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I’m a Stay at Home Mom and I love it. And I mean love it.

I didn’t expect to.

I had no clue I’d love being home all day with my little ones. But I really, really do.

Motherhood as a whole is so many things. It’s beautiful and impossible and perfect and overwhelming and hilarious and never-ending. It’s glorious and insane all at once. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and yet way more than you can handle.

Honestly, Motherhood is a way of life.

And being a Stay at Home Mom?

I think it’s the best job in the whole world. Now that I know what it’s like to be present for all the daily moments with my children, I couldn’t not be there for them. I would sell everything I own to keep this job. It’s not for everyone. And that’s okay. It’s more than okay. But, it’s totally for me.

Yes, your days can sometimes feel like you’re the star of Groundhog Day. It can feel monotonous. Sometimes you feel like you’re on a hamster wheel you can’t seem to get off of but then when you finally you do get off it, you miss it.

It’s a special and unique thing to be a Stay at Home Mom. There’s much more to it than meets the eye. And ear.

Because at the end of the day—

It looks like healthy and happy kids and a still-standing house.

It sounds like “It was good, how was yours?” when your spouse asks how your day was.

But oh, there’s so much more.

A fellow Mama recently asked me, “Do you work inside or outside of the home?” BOOM. That Mama gets it. She didn’t ask me if I stayed at home. She asked me if I worked at home. I hugged her. And I almost kissed her.

I’ll yell it from the rooftops and I bet every Mother out there will yell back in agreement with me—raising & caring for children is a full-time job.

And this isn’t a debate about Stay at Home Moms or Career Moms (both are rockstars).

This is about the sheer amount of love, energy, work and patience it takes to raise children. The fact is, whether you’re staying at home and taking care of your children or you’re going to work and they’re in school or daycare, someone is taking care of them. All day long. So, I’ll say it again—it’s a full-time job.

With overtime.

Hours. Not pay.

And despite the insane amount of energy & effort it takes to keep these little human beings happy, healthy, thriving & growing, a funny thing happens when someone asks us this one simple question:

“What’d you do today?”

Huh.

That’s like the most loaded question ever.

You don’t know what to say.

But why? Why don’t you know what to say?

Why is it hard for a Stay at Home Mom to answer that?

I’ll tell you why.

You don’t even know where to possibly begin.

Because when you’re a Stay at Home Mom, there is a strange dichotomy of feeling like you have gotten nothing done while simultaneously feeling like you are doing everything.

And you’re right. On both accounts. Because while you are checking very few things off your “to do” list, you’re also keeping actual human beings alive and all the wheels in motion for whatever they need to be in motion for. So the truth is, you’re getting everything done while somehow also getting nothing done. And that’s an odd thing to come to terms with.

“What’d you do today?”

You want to say “Everything.” You want to recount every moment & detail of work you did the entire day just to prove (mostly to yourself) how much you accomplished, but you’re way too exhausted to do that (from all that hard work, duh). You want to share every magically sweet moment and milestone, no matter how big or tiny, but there were a million and you don’t even know where to begin. And you want to say you basically achieved the impossible in taking care of all the people and all the things.

Or maybe you want to say “Nothing.” Because all you managed to do that day was reheat your coffee 11 times and hold your fussy baby, maybe it feels like you did nothing. Maybe because you let the kids watch movies all day so you could pay some bills and clean the house you feel like you weren’t on your Mom “A” game that day. Maybe because you didn’t do anything measurable it feels like you didn’t do anything important.

So 99% of the time a Stay at Home Mom’s answer to “What’d you do today?” sounds something like this:

“I took care of some things.”

Or my go-to: “I TCB’d.” [Took Care of Business]

And God forbid, sometimes you might even answer: “Not much.”

BUT THAT IS A LIE.

Because that’s not the full story. That’s not even like the Epilogue of the story. That’s more like one sentence in a 37,682 page book.

“Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.” Well guess what?

You can’t judge a Stay at Home Mom’s day by it’s cover either.

Because what it looks like and what it sounds like don’t give even close to the full story. And honestly, unless you’re living it, even hearing all the details of the day is still just the Cliff Notes version.

It looks like children who are okay and a home that is miraculously in one piece.

It sounds like “I ran some errands & got some things done I’ve been trying to do.”

But here’s what a Stay at Home Mom’s day—and life—really is:

It’s waking up as your Supermom alter ego and turning that fierce & loving Mama spirit all the way up when you hear that first peep from your child. No matter the time.

It’s protecting little humans that realistically spend a good portion of every day actively testing the boundaries of life and death and doing 117 things an hour that are guaranteed to end in a booboo.

And then it’s kissing and “fixing” those booboos that you saw coming 20 miles away.

It’s keeping little (and big) tummies fed and full and happy.

It’s trying your damndest to sort out fads from real nutrition and buy the healthiest stuff possible for your kids. Feeding them and feeding you probably looks totally different. I’ll snack on Combos from the gas station any day of the week, but you better believe my kids are eating Annie’s snacks because I feel like those are healthier and if you mom-shame me or tell me they aren’t I’m going to cry right here right now because I’ve been buying that stuff for 6 years.

It’s being “on call” all day, every day, for the rest of your life. Just like physicians get calls around the clock from their patients when they’re on call, the same goes for Mamas. Our children can (and will) call on us anytime of day or night and we will answer and be there for them. (BTW, my husband is a surgeon and in 6 years of Motherhood I’ve totally gotten more middle-of-the-night calls than he has.)

It’s laundry.

And the irony of this never-ending pile of laundry is that your own clothes make up the smallest portion of it. Your spouse & kids are the real culprits. Probably because you wear the same thing most days. (Just me? Cool.)

It’s also knowing which clothes need to be hung & which ones can go straight in the dryer & which ones have stains you’re working on. I bet no one else in your house knows how to sort it correctly. I’m not Type A, you are. (Actually I’m not Type A anymore—that is one thing Motherhood has definitely changed about me—but that is for another post.)

It’s tickle fights and sword fights and playing chase and hide-and-seek and building towers and acting out stories and drawing masterpieces. It’s whatever those tiny minds and bodies need.

It’s keeping up with everything in the history of the world. Dates for kid stuff, dates for adult stuff, dates for family stuff, and dates for stuff that has nothing to do with you but everybody still gives to you to keep up with. Moms are like universal human calendars that update constantly and sync to everyone else.

It’s getting to be there for all the moments. When someone says, “I wish I was there for that” you smile because you were there for it. And that feels amazing.

It’s being a referee in the background of every single activity every single day if you have more than one child.

It’s keeping tabs on what food you’re out of, what food you’re almost out of, and what food is about to go bad so you need to eat it first.

It’s braving the grocery store. And then putting all those groceries away. And doing the stuff Moms know to do, like washing the fruit.

It’s listening—to the chaos and the silence. Because seasoned Mamas know that silence is not always golden and sometimes chaos is the sweetest sound.

It’s changing out the coffee pot carbon filters that no one else even knows exist. (I love coffee, obvi.)

It’s making your children feel like they are the most important and special thing in the world as often as possible. Because they are, no question, but making them feel that way is the important part.

It’s remembering the dog’s birthday & being a Dog Mom, too.

It’s potty-training.

It’s some of your biggest fails and biggest successes in succession day after day…after day after day.

It’s answering questions from the mind of an inquisitive child every other second. The most popular question is “Why?” followed closely by “But why?”

It’s not losing your patience when you can’t seem to put the “Why?” question fire out.

It’s sensing when Grandma would benefit from a loved up FaceTime call with the kids.

It’s balancing outdoor fresh air time and indoor cozy time.

It’s weighing the guilt and sanity that comes with too much screentime.

It’s knowing what time you need to do every single thing to make it in time for nap and bed time.

It’s getting to be the recipient of the best love in the world because you’re the one with them. This is my favorite part of being a SAHM.

It’s noticing your child’s nails are too long and sharp and trimming them.

And it’s knowing when you need to Q-tip those tiny ears of theirs. (I know some people don’t believe in Q-tips because wax can be protective, but I am not one of those people. RIP wax.)

It’s knowing when the sheets need to be changed. Not just on your own bed, but on the kids’ beds.

It’s not getting to take a sick day when you’re, well, sick…and it’s taking care of everyone else on theirs.

It’s appreciating the perfect imperfectness of it all.

And it’s being okay with messy and real—in your life and in your home. And perhaps even embracing it—right down to your child’s sticky handprints.

It’s soothing little souls throughout the day when this great big world is just a bit too much for them.

It’s paying attention to which toys your children still play with and which ones they haven’t touched in months.

Then it’s stealthily getting those toys out of the house and to Goodwill without your kids noticing because it’s 100% guaranteed that if they see that toy in your hand they will desperately have to keep it even though it’s been sitting in front of them every day for ages & they haven’t touched it once.

It’s understanding when your babies need discipline and when they need a little extra love.

It’s loading & unloading the dishwasher continuously. Forever and ever. The End.

It’s knowing the bottle and sippy cup parts need to dry fully before putting them back together.

It’s somehow magically understanding that adorable toddler talk when it seems no one else in the world can.

It’s noticing when they’ve outgrown something and mentally noting when they’ve almost outgrown something.

It’s making your child feel like they have your complete, undivided attention when your mind is in a million different directions. You feel that scattered mind of yours but you try your hardest to make sure they don’t.

It’s never truly having a day or night off. Because let’s be honest, even if you are away from your children, they’re always still on your mind. Someone should warn us that once you become a parent you have your own personal cloud flurry of worry (cue Olaf) for your precious babies at all times.

It’s juggling the absolute sweetest moments of your life with some of the toughest ones.

It’s knowing that the “days are long but the years are short” are the truest words ever spoken. And embracing that.

It’s being a teacher who is expected to be an expert in every subject under the sun from Language to Math to History to Humanity to Etiquette to PE to Reading to Home Ec. to Arts & Crafts.

And let’s not forget you’re also the cafeteria lady.

Oh. And the cook, too.

It’s a cycle of laughs and hugs and tantrums and kisses and pouts and holding your ground and raising the white flag that repeats all day long.

It’s the love. Oh, it’s the love.

Being a Stay at Home Mom is literally being everything and everyone to everything and everyone.

It’s being all-knowing. And all-doing. It’s basically being a Superhero.

But let’s be real—that’s a lot to tell someone in response to a 4 word question. So you don’t. But maybe sometimes it’s okay if you do. Maybe sometimes it’s okay to talk about all the Stay at Home Mom badassery you’re doing.

I didn’t know I’d want to be a SAHM. I didn’t know I’d love being a SAHM. But now I know how lucky I am to be a Stay at Home Mom.

And other Moms feel the same way.

I wouldn’t trade my Stay at Home Mom status or super powers for anything in the world…even though it can be completely exhausting.

But you know what?

I’m sure even Wonder Woman would be beat after a day as a Stay at Home Mom.

And I know Superman would.

Are you a Stay at Home Mom? Or have you been a SAHM? What do you think?

Want more on Motherhood? —>  Do you have Mom Burnout? Worried about your child choking? (mine did) Are you a BOYMOM? Curious about period underwear? (I tried it…MAGIC)

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Long before my children made me a Mother, I was a Dog Mom.

It was a 13 year love story. His name was Hershey Bear.

It’s true what they say about never getting over your first love. Mine was a dog, and yes, he made me a Mom.

I had more loves-of-my-life make their way into the picture over those 13 years, including my husband and my children. But nothing and no one changed my love for Hershey.

13 years is a long time. But it wasn’t anywhere near long enough.

I miss him something fierce.

We were partners in all of what life threw at us. The joys, the heartbreaks, the new loves & additions, the losses, the sicknesses, the happiest moments—all of it. We shared knowing looks & side-eye glances. We walked together when one of us wanted to walk; we ran when one of us wanted to run. And when he became weak & needed to be carried, my love for him helped me become superhuman & lift my 100lb “little” boy up. He would’ve done the same.

I was a Dog Mom. He was my Boy. And I was his Mom.

The really unique thing about a dog (and maybe any super special pet), is that they can be the love of your life, your baby, and your best friend all rolled into one.

That was Hershey.

I was Dog’s Best Friend. He was Girl’s Best Friend. I was Dog Mom. He was my little (big) boy.

I was his. And he was mine.

If you’ve been a Dog Mom then you know how real that love is.

I’m a “real” Mom now. I have a son and a daughter. Yes, it’s different than being a Fur Mama.

Of course it is. Of course being a Mom to my children is different than being a Dog Mom. But, in so many ways, it’s the same.

Hershey was my child. He was Man of Honor at my wedding. He walked down the aisle. I tucked him in every single night for 13 years unless I was out of town. I loved him goodbye every time I left the house. If I forgot I’d literally reverse back down the street to run in & tell him bye.

My family and friends have always laughed about how crazy much I loved him. My husband often joked he didn’t know who I loved more. (He might’ve been only halfway joking. 🤨)

Hershey was with me every single step of the way for 13 years. My love for him was so real and consuming.

As silly as it sounds, one of my worries about having children was that I would have less time with him. Less time to spend with him, and less time to spend on him.

He was right there with me when I went from being a Dog Mom to a Mom Mom.

He was gentle & patient with my first-born. My new little boy. He was easy & kind with my tiny baby despite being a behemoth of a dog. He never acted threatened, and if he acted anything less than perfect, I’d say “Hersheyyy” in that tone Moms have…& he’d listen. (Now that I have a 3 & 5 year old, I can confidently say I think dogs are better listeners.)

Two years later came my daughter. Shortly after she was born, we found lymphoma in Hershey. We fought for him—with him—and he fought, too. Hard. I’d take him to Firehouse Subs after chemo treatments. I made him a room in the garage when he was too weak to go up & down the stairs. I even put our extra baby monitor down there so I could monitor him at night. The monitor would scan both of my kids’ rooms & then Hershey’s room.

See? Dog Mom.

At night after we put our kids down, I’d lie down there with him. It would feel so good just to pet & hold him in the quiet without the chaos of family life with 2 toddlers. To remind him that I was still there & it was still us. While my little babies were safely tucked in their beds, my big baby was safely tucked in my arms. His Mama’s arms. ❤️🐾

As his health got worse, I’d retreat down there & stay longer. Sometimes I’d talk to him about life & my new babies & Motherhood. Other times I’d just snuggle him in silence. I told myself I was doing it for him, but the truth is it was probably just as much for me. He’d been the constant in my life well before I ever started a family of my own, and I think being with him was comforting & reassuring for me, too.

It’s not fair that our dogs don’t get to stay here as long as us. They are nothing but love and they deserve longer.

And it’s not fair that we don’t get to be Dog Moms longer. It’s a beautiful bond that could last a lifetime if given the chance.

I say all the time how I’d freeze my children forever right now if I could. They love me so much at this point in their little lives. I’m their whole world. Time goes too fast. I do think the days are long but the years are short. I wish I could stop time.

I also felt that way with Hershey, but for different reasons.

It hurt me to see him changing & aging right in front of me. I wanted time to stop. I wanted to have longer with him.

It was difficult watching him get older, wondering if he was okay, if he ached, if I was doing everything right, and if he felt loved enough. He was down a spleen & battling lymphoma like a soldier. He had terrible arthritis because of those long legs of his. And he had severe hip dysplasia.

It was hard to see him hurt.

As he got older, he struggled. Physically he became weaker, but his spirit only grew stronger.

Just like I kind of love the sticky little child handprints my kids leave all over the house, I loved Hershey’s paw prints. When I’d come home & see his wet or dirty paw prints on the floor, I’d be so touched. Because I knew the effort it took to get those prints there. The amount of will & strength it took my 100lb boy to get up & walk outside for a brief minute of fresh air before retreating back to his bed.

Years back I’d started taking him to therapeutic swimming to give his joints some relief. For over a decade, I’d saved my money to pay his vet bills, for all his bloodwork & medicine, to get him the right kind of food for his joints, and for the clencher—chemo. When I sold my Wrangler before having kids so I could get something safer, I was looking for two things—a comfortable, safe car for kids and a cargo area big enough for Hershey. (Oh, and heated seats, obvi.)

You know who does stuff like that? A Dog Mom.

I was fortunate enough to be able to do all that for him. I know that’s not always possible. I’m extremely grateful to have had such a loving husband who never questioned any decision I made regarding my first little boy. He never made me feel like Hershey was “just a dog.”

Because our dogs aren’t “just dogs.” And we aren’t “just owners.”

My dog is the one who made me a Mama all those years ago. He will always be the one who made me a Mama. A Fur Mama.

Nothing—no amount of time or space or human kids—can change that.

Once a Mom, always a Mom. Even a Dog Mom.

Make no mistake about that.

Are you a Dog Mom? Were you a Fur Mama first?

Want more on Motherhood? —> Are you a SAHM? Or a BOYMOM? Have you been mom-shamed?

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This is my husband. He’s a surgeon. He constantly wears a mask for work. And has for 15+ years.

Why does he wear it? To protect his patients. To protect their opened up organs & wounds from droplets, coughs, sneezes, and general contamination.

In fact, every single person in the OR wears one for the very same reason. For us—the patients.

And if he’s operating on you, I’d be willing to bet you want him wearing that mask. You wouldn’t want him to cough into your body & cause an infection. Would you?

He wears masks for 12+ hours straight some days, only taking one off to put on another.

Before you say it, yes—the mask is also to protect him from any body fluids getting into his orifices. When he’s actively operating he wears goggles, too. And as his wife, you bet I want him to. Of course I want him to protect himself as much as possible.

He is just one of millions of people who wear masks for their job every single day.

Nurses, techs, construction workers, dentists, nail techs, hygienists, lawn care workers, janitors, painters, food servers, carpenters, exterminators, lab staff…to name a few. I’m sure I forgot many.

All those people aren’t wearing masks for no reason. They’re wearing them because masks offer some form of protection from whatever it is they may be doing—or whoever it is they may be seeing.

So when we rebuff masks as not effective, think about sitting in the dentist chair & having them breathe all over you.

When we argue that masks don’t protect the other person, think about having your body splayed open & your surgeon asking for an instrument & speech droplets falling right over that cut.

When we counter that masks don’t protect us, think of the person removing the asbestos or black mold from your house. Heck, even the painter wearing a mask to help shield the fumes.

And when we complain that we can’t breathe after wearing a mask for 2 minutes, think of the person in the blazing sun all day doing manual labor while wearing a mask.

And if it’s too hard to generalize things and you need a face to think of—you can think of my husband. That’s his daily masked-up face up there.

He’s not some kind of martyr for wearing a mask. He’s just doing exactly what he should. Just like all those others.

And the stance that wearing a mask increases CO2 intake to dangerous levels? Well 1st) that’s wildly inaccurate and 2nd) even if that were true (it’s not), maybe ask why it’s okay to let people in all these professions wear masks for hours daily? For years. Since people are suddenly so impassioned about it now, where has this mask activism been for others all these years?

Basically, we just need to think of others. That’s really what this all boils down to.

I mean, I’m thinking of myself, too—don’t get me wrong. And when I put masks on my kids I’m thinking about protecting them.

But for those people who don’t think masks provide any protection during this pandemic & don’t want to wear a mask to protect themselves, don’t. Wear it to protect the others.

We should think of the ones who have always worn a mask for us. And the ones who are putting on a mask now for the first time in their lives.

For us & for themselves.

And for the record, I do believe that wearing a mask during this pandemic helps protect everyone & curb the spread of Covid. But, I realize I’m not a physician or a scientist. I’m not aggregating and analyzing the data as it comes in. Are you?

So instead I base my decision to wear a mask on the fact that if there is even the teeniest, tiniest possibility that wearing a mask helps limit the spread of Covid and protect ourselves and others, that’s enough for me.

Because if those of us wearing masks are wrong, what’s the worst that happened? We wore a piece of fabric on our face for a few months?

But if those of us not wearing masks are wrong, what’s the worst that happened? We spread this virus & contributed to exponential infections?

I’ll take the fabric over the guilt.

No I don’t normally write about stuff like this, but nothing about any of this is normal. Now back to regular programming…

I usually talk about Motherhood —> Are you a SAHM? Have you yelled at your kids? (I did & what happened after shocked me) Are you a Mom raising a black son?

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Mamas, I know you’re tired of hearing “The days are long but the years are short” from everyone you encounter.

And their Mamas.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard another Mama say “If another person tells me ‘the days are long but the years are short’ I’m gonna…”

And I get it.

Kind of.

But not really.

I mean, I know that you’re tired of hearing it, but I don’t really know why.

Maybe because You. Are. Trying.

Trying so hard to keep it all together & make everything happen that needs to happen while still relishing all the MOMents & giving your children Quality Time (the real QT where you’re present with them & not in the background doing all the things for all the people all the time).

But Mamas, hear me out, because here’s the thing:

“The days are long but the years are short” is not meant to pressure you.

I repeat: It’s not meant to pressure you.

Those other Mamas who have some years on us tell us that “the days are long but the years are short” on repeat for one reason: BECAUSE. IT’S. TRUE.

They’ve lived what we’re currently living. They’ve been in our shoes. Actually, we’re in their shoes and not the other way around.

They’ve walked this walk. They were here first. They know how quickly it goes.

They’ve walked the walk. So they are allowed to talk the talk.

They know that the days can be some of the longest of your life. And hardest. And defeating.

But they also know that you’ll look back on these days and lust for them.

I know what you’re thinking. That you won’t lust for the meltdowns. You won’t miss the tantrums. You won’t yearn for the exasperated feeling you sometimes have now.

Ne neither.

Of course you don’t have to enjoy every second of Motherhood. That’s not what they’re saying. They’re simply saying that it goes fast and you’ll miss it. Yes, even some of the things you don’t think you’ll miss.

When another Mother tells you “The days are long but the years are short,” she’s saying it out of empathy. She’s not telling you to enjoy every minute. She’s simply telling you to enjoy it. That’s a big difference.

Those Mamas know.

They know the years fly by at light speed and one day you’ll find yourself practically begging your kids to need you like they once did. Or even just talk to you. Hell, even just hug you.

They know how quickly you will go from being your kid’s entire world to just a piece of it. Hopefully like a continent-sized piece. But sometimes you might end up being more like a country. Or a state. Or, gulp, a city.

And they know how much they wish they had sometimes just set the cleaning aside or microwaved Mac & Chz instead of really cooking (lbh, me most days anyway 🙋🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️) or not done the laundry or unloaded the dishwasher that very second AND JUST SAT DOWN with their kids.

Just sitting down with your kids is underrated. Or just playing with them. You should try it sometime. And so should I.

The days are long—so long—because we spend our days doing everything we possibly can to take care of our kids (hellooo mom burnout). But the irony of that is that even though we spend all our time on them, it means we often spend less time with them.

But I hear you. Sometimes we can’t just sit down. Sometimes we really do have to do stuff right then. That’s real life. And you’re right.

But sometimes we can. Yes it might add on 30 minutes at the end of the day when we’re already barely functioning, but sometimes it’s worth that. Sometimes 30 minutes of snuggling with your children is worth 30 minutes of folding the laundry after bedtime. Or 30 less minutes with your husband. Or 30 less minutes to yourself. And some days it’s not worth it, and you know what? That’s okay. It’s more than okay. But maybe some days it’s so worth it.

“The days are long and the years are short” is one of the most accurate things I’ve ever heard in my entire life.

Hammer. Nail. Head. (…you get my point.)

So I honestly don’t know why so many of us Mamas get bothered when people say that to us…and even resent it. They’re not mom-shaming us. They’re not patronizing us (unless her name is Becky or Janet and then chances are she might be because those 2 seem to be the ubiquitous Meme Mean Moms. Sigh, poor nice Beckies & Janets.).

Those other Mamas aren’t judging you. They’re simply telling us what they wish someone had told them. Or maybe what someone did tell them…but they didn’t listen. (Hello, us.)

And they wish they had. They wish they had listened.

I don’t get annoyed when another Mama tells me “the days are long and the years are short.” Or when I read it on a quote making its way all over the internet. Instead, I feel a little solidarity like—“Hell yeah, she gets it.”

Fist bumps all around. Or high-fives. Or hugs. (Depending on my mood and current emotional state, ha.)

I actually even appreciate when someone says it to me because it makes me pause—even if just for a second—and can shift my entire perspective.

It slows me down. I need that. You wouldn’t think a Mother needs little reminders to stop & just be with her own children sometimes. But I’ll be the first to admit that I do.

When someone does say the whole “The days are long but the years are short” thing we shouldn’t feel defensive. It’s not supposed to put pressure on us. Just the opposite actually.

It’s basically saying—Enjoy your kids. Give yourself a break & sit down for a minute & do nothing with your kids—for them AND FOR YOU.

Oh, and it’s also saying that the laundry & dust & dishes & bills will always be there…but your kids won’t.

I saw a quote somewhere that said we only get “18 delicious summers with our children” at home. That’s so not a lot.

Or that we only have a baby for a year, a toddler for 2 years, a kid for a few years, a teen…you get the point.

Those things stopped me in me tracks. But they didn’t make me feel pressured or attacked. They made me feel grateful for the reminders.

A lot of my fellow Mamas don’t agree with me about that. A bunch of you feel really offended or pressured when someone says something like that.

But noting that we have “18 delicious summers” with our kids at home isn’t intended to make us feel pressured to make every single moment of summer perfect. (And if we’re being honest, some of the best summer days are watching TV in pajamas all day because it’s just too hot outside. And I bet our kids think days like that are pretty damn perfect.)

I’m only 5.5 years into Motherhood and it’s already going too fast for me.

Is it so hard some days (ahem, every day)? YES.

And is it my favorite thing in the history of the world? ALSO YES.

“The days are too long and the years are too short” is maybe even more fitting. Because at the end of the day I’m beat to total Mombie Status & yet I already want more time with them.

It’s like that crazy thing about Motherhood where you can’t wait to put them to bed and as soon as you do…you miss them.

That’s insane, I know.

But Motherhood is a little insane. In the most beautiful way.

When a Mother tells you “The days are long and the years are short” try to hear her words.

And not get defensive or go on the offensive.

Because she’s not trying to pressure you. But she’s also not lying about the fact that your child won’t want you to hold them to sleep in a few years. It’s hard to imagine that because right now it’s almost Mission:Impossible to put your kids to bed in under an hour. But they know one day “Mama, I’m thirsty. Mommy, I need to go potty. Mama can we read another book? Will you hold me, Mommy? Mama, is a T-Rex bigger than a blue whale? But WHY? …..Mama, will you stay a little longer?” will morph into a simple “Good night, Mom.” (*I’m not crying you’re crying.)

*Okay, I’m full-on sobbing.

And if we’re lucky we’ll get an “I love you.”

As I laid in bed with my son for the longest bedtime ever the other night, I wished so much for him to hurry up and fall asleep so I could leave. As I thought about how I’d been in there forever and wanted to go do some of my own stuff he piped up, “Mama?” I pretended to be asleep. So he said it 2 more times. I finally answered “Yeah honey?”

He said “I’m SO happy. I’m just so happy because I love you.” Followed by the sweetest squeeze.

It hit me like a ton of bricks.

For 25 minutes I’d been lying there thinking about how I wanted to escape to my room and about all the things I wanted to get done the next day, and he’d been lying there thinking about how happy he was that I was holding him and how much he loved me.

It wasn’t even like a shot of perspective. It was like a full-on IV drip straight to my veins.

They’ll tell you the days are long but the years are short. They’ll say that because it’s true. And you might feel affronted. But you shouldn’t.

You should take it with a heaping cup of salt. Because they’re right. And what they’re saying matters.

It’s basically advice from your future self. And your future self is right.

So soak it in.

Their words. Your children. Motherhood. All of it.

Because the days are long but the years are short.

That’s right. I said it.

Because I believe it. Boom. 💥

Does it bother you when someone tells you “The days are long but the years are short” or does it give you a little perspective?

Want more on Motherhood? –> Are you a SAHM? Worried about your child choking? Been wanting to try Period Panties? (I tried them: they’re magic)

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Dear Moms Raising Black Sons,

I’m a white mom raising a white son. I worry about him constantly. Because that’s what Moms do. I think about his safety, his health, and his happiness on repeat all day every day. Just like you.

All Moms worry. Well, good ones anyways. It’s one of the things no one really tells you about Motherhood: how much you’ll worry.

(Spoiler alert: A LOT.)

My son is young, so my worries for him now are about whether I make him feel loved enough, keeping him healthy, raising him to be kind & confident, and keeping him safe. The same worries every Mother has for her child.

As he gets older, I’ll worry about my son falling in with the wrong group of friends. Or getting made fun of or bullied. Or trying something he shouldn’t. I’ll worry about him being careless with his life.

In those ways, as Mothers, all our worries are the same.

But in other ways, they couldn’t be more different.

My worries for my white son will be the same as some of your worries for your black son.

But where my worries end, a terrifying set of worries begins for Moms raising black sons.

Worries I can’t imagine. Because I won’t have to.

Worries you shouldn’t have to imagine. But you can imagine them simply because you can’t afford not to when your son’s life is at stake.

When my son is 12 or 13 and leaves to go ride bikes with his friends, I’ll say, “Be careful.” And I’ll mean it. I’ll tell him that because cars might be going too fast and not paying attention. Or because if he falls he might hit his head. Or maybe because it will be getting dark out soon.

I’ll be thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Anticipating them before they happen.

I’ll be being a Mom.

What I won’t be doing is worrying about someone being suspicious of my son riding his bike just because he’s a white boy. I won’t worry about some resident calling the cops because they think he’s up to no good—for absolutely no reason. I won’t worry about my son getting followed by the police because a white kid stole a candy bar from a gas station & he “fits the description” just by being a white male.

But you will.

You’re a mom raising a black son, so you will be worrying about every single one of those things.

Because you know stuff like that happens. You know it happens because you’ve seen it happen. You’ve felt it happen. You’ve had it happen. To you. Or to yours.

I haven’t.

When my son is 17 and goes to a party, I will be a mess. Worried sick. Worried that he will get in the car with someone who has been drinking. Or that he’ll be hit by a drunk driver. That he will try drugs. Worried that he will be in a freak accident.

I will warn him to be smart and not drink or try anything. I will warn him not to get in the car with anyone. I’ll warn him to drive carefully because there may be drunk drivers on the road. I’ll warn him that he could be pulled over. And I will warn him that the cops could come and if he gets in trouble it could stay on his record.

I’ll be worried about all those things. I’ll be worried about my son.

It’s almost too much worry to bear. And yet we have to, because that is the nature of this thing called life. And it’s definitely the nature of this thing called Motherhood.

You’ll be worried, too. About all those things. You’ll be worried about your son, just like I’ll be worried about mine.

But you’ll also be worried about other things. Things that only Moms raising black sons have to worry about.

While I’m worrying about my son getting pulled over when a cop is suspicious he has been drinking, you’ll be worrying about your son getting murdered when they ask him to step out of the car. Which sounds—and is—completely outlandish, but it happens. While I’m worrying about the party getting busted and my son getting in trouble for being there, you’ll be worrying about your son getting killed during the bust because of what he looks like. When my son gets caught doing something he shouldn’t & takes off running, I’ll be torn up about him doing something that could’ve hurt him & I’ll be worried about him getting in trouble. You’ll be torn up, too, but you’ll be worried about your son running & getting shot in the back.

Many of my worries for my white son are the same as my fellow mama’s worries for her black son. We’re both Mothers, after all. And with Motherhood comes some of the most beautiful, strong solidarity you can imagine.

But I also realize my worries for my white son are a fraction of a mama’s worries for her black son.

A Mom raising a black son carries double the load of worry & fear for her son than I have to carry for mine.

Things I will never have to think twice about with regards to my own boy will be the very things she can never stop thinking about.

I can barely handle my own worries for my children. I’m not sure I could stomach even one extra worry, much less a whole other set.

But you do that daily. For no other reason than because your son has darker skin than my son.

That’s it. Just color. It’s nothing.

It’s nothing and yet it’s everything.

How can something that’s such a nothing change everything?

Because we have let it.

Dear Moms raising Black Sons,

I see you. I’m with you. But I know I’m not you.

And because of the extra worries and fear for your child that you have to live with daily, I wouldn’t want to be.

And that tells me everything I could ever need to know about racial injustice.

Want more on Motherhood? —> You know all about that #BOYMOM life, don’t ya? Are you a SAHM? Did you have an Unloving Mother? Have you ever yelled at your kids?

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Heads up: Check on your Mom friends with young kids, because THEIR quarantine life is hard, too. It may look like rainbows & cookies. But in between the magic, it’s hard. And maybe in a different way than yours.

I bet you can tell where I am in the picture above.

Yes, I’m in the bathroom.

And yes, I’m sitting on the toilet.

And if you’re a Mom with young kids, I bet you can tell me why I’m sitting there.

Because being a Mom with young kids is hard.

It’s totally & completely unrelenting. And sometimes escaping to the bathroom is the only way you can get a 2 minute break. And even then, it’s about 50/50 they’ll find you before you can take a breath.

(Breaking News: Dads aren’t the only ones who hide out in the bathroom. Mamas do it, too. Especially Moms with young kids.)

I recently realized that I’ve been doing myself a disservice. And I’d be willing to bet that you probably have, too. Especially if you’re a Mom who is quarantining with young kids.

I’m a Stay at Home Mom with 2 little kids. I’ve already talked about how surprised I was that being quarantined with young kids feels so much harder than just being home with young kids….home like I always am since I’m a SAHM.

For weeks, I’ve been feeling grateful & lucky that my kids are young so the pressures of school & curriculums & schedules & assignments don’t apply to them…which means they don’t apply to me, either. And I really am thankful for that. Because I can barely handle what’s already on my plate; I sure as heck don’t need another helping.

But here I’ve been thinking Moms with young kids have it so much easier than Mamas with kids who are older and thus are having to fill that school/teacher gap.

And in some ways, I think that still holds true.

But here’s what I didn’t realize at first: Social distancing with little kids is just as difficult—in a different, completely unrelenting way.

It took me about 5 weeks of being quarantined with my 2 young kids for that to hit me. But when it did, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I mean, don’t get me wrong—I’d a thousand times rather play superheroes or baby dolls or make chalk masterpieces with my kids than teach them calculus right now. No contest.

BUT there’s another element to this I’ve discounted and now I want to shout it from the rooftops for all of you Mamas with young children who are hanging on by the world’s thinnest thread some days like me:

Being a Mom with young kids right now IS extremely tough, just in very different ways than being a Mom with older children is right now (which is also extremely tough).

Newsflash: It’s not a contest. If it were, we’d all win.

So why is being a Mom with young kids so hard right now?

Because young children are completely, totally dependent on us. For food, for going to the bathroom, for getting dressed, for working through meltdowns over even the most minor of frustrations like trying to draw a T-Rex correctly. Or in my 3 year old daughter’s case, her epic meltdown because she “kept drawing her circles upside down.” And you can’t really reason with a 3 year old. When I explained that circles couldn’t be upside down because they were the same on all sides no matter how you drew them…well, let’s just say that did not help. Far from it, actually.

Young kids are bursting with energy. They want to play. Rough house. Tickle. Roll around. And just physically play. Sure they love vegging out in front of the TV, too. But then they want to DO SOMETHING.

They want to move and play. And not like dainty play. Like real play. Play play.

Their energy level is major, and the energy they require from us is major, too.

And young kids are demanding, whether they mean to be or not. Because even the most independent young child still needs us for stuff. To get something out of the panty or fridge. Or to go to the bathroom. To help pour their drink. To find something they can’t. And to fix…well, everything. Moms fix everything from booboos to block towers and a million things in between. Including broken little hearts over real stuff like missing their grandparents or friends. And over absurd stuff like the aforementioned T-Rex and circle fiascos.

The bottom line for Moms with young kids is this: they need us.

All day. Every day.

And that honestly is a lot different from older children.

Older kids who you can send to their room for hours when you just can’t Mom anymore. Older kids who want to be in their room by themselves anyway. (I am so not ready for those days. Not sure my Mama heart can take that.) Older kids who can fix themselves something to eat when they’re hungry. Or go to the bathroom by themselves.

Motherhood is hard. Whether your kids are 5 or 35, it’s hard. That part never changes. (just ask your own Mom)

What changes are the ways in which it’s hard. Moms with young kids have a different hard than Moms with older kids.

We don’t have to worry about our little kids falling in with the wrong group of friends or being exposed to something or someone dangerous online. We don’t have to make sure they don’t fall behind in school during this unprecedented closure of schools nationwide. And we don’t have to deal with teen attitudes and backtalk.

While Moms with older kids are doing all that, we’ll be playing with our tiny bosses.

Trying to come up with new things to do with them when there is literally nowhere to go & nothing new to do. We’ll be trying to help them cope with emotions much bigger than they are. We’ll be helping them go to the bathroom, all day every day. And we’ll be trying to find the time to go to the bathroom ourselves. And then when we do find a minute to pee in solitude because we go to the bathroom with a baby gate up so no one can follow us in there, we’ll be trying to drown out  “Mama Mama Mamaaaaaa” for those precious few seconds. We’ll be dealing with tantrums. Often over the most nonsensical things you can imagine.

We’ll be doing our hard while our fellow Mamas are doing theirs.

I’m not wishing any of it away. I’m fully aware our kids only need us like they do when they’re young for a few fleeting years. And that breaks my heart because I already feel the time slipping away faster than I want it to.

And I know most Mamas with older kids out there right now would switch places with us in a second. They’d jump at the chance to play pretend or make a chalk mosaic with their little kids. Or to have playing in the rain with their kids be the big thing they did that day. This time with our young children really is magical.

So, make no mistake: I wouldn’t trade where I am with my kids right now for anything in the world. I love this age and this stage.

I don’t want to trade it. But I do want to say it. Loudly.

IT. IS. HARD.

(Other Mamas think so, too. Promise.)

So check on your Mom friends with young kids. Because the quarantine life is hard for them, too. And no amount of bubbles & finger paint & bike rides can change that.

I’ve been writing a lot during this quarantine (because holy moly do I need an outlet!), so here are some social-distancing/quarantine-related things that I hope help make your isolation a little easier—or at least make you feel like you’re not alone:

A “Schedule Free” Approach to Social Distancing with Young Kids at Home

Why is Quarantine with Kids so much harder than LIFE with Kids?

Others have worn masks daily for years. Now it’s our turn.

Want more on Motherhood? —> Have you ever yelled at your kids? (like really yelled) Do you agree with me that Sometimes TV is Exactly what Our Kids Need? Or that the days ARE long & the years ARE short?

Like this post? Join MAMA’s email list to get more like this. All things MOMish—the MOMents + MOMfessions, & all the Mama Must-Haves!

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Why is quarantine with kids so hard?

Why does being home with them right now feel…so different?

I keep asking myself this. And here’s the answer.

Because, this isn’t just being home with your kids.

I’m a Stay at Home Mom and I’m always home with my kids. And yet this whole quarantine with kids thing feels completely different than our “normal” lives.

But that’s because nothing about any of this is normal.

Quarantine with kids isn’t just being home with your kids.

It’s being home with your kids with nowhere to go and no one to see and pretty much no one to talk to….except—you guessed it—your kids.

There is no school. No play dates. No playgrounds.

There are no aquariums, museums or jump places.

No restaurants.

There are definitely no date nights.

No babysitters. And for many of us, there’s not even help from Grandmom. Or other extended family members.

There are no errands.

I didn’t even realize how much joy (yes, apparently joy) and fulfillment running errands gave me until there were none to run.

It turns out that I like getting out. I like Target (I mean, obvi). And I even like the grocery store.

Who knew?

Social distancing with kids feels (and is) so much harder because not only do you have no backup or reprieve from Momming, but all of your normal places & activities are totally shut down.

And you’re wondering why quarantining with kids feels so hard?

I sure was. I was beating myself up over the fact that this somehow felt so much harder than my normal #momlife.

Like I said, I’m a SAHM so I was already used to being home with my kids all the time. And on top of that, I’m a total homebody by nature. I mean I loooove being home.

But, my kids and I love to do things together, too. Sure, we play at home all the time. But we also go on adventures together. That’s a big part of our lives. My kids are young (5 & 3), so adventures like going to “the donut factory” are big events for us (one of my mom hacks is calling Krispy Kreme the “donut factory”—try it sometime, they’ll love it).

We often go to different playgrounds to “mix it up.” And we go to the movies. Or we go to Target and hit up the dollar spot. We go to a friend’s house. Or my Mom’s house.

We stay, but we also go.

And now we can’t. That’s a lot different.

And it makes it harder. A lot harder.

It’s okay to admit that things are hard right now. Way harder than normal.

It’s like we’re living in a “Groundhog Day” reboot that we can’t seem to turn off.

And we’re all Bill Murray.

We need to stop asking ourselves why this is so much harder than normal & just own the fact that of course it is.

How could it not be?

What’s going on in our world right now is unprecedented. And all that unknown and fear seeps into every aspect of our lives.

Our only goal through this Covid-19 outbreak and quarantine with kids should be to make it through each day.

Because that’s enough.

More than enough.

I’ve been writing a lot during this quarantine (because holy moly do I need an outlet!), so here are some social-distancing with kids/quarantine-related things that I hope help make your isolation a little easier—or at least make you feel like you’re not alone:

“Schedule Free” Approach to Social Distancing with Kids at Home (we’re bucking the schedules & treating this like an early summer)

Check on the Moms with Young Kids (their quarantine life is hard, too)

Others have worn masks daily for years. Now it’s our turn.

Want more on Motherhood? —> Have you been mom-shamed? Do you agree that sometimes a little screentime is exactly what our kids need? (& we shouldn’t feel bad about that)

Like this post? Join MAMA’s email list to get more like this. All things MOMish—the MOMents + MOMfessions, & all the Mama Must-Haves!

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The mom burnout struggle is real.

Very real.

I’m sure every mama feels totally burnt out at some point. If not today, then yesterday. Or tomorrow. Or heck, every day.

It doesn’t mean you’re a bad mom if you feel like you might have mom burnout. It actually means you’re probably a rockstar mom, and giving way, way too much of yourself.

I’m only 5 years into Motherhood, and I’m not okay with being a burnt out Mama. Charred, I’ll take, but not burned.

I love Motherhood way too much to let it become a negative thing for me. I don’t want to be a super stressed, burnt out, busy mom. What I want is to be a happy mom.

We can either allow mom burnout to be our new normal or we can do something about it.

I’ve found a cure that has saved me from mom burnout. It’s made all the difference for me in my Motherhood and has helped keep me sane, happy & present even when I’m being pulled in a million different directions by a million different things and a million different people. Or by 2 small yet very demanding people. Same same.

Doing this one thing has made me more patient with my children, my husband, bills, life, the dog and more when they’re singing the never-ending “Mom, Mama, MAMAAAAA” song on repeat. Because I really do love that song. It’s actually my favorite one. But when I’ve been jamming to one song on repeat for a bit, at some point I might need to take a breath before blasting it again.

This is the one thing I wish I could tell every Mom—whether she’s a Mom-to-be, a new Mama, or a seasoned Mother—to keep her from feeling that almost inescapable mom burnout.

So what is it? Here goes:

Be selfish with your time.

Did you just roll your eyes because I made it sound like such a big deal and then it was anti-climactic because it sounds so simple? Be honest. I bet you did.

Well guess what? You’re wrong. You’re wrong because it’s a huge freaking deal. Huge. And it’s also super hard to do.

In Motherhood, your time is rarely yours. Actually, I think there’s a universal but not widely recognized time zone called MOMTIME. And all Mamas operate on it.

It’s when your time is not your own. In fact, your time belongs to pretty much everyone else but you.

Think about it. Your time is spent either with, on, or for your children.

You’re either physically taking care of them OR you’re thinking about how to take the best care of them OR you’re actively doing things like grocery shopping & registering for the next school year to…wait for it…take care of them.

And if it’s not them, it’s someone else in your life. Or something else. Honestly, how could you not have mom burnout?

Because it’s your spouse.
It’s your pet.
It’s your job.
It’s your home.
It’s the bills bills bills. (cue Destiny’s Child)
It’s your email inbox.
It’s your to do list.
It’s your to do piles.
It’s your to do rooms. (just me?)
It’s your laundry. (Well it’s really THEIR laundry, but you get my point).

It’s. Your. Life.

And life is beautiful. But life can also be so freaking busy. So busy you feel like you can’t ever sit down. So busy you feel like there’s just “never enough time.” (Be honest, how many times have you thought that? Unless you answered “a million” you might be lying.) And certainly so busy you can never find any “me time.”

And you feel like that because it’s true. Because you don’t. You don’t have enough time. Not now, and if we’re being honest, you probably never will.

And that’s normal. That’s okay. Learn to be okay with it. Don’t think it’s just you. It’s not. Every single person I know feels that way, starting with my own Mama.

Though she never let us—her children—feel it, my mom has had a textbook case of mom burnout probably since she became a Mom. As a child, I had no idea. As a mother, I see it so clearly now.

What happens with us humans is this: we have a million things on our constantly growing to-do list, and every time we might get one done, we think of 3 others to add. Some things are necessary and really do need to get done. Others are things we want to get done, sometimes for no real reason than just because we want to.

Yes we’re busy. Sometimes we do it to ourselves (hello, taking on stuff we don’t have to) and sometimes the universe does it to us (hello, thing called life.)

But either way, we don’t get a gold star for being busy. Busy doesn’t mean successful. Busy doesn’t mean important. Busy doesn’t even always mean productive. Sometimes busy is just…busy. And sometimes busy is just wasting time.

So what if I told you you could have time? Not enough time, but some time. For you. (No I’m not about to pitch you my MLM scheme, so calm down.)

Don’t want mom burnout? Be selfish with your time.

I mean like really selfish with it.

For the little bit that’s yours, hold on to it. Freaking ball that time up and hide it and don’t let anyone get to it. Not even the people you love the most.

You have to be okay with being selfish with it. That can be really hard at first. It might even seem mean. Or just impossible. But if you want it badly enough, you can make it happen.

So how do you protect your time and stop being the busy mom (& start being the happy mom)?

Welcoming to Avoiding Mom Burnout 101: Say No.

People will ask things of you. It might be your kid’s school. It might be your spouse. Or it might be your job.

Say No sometimes.

It might be your neighborhood. Or it might be your family. It might even be your children.

Say No.

When you can, Say No.

Or if you really can’t bring yourself to say “No” then try “Maybe next time.” And then rinse & repeat that until they stop asking. (#sorrynotsorry)

I have two children. A 5 year old and a 3 year old. I’m in the mom burnout trenches, so to speak. And I’m a Stay at Home Mom. My kids are here with me all day. But I don’t want that to feel like a bad thing. Because it’s honestly the most beautiful part of my life. Soon enough, they won’t be here with me during the day. (I know, I know…here comes “The days are long but the years are short” talk. But you know what? It’s true. Don’t hate.)

I’m not ready for that day. I want to enjoy my time with them while their entire world revolves around me. When I’m with them, I try hard to really be with them. To be present. And not distracted by the million things I know I need to get to.

But that got me into a pattern. A remarkably productive but also unhealthy and ultimately unsustainable pattern that helped me “do it all.”

I was trying to be fully present with my kids when they were awake but because I was getting nothing done during the day I was then using every spare second when they were asleep or not at home to do all the things for all the people. So maybe I was “doing it all,” but I was not leaving even a minute to myself.

I think we all could “do it all” if we really wanted to. But at what expense? What would that even prove? Just because we can doesn’t mean we should.

I’d work the whole time my kids napped and then they’d wake up and it’d be right back to momming (my favorite thing, btw….but every Mama needs a break) up until bedtime.

And then after the kids went down one of 3 things would happen:
1. I’d be so tired I would want to go right to sleep, but it would feel so good to sit down that I’d sit on the couch doing nothing for 3 hours and then be so mad at myself I wasted all that time…and didn’t go to sleep
2. I’d spend time with my husband whether it’d be watching The Big Bang or having one
3. I’d keep trying to catch up on everything I hadn’t gotten to, neglecting sleep, down time, my spouse & myself in the process

But whichever one I chose, I was still feeling that mom burnout. There was nothing just for me. No true down time. Not at the beginning, middle or end of the day. Not any day.

I don’t do that anymore. I started protecting my time. It has changed everything for me.

How can you kick mom burnout to the curb? I’ll say it over & over & over. Be selfish with your time. Pick a place to start. And make it yours.

Maybe it’s early in the morning. Maybe it’s your lunch time. Maybe it’s when your kid is at school. Maybe it’s after bedtime.

The first place I started with was my kids’ nap time.

Since I’m a SAHM, I’m at home with them during their naps. And I consider that nap time window absolutely sacred. For them and for me. They don’t just need it, I do. It has become MY time for myself. I do whatever I want to with it. I screen phone calls that I don’t want to take. Or I call the people I want to catch up with. I don’t answer texts. Or sometimes I catch up on 3 weeks worth of texts. I used to pay all the bills or unload the dishwasher and straighten up as soon as I put the kids down for naps. I don’t do that anymore. Unless I feel like it.

I. Do. What. I. Want.

And damn, it feels good to be a gangsta. (Or a Mama looking out for herself. Same same.)

I want to do things in my own life. Exciting things like this blog. Mundane things like cleaning out my own closet and not just everyone else’s. Selfish things like taking care of my skin. Foreign things like sitting down.

I got tired of trying to squeeze my entire adult life into a few minutes every night.

You can’t always save yourself for last, Mama. There might be nothing left.

You’ll feel tired. And beat down. And unfulfilled.

You’ll feel resentful. You’ll feel hardened. And impatient.

You’ll. Feel. That. Mom. Burnout.

And all those feelings will seep into every crack of you. And you will become unrecognizable to yourself some days. You won’t like the kind of mom that impatience & exhaustion make you be.

And you won’t like the kind of mom that mom burnout makes you be.

So change it.

Sometimes the laundry can wait. Sometimes the organizing can wait. And sometimes the grocery store can wait…one more day.

Before you say it—yes, I know, and you’re right. Sometimes it can’t.

But, you don’t have to do every single thing you feel like you need to get done right this second. Just carry those things to the next day. Heck I’ve carried some stuff over to “the next day” for a damn year. No, I don’t like having it hang over me. But I’d rather have the time. It’s a trade off I’ve come to not only tolerate, but appreciate.

Some days I do laundry at the very end of the night and don’t let it cut into my time with my kids. Other days I do laundry throughout the whole day and put on a show (or 10) for my kids because I know I want the time to myself that night. But you know when I never do it anymore? Nap time. That quiet time ain’t got no place for laundry.

Now I’m so protective of my time you’d think it was endangered.

On second thought, it kind of is.

Because most of it really does belong to your children and family. That’s the nature of having a family and being a Mom. But the time you can carve out for you? Let it be yours. Don’t let anyone get their hands on it. Even if they’re the cutest, sweetest & stickiest little child handprints.

Being selfish with my time is my cure for mom burnout.

And I am such a happier Mama for it. A happier person.

I might be behind on a million things but I don’t have mom burnout.

I’ve become so selfish with my time that if someone asks me to do something for them, it’s more of a “I’ll get to it when I get to it” than a “Sure of course let me take care of it right now.”

That is SO different from how I used to be.

Sure I might could get it done today. But I’ve been Momming nonstop and when I put the kids down for a nap I just might not want to. And I’m okay with that. It is an adjustment to be okay with that, but that adjustment feels gooooood. I’ve never been to a chiropractor but maybe that’s what it feels like. So damn good.

Everyone is short on time. That’s why we ask others to help us and do things for us…because by using their time it gives us more time. You have to be okay with not doing stuff for everyone else all the time. Not prioritizing their time over yours. That’s hard. I realize I might sound harsh.

But I’m practicing self-preservation. I’m also saving myself from mom burnout. And you should, too.

It took some growing pains, but I’m good with it now.

You don’t have to do it all. You don’t even have to do more. Just do enough.

How do YOU avoid Mom Burnout? Tell me below.

Want more on Motherhood? —> Have you yelled at your kids? Ever been mom-shamed? Are you a Mom with young kids?

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The Coronavirus is real and it’s scary. But most importantly, it’s here.

And what about “social distancing?” It matters. We’re taking it seriously. I hope you will, too.

Is social distancing & hunkering down at home extreme? Yes. Is cancelling everything extreme? Yes.

Is extreme what it’s going to take to (hopefully) curb Covid-19? Yes.

Is social distancing with kids tough? Yes…and no.

I’ll admit that at first I thought we’d have play dates with friends who are “being careful like us.” I thought wrong. That’s not enough. It won’t work. It won’t inhibit the spread of this beast of a virus.

Then I thought we’d still go to playgrounds. Wrong again. Did you know this virus can survive for days on plastic & stainless surfaces? Aka slides & monkey bars?

So then what?

Where are we during social distancing?

I’ll tell you where.

We are at home.

We are on the porch.

We are riding scooters on our dead end street.

We are in the patch of grass in front of our house because we don’t have a yard.

We are at the empty beach (we feel very blessed to have this option). And if everyone else suddenly has the same idea and it’s not an empty beach, we will go right back home.

We are snuggled up on the couch binging movies.

Or in my big bed.

We are on a bike ride.

We are on a picnic in the middle of the living room.

We are in a couch fort.

Above all, we are together.

And what are we doing during social distancing?

I’m not a homeschooling Mom. And I’m not a teacher. I’m a regular Mom (but I’d like to think I’m a cool Mom). I know sticking to a set daily schedule is a sanity-saver for many of you Mamas. Especially maybe for all of you who have jobs outside of the most demanding job of all—Motherhood.

I am a SAHM. I am thankful for that more than ever in a time like this. I know how lucky I am not to have to worry about another job right now.

And I know I might be in the minority on this, but we’re not having a schedule. I don’t really want a routine that I have to follow. We stick to a schedule(ish) when things are “normal,” but I’m throwing all that out the window right now because things are definitely not normal. Not for my kids and not for me. We are winging it and just taking each day as it comes.

So, what are we doing during this self-quarantine? I’ll tell you what.

We are doing nothing.

We are watching all our favorite shows & movies. Over & over again.

We are slowing down.

We are having pajama days. Probably every day, if I’m being honest.

We are blowing bubbles.

And when we run out of bubbles, we will play with chalk.

And when we run out of chalk, we will trace sticks in the dirt.

We are finger painting. On paper and on our bodies.

We are attempting to do crafts, even if that just means gluing together pieces of paper.

We are having dance parties.

We are turning out all the lights and playing with flashlights.

We are making rock, leaf, and stick collections.

We are having tickle fights.

We are playing in the water, whether in a kiddie pool or with our hose (that’s broken, by the way, but the kids don’t seem to care).

We are taking long baths during the middle of the day.

We are reading books together.

We are making our own books.

We are coloring.

We are cooking easy things together.

We are talking to each other. And not just “how was your day” talk. We are talking about our favorite things. Funniest memories. I’m finding out if their favorite color or best friend has changed. Or about where they think the sun is on foggy days. We are talking about the things that are important in their lives, hearts and minds. Even if it’s why their Curious George stuffed animal doesn’t have the 3 sprigs of hair he has on every show and book illustration (this was a very real & very serious conversation in our house recently).

We are eating all the fresh stuff until it runs out and then we will eat all the processed food imaginable.

We are playing.

So often as Mothers we beg for more time. “If only there were more hours in a day.” “If I could just get this done then I could sit down and play with them.” “If I can knock out these errands then we can hang out together later.”

Time is the one thing we never have enough of. And, self-quarantining and social distancing aren’t necessarily giving us more time. On the one hand, we have much less time to do all the things we need and want to do because we have zero breaks. Our kids are with us 24/7. And that’s super stressful. And hard. But on the other hand, we have more time to do all the things we always wish we could do with our kids. Things like playing.

School is cancelled. Activities are cancelled. We aren’t going out to eat or to the store. No more Target runs. The daily distractions have been temporarily removed from our lives. So in this sense, we do have more time.

So during this social distancing, stay home.

Stay separate from the rest of the world right now. We often want to do that anyways, and then when we get the chance we scoff at the idea.

I’m not scoffing. And I’m not sure I’d say I’m embracing it, either. Because all of this social distancing and self-quarantining comes from a scary place. But I am abiding by it. Because it’s the right thing to do. So I’m making the best of it.

Okay, so maybe that is embracing it now that I think about it.

We are doing everything I listed above. On our own time. Whenever we feel like it. Well, really whenever I feel like it. One day we might watch 6 movies in a row. The next we might be The Crafty McCraftersons.

Mamas, there is no right way to handle social distancing and self-quarantining during this Covid-19 outbreak.

Well, actually there is one right way: STAY HOME.

But other than that, do it however you want. Adhere to a daily schedule to save your sanity. Or throw out the schedule to save your sanity.

In addition to everything above, here are some super simple, do-able things for you to do with your young children (mine are 5 & 3 for reference) while yall are holed up at home for the foreseeable future. We will rinse & repeat these as often as we can. And want.

-Let them take long baths during the day

Seriously, let the kids take a bath when they wake up. Or mid-morning. Or in the afternoon. Don’t save it for bedtime like you usually do. And let them take a long one. Like reallyyy long. It doesn’t even matter if you bathe them. They may not need a bath. That’s not even really what it’s about. Long baths are one of my favorite mom hacks because it keeps them confined and happy and safe (obviously do not take your eyes off them). My kids love not being rushed in the bath and I love being able to sit down for over an hour and not do anything.

*Another of my favorite mom hacks is to give them a popsicle in the bath because they think it is the coolest thing ever and there is ZERO mess.

-Say “Yes” to things you normally wouldn’t

Better yet, suggest things you’re normally not down with. If you’ve ever wished you were more of a “fun mom” here’s your chance. Let them paint their bodies (with these) and then throw them in the shower. Dessert for breakfast? Sure. Making decorations for the house & taping them up everywhere? Watch them beam with pride. Going outside to play in pajamas? Yep. And stay in yours, too. Playing in the rain? Definitely, and teach them how to catch rain drops in their mouth.

-Play ice cream shop

The kids love it when I invite them to the “ice cream shop.” I put all the toppings in little bowls and let them build their own ice cream sundae.

-Play restaurant

This is something my husband did with our kids one night when I was out, and I never heard the end of it. They LOVED it. He pretended to be the waiter and took their orders (“Tonight we’re serving peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or chicken and tater tots. What would you like?”) and served them. They do it all the time now. He writes their order on a little notepad and they think it’s the greatest.

-Paint rainbow bread

This is something I only discovered recently and now it’s our new favorite thing. Get this natural food coloring delivered from Amazon (or use what you have on hand). Put the food coloring in little bowls of milk. Let them paint the bread. Either put butter & sugar on it (sugar toast, anyone?) and put it in the oven or toast it first and then spread honey on top. This is such a fun activity and doesn’t waste any of your necessary food stash (you eat the bread, and you can even let them drink the milk or make oatmeal or add it to mac & cheese, etc.)

-Gather collections

Anything can become a collection. Seriously. Anything. Pinecones, rocks, sticks, leaves, flowers. Put out some large bowls for their collections and continue to add to them during the social distancing duration. You’ll be surprised how proud they are of their collections.

-Paint rocks

And on the same token, painting rocks is one of our favorite things to do ever. I have a beautiful wooden bowl filled with their painted rocks. It’s on display at all times and I love that. Our favorite way to paint rocks is with these tempera paint crayons. They are so easy to use and so washable. They can paint the same rocks over and over again.

-Let them cook with you

If I was a Chef, I’d be something along the lines of Chef Boyardee. So let’s be real—I’m talking about doing simple things together. Like baking cookies (I use the break apart ones—that’s how simple I’m talking). One of our very favorite things to do together is make pizza biscuits. I used to do it with my grandmom and they are the most delicious things ever.  And they’re so easy & exactly what they sound like: take a can of biscuits, split them in half, add sauce + cheese + toppings (we just do black olives), cook them and then eat every last one.

-Let them watch TV

And don’t feel guilty about it. Honestly, I think TV is exactly what kids need sometimes. You like to binge watch TV. So why shouldn’t they like it, too?

-Let them work out with you

If you exercise, carve out the time to do it. Go on a bike ride, walk, run and take the kids. No, it won’t be like normal. Nothing about any of this is normal. I do yoga, and though it is definitely not relaxing or meditative to do it at home with kids climbing all over me, I can get it done-ish.

-Have a long daily quiet time

As long as possible. If your kid naps, great. If your kid doesn’t nap anymore, enforce quiet time. YOU NEED THIS TIME. Sure they do, too. But not as much as you.

My son “is trained” (but for real tho) to stay in his room for quiet time while his sister naps. That time to me is a life saver. I can rest or I can scroll the internet or I can do all the laundry. Whatever I want to do. It’s MY time. You need to make a section of the day be YOUR time, Mama. Otherwise, you will be burnt out in about oh, I don’t know, a day. (In general, this is my Mom burnout cure.)

If your kids won’t stay in their room then don’t feel guilty about putting on a movie or the 90 minute “5 Little Monkeys” compilation and telling them they get their “own time.” I have more success when I do it that way & make it fun for them versus when I say “I have to work, I need you to give me some time to myself.”

But usually I end up saying both because #momlife.

Mamas, hang in there. Social distancing with kids is hard, no matter how you cut it.

As with most things in life, a lot of making it through this with your sanity intact boils down to perspective. Sometimes we have to force a perspective shift.

And just for the record, making it through this with your health intact boils down to respecting social distancing and the seriousness of Covid-19.

We need do the best we can, not just for ourselves. But for the sake of everyone else, too.

If there is ever a time when what you do matters, it’s now.

People might say it’s an overreaction. But let me say this. We might not know if we overreact, but we will certainly know if we underreact.

Stay safe and sane, Mamas. And smart. ♥️

I’ve been writing a lot during this quarantine (because holy moly do I need an outlet!), so here are some social-distancing with kids/quarantine-related things that I hope help make your isolation a little easier—or at least make you feel like you’re not alone:

Why is Quarantine with Kids so much harder than LIFE with Kids?

Check on the Moms with Young Kids (their quarantine life is hard, too)

Others have worn masks daily for years. Now it’s our turn.

Want more on Motherhood? —> Are you a SAHM? Are you Scared to Fly since Becoming a Mom? Or worried about your child choking? (my child choked)

Like this post? Join MAMA’s email list to get more like this. All things MOMish—the MOMents + MOMfessions, & all the Mama Must-Haves!

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I’m a Mom and I’m scared to fly.

Actually, I’m scared to fly since becoming a Mom.

I know what you might be thinking. Who wouldn’t be scared to fly with little kids? But that’s not it at all.

I’m not scared to fly with my kids, I’m scared to fly without them.

I know, I know. In what world does that make sense?

Answer: Mine. In my world.

I’ve traveled all over the place. I count my opportunities to see this world as some of my luckiest moments. Being exposed to new people, new places, new languages, new culture, new food…it’s incredible.

I love traveling.

What I don’t love is flying.

I’ve never loved it. It’s always been a means to an end for me. With my travel destination being the end. But since becoming a Mother, I’ve developed an almost crippling fear of flying. I’m scared it’s going to be the means to a different type of end.

I’ll just come right out with it. I’m scared of my plane crashing. Truthfully, I’m not just scared to fly, I’m scared to die.

Because I love my children. Because I love being a Mother. And because I have SO much to live for since having them.

People usually think my hesitancy to travel since becoming a Mom is about my children. But it’s mostly about me.

I’m not worried about my kids being okay while I am away on a trip. I know they’ll be in the best hands ever. Capable, loving, family hands. Family members who are so in tune with them and their safety & well-being that I don’t think twice about leaving them. I know they’ll be okay.

I just don’t know if I’ll be okay.

And I don’t mean in terms of missing them. Cue all the “Oh you’ll miss them but it will feel good to get away” comments. I know how good it will feel to get away. To have a break. To avoid mom burnout. And of course I will miss them—they’re my babies! All hail FaceTime for making it possible to see their precious faces from halfway across the world. And I’m sorry if seeing Mama & Daddy makes it harder on whoever is taking care of them (shout out to my Mom & Sis!), but this Mama’s gotta see her babies.

As much as I adore my children and just Motherhood in general (I’m a SAHM & think being a Mother is what I was born to do), every time I travel it is so refreshing. It feels good to play hookie. I love connecting with my husband, whether it be for a night out or a week away. It’s nice to have regular conversations instead of the fractured sentences we try to finish every few minutes but never quite do. Also, morning sex.

It’s nice to have a breather but, inevitably, by the end of every trip I am absolutely dying to see them. So yes, I’ll miss them.

[click_to_tweet tweet=”But my anxiety is not about missing my children. It’s about missing out on them.” quote=”But my anxiety is not about missing my children. It’s about missing out on them.” theme=”style7″]

I’m the Mom who doesn’t want to miss a single moment of my kids’ lives. I want to soak up every hug, every snuggle, every little handprint. So the thought of missing all the moments unravels me to my core. It utterly destroys me.

I don’t want my children to grow up without a Mother.

Actually, let me say that differently—I don’t want them to grow up without ME.

Because that’s what I really mean.

Believe it or not, I’m not an anxious person. I’m actually a pretty practical person.

But mostly, I am a feeling person. I have a lot of feelings. About a lot of things. And they aren’t easily ignored.

My fear of flying is one of these feelings.

And that feeling is strong. Crippling even. The “cars are so much more dangerous” argument doesn’t help me at all. The statistics that are completely in my favor don’t make an iota of difference to me. The “airplanes are so safe” facts have zilch effect. The pilot neighbor who has piloted planes his entire life coming over to sit on my porch at my husband’s request to explain how safe flying is doesn’t work for me. (Okay, that one worked a little because I was able to grill him on things like drunk pilots that you read about in the news, etc…but not enough to alleviate my fear). And God Forbid don’t you dare tell me “everything happens for a reason.” Because I’m a firm non-believer in that and I honestly think it is a terrible thing to say to people (more on that in another post).

If a plane crash is in the news, I can’t stop reading about it. I’m almost obsessive, trying to figure out what went wrong, was it human or mechanical error, what could have been done to save the plane and thus everyone in it, etc. My husband says I torture myself by doing that. I clap back that I just want to be knowledgeable about it. He’s not wrong. But neither am I.

When you’re as scared to fly as I am, you worry when they say something’s not working and you worry when they say it’s fixed (because, is it?!).

I know, it’s completely ridiculous.

When I’m in the airport calmly (on the outside—inside I’m a wad of nerves) waiting to board and I hear the dreaded “Flight XXXX has been delayed,” my entire body tenses. And if it’s for a technical issue—my inner shit just hit the fan. I have conflicting feelings because on the one hand, thank you Jesus that they caught it. But on the other hand, I worry they’ll do a quick bandaid type fix. I get suspicious my HVAC guy might not fix my air unit right. You don’t think I worry about this supposedly expert aviation tech team that knows how to fix all the problems on all the planes all the time?

I DO.

My husband is a physician. Since I’ve become scared to fly he always suggests that I take Xanax or something to ease my anxiety. My response is always the same: “I want to be alert.”

I know that sounds crazy. But hear me out.

IF something were to happen with our flight, I want to be 100000% on my A game. In the event of an emergency landing, I want to be able to spring into action. If someone has evil intentions, I want to be prepared. I want to know where the exit rows are. And I want to be ready. I don’t want to be hazy. <Insert my husband’s exasperated sigh as I explain this to him—yet again—here.>

I listened to & watched the Flight Attendant Safety Demo intently on my first flight as a junior in college. And I’ve half-heartedly listened since then, but never at full attention (except when Delta had that cheeky video one).

But you know who tunes into the Flight Safety Talk like their life depends on it (because it could)?

Moms who are scared to fly since having kids.

You better believe I want to know if the bottom of my seat is the flotation device, where my closest exit is, and not to worry if my oxygen mask doesn’t inflate because oxygen is still flowing. Tell me more, Plane Safety Gods. I want to know it all.

I assess the people around me. Gauge how they might hold up in a crisis situation. She looks strong. He looks able-bodied. Ooh, he looks weak. She looks too relaxed.

When the “Seat belts fastened” light unexpectedly dings, my mind goes into overdrive. “Does the pilot know something we don’t?” OF COURSE THE PILOT KNOWS SOMETHING I DON’T. The pilot knows a million things I don’t. The physics of flying. Aerodynamics. The weather at the current altitude. Air pockets. The route. To. Name. A. Few.

And no, I don’t want to fly separately from my husband, though I absolutely understand why many couples do that. I get it and it’s honestly probably the smart thing to do. But selfishly, it doesn’t really make me feel any better. In fact that would just layer on the worry because then I’d have to worry about his plane, too. And God I love that man.

But, here’s the clincher. This is where it gets (or I get?) even crazier.

I would be more okay if I had my kids with me on the plane.

I KNOW IT.  <face palm>

How can I be so scared to fly when my kids aren’t with me but magically unafraid when they are?

It makes no sense. But it’s the truth.

I’d feel so much more okay if I was sandwiched between my children on every flight, holding their little bodies close and feeling all that love. That seems unusual coming from someone who is so scared to fly. Morbid even. Like “I’m terrified to fly unless my kids are with me.” Wait, what?

I never let myself go this far into it because even grazing past these thoughts crumples me, but for the sake of this post I will delve into it one time and one time only.

If I really break it down I think it’s because it’s a Mother’s instinct to protect her young, especially in an emergency (like the scariest moment of my life when my child choked). And holding my kids close to me & then springing into the Supermom action hero makes me feel safer.

And to go even deeper, I also think it’s because I want to hold them until the very end. My end. And if I’m alone on a flight and something happens, they’re so far away. I can’t hold them and tell them how much Mama loves them until my very last breath.

I’m scared to fly because I don’t want to die.

That’s what it all boils down to. And I know there are a million ways to die, but planes really scare me. Though anything that could take me away from my children, or vice versa, scares me to death.

If you could guarantee me that I’d get to my destination and back home safely, I’d never bat an eye about hopping on a plane and flying across the world. I really do love traveling.

My husband is scared to fly since becoming a parent, too. But he says he doesn’t want to be paralyzed by fear or let it stop us from living our lives.

I remind him he wouldn’t feel that way if we didn’t make it back.

He agrees.

We traveled a bunch before having children. I traveled 5 months pregnant with my first. We traveled after having our son. I traveled 5 months pregnant with my second. And I’ve traveled since having her. Each time it’s harder and harder. At this point it’s edging near impossible for me.

No trip is worth the risk of not being here for and with my kids. And yet here I am thinking about taking that risk. Sure, I have a wonderful trip to gain. But I have everything to lose. Everything. Putting it like that makes me wonder how I could even consider it. And yet here I am. Considering it.

Year after year, trip after trip. Considering it. Risking it. Everything.

So what do we do? Those of us scared to fly since having children? Do we stay put and never travel again? Or do we take that risk, ignore our fear of flying, and get on the plane?

I’m supposed to fly soon. Very soon.

And far. Very far.

I bought “Gold Package” travel insurance just in case my babies get sick. Or we get sick. Or in case I just can’t step foot on the plane. (ding ding ding)

Where do we stand on teleporting these days? Sheldon? Elon Musk? Richard Branson? Anybody?

Are you scared to fly since becoming a Mom, too? Tell me in the comments. And if you have any tips for fear of flying, please help a scared Mama out & give me those, too!

Want more on Motherhood? —> Are you a Stay at Home Mom? Has your child choked? (mine did) Have you been mom-shamed?

Like this post? Join MAMA’s email list to get more like this. All things MOMish—the MOMents + MOMfessions, & all the Mama Must-Haves!

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