all the live long day…..

9) If you’ve ever had your face sneezed on at point blank range 

10) If you fantasize about sleeping past 7am

11) If you’ve ever thrown your back out trying to reach a toy in the backseat (see above) only to have that toy immediately thrown back into the exact same spot 

12) If you’ve ever run around your house making raptor noises to entertain your child

13) If you ever sent someone a text telling them your toddler just went pee pee in the potty for the first time! 

14) If you’ve ever had your pants pulled down while you’re doing the dishes and don’t have a dry hand to pull them back up

15) If you’ve ever watched your toddler find a microscopic piece of mushroom on his pizza and react as if that mushroom had poison on it and you were intentionally trying to kill him 

16) If you’ve ever had your toddler waiting at the door to hug you and say “hi mommy” and tell you all about his day ❤️ 


real stories | real life

Mommy Milestones

“Another day, another dollar.”  That’s the saying. Or as it goes in my house…

“Another day, another dollar I wasted on the waffle you didn’t eat and stored for safe keeping on me instead.”

waffle new

I wish there were more funny sayings for the other unexpected things that happen when you are in close proximity to a toddler 90% of the time.  Such as…

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself…..unless you’re riding 6 hrs in a car with a toddler and then that is true fear.”


“No pain, no gain…..unless that pain is having your eyeball licked while changing a diaper.”

OR (just one more)……

“Nothing is impossible…….unless you find your toddler drawing on his tongue with a pen and then you should give up on everything else.”

Nobody else? mmmmk.

There are days when these things are really funny. And then there are the days when I want to pull every hair out of my head, rip that pen out of Maddox’s hand and write “EVERYONE LEAVE ME ALONE” on my forehead for the world to see. Possibly in Sharpie for a more lasting effect.

However, despite this VERY REAL urge to run away, there are a lot of times at night, when I finally lay down and get a few minutes to reflect on my day, that I worry. I worry that all the things I fretted about, and yelled about, and lost my patience over were a total waste of energy. Energy that could have been used elsewhere in a much more lasting way.

I can really lose my mommy mind sometimes. Like……lose it. You know what I mean? When you’ve just had one of those days full of cracker crumbs and stinky boy feet and crying and screaming and tantrums and cookies just aren’t helping you feel better like they normally do and……yeah.

If that’s how the day has been, by the time we get to bath time I am officially OVER THE TOP with my reactions. You would think that the water Maddox is splashing me with during bath time had shards of glass in it. “If one more drop comes flying out of the bathtub we are all going to die” kind of reactions. (see exhibit A below for real life bath-aftermath pic)…


(I literally saved this pic under the word “haggard” in case you were wondering how I felt about it)

Anywayyyyy my point is, a lot of times I’m so focused on making sure my son hits all his milestones and doesn’t end up living in my basement playing video games when he’s 30 because he never learned how to be a normal human….that I forget to just hang out with him. Like a real person. Yes he is a crazy maniac who licks my eyeballs sometimes….but who doesn’t amiright??

When we found out we were expecting with Maddox, I wrote this little poem for that little person I didn’t know yet….


Even though motherhood is MUCH HARDER than I ever imagined, it is also worth every minute. Sometimes I go back and read this poem to remind myself that Maddox needs me to be there for him, and not just because he needs me to cut his food into perfect squares before he’ll eat it….

So… is my list of Mommy Milestones that I will be working on:

  1. Just sitting with my son
  2. Tone it down with the yelling
  3. Splashing is ok
  4. Eating a real meal at the table as a family
  5. Including my son in what I’m working on
  6. Taking time off of work to just be with him even though it’s 100% impractical
  7. Not being a selfish idiot

mommy milestones

What are your Mommy Milestones going to be?


real stories | real life

Please don’t eat out of the trash….


I guess this week’s theme is food related. That’s usually where most of our mishaps happen throughout the week. My son has inherited my “hangry” issues so food takes precedence over everything else a lot of times. I guess he was fairly desperate at one point this week because I shouted…

“Maddox, please don’t eat out of the trash!”…..

….as he pulled a hand full of day-old chicken fried rice directly out of the trashcan and immediately into his mouth before I could stop him. gross. It’s a wonder kids aren’t sick every minute of every day. Speaking of cleanliness, Craig told me the other day that I needed to bathe Maddox as soon as possible because…

“It looks like he has Bubonic Plague under his fingernails.”

…sometimes we exaggerate in our house.

Some other food things that happened this week:

1. Somehow Maddox got ahold of a receipt and was slowly eating pieces of paper in his car seat. Fiber I guess.

2. I kissed Maddox and somehow ended up with half-chewed chicken nugget in my mouth.

3. Craig fed Maddox a bite of chicken fried rice (before it was in the trash) and I guess Maddox ended up with a dreaded vegetable in his mouth and immediately spit the entire bite directly into Craig’s face, all over his lap and onto the couch. I’m thinking we should work on table manners at my house. Or we just need to stop eating chicken fried rice.

4. I discovered there is a large amount of MSG in Cheez-Its……what the what? I’m not uber paranoid about eating 100% clean foods all the time but I’ve been slowly poisoning my child apparently. Do you have any idea how addicted my son is to Cheez-It’s? Now I know why. Pray for me as we detox him soon.

5. Maddox ate a veggie-squeeze pouch and AN ACTUAL GREEN BEAN off of his dinner plate…… and there was much rejoicing.

Now……on a totally non-food related note…..Maddox is a giant these days and I am procrastinating putting him into a big boy bed and losing all sense of control during the night. So if you have any genius bed-transitioning tactics please tell me all your secrets.


-a first-time mom

real stories | real life

Paci Prohibition: A week in Hell

So this week we took away the pacifier.  Because apparently we hate ourselves.

You guys…’s been a small piece of hell on earth; watching my son devastated to the point of tears every night. Over a piece of plastic.  It’s hard to watch and I have hated every second of it. My emotions have been on level 1000 and apparently major transitions in my toddlers life affect me in very strange ways. Here are a few things I’ve done this week that are a direct result of the “PACI PROHIBITION”…..

1. I cried watching episode 1 of Master Chef. Episode one folks! Nothing has even happened yet. I know nothing about these contestants. One young man went on the show to give back to his mother…

“because she did so much for him and he wants to repay her”.

….I’m crying because the only thing my child will remember about me is that I took away his only comfort.

2. I drank approximately a third of a water bottle before I realized it was full of bbq kettle chip backwash that Maddox had been drinking out of……BECAUSE THAT’S HOW OFF MY “MOM GAME” IS THIS WEEK YOU GUYS. sick. sick. sick.

3. Left a full open water bottle in my cup holder which Maddox immediately spilled directly onto my drivers side seat which didn’t dry for hours and left wet stains on the upholstery and my butt.

4. I have not washed a single dish or piece of clothing because all my energy is going into not repeating numbers 1-3 from above.

5. Maddox has had at least 2 Capri Suns and some form of junk food for almost every single meal this week because I’ve used up all my “NO’s” for the week and it’s only Wednesday. Also pick your battles……also speaking of capri suns – you should be careful because the plastic that covers the straws break into millions of pieces and spread all over your house. You might find a piece in your crack after putting on underwear that was apparently washed along with said plastic pieces. I’m not saying this happened to me….but I’m also not denying it.


Anywayyyyyy… I think it’s pretty clear how I’m handling things this week.

Send prayer. And wine.


real stories | real life