It was the last day of summer break and I wanted to do something with my kids. I wanted to give them some undivided attention. Something to break up the monotony of being on their screens all day.
Yes, that’s right. I’m writing a blog post about how I was going to write a tutorial, but was too lazy to even attempt to make the thing.
I know little kids shouldn’t have any screen time at all. But I stand by this statement.
These last two weeks have been the worst weeks of my entire life. Yes, I’m being vague. No, I’m not going to tell you what’s been going on. It’s personal and private and It’s going to stay that way. BUT, suffice it to say I had literally NOTHING to give to my kids this past couple of weeks.
“I’ve read a couple of articles lately admonishing parents not to tell little white lies in front of their kids, for fear that they will learn that lying is acceptable. I not only tell some falsehoods in front of my kids, but I also teach them that it’s OK if they have to do it […]
Self care. It’s a weird phrase. It sounds a little selfish or narcissistic to be throwing around a phrase like that all the time, but it’s something I’m developing a deep belief in. Self care is essential for everyone, especially moms. My whole life I looked forward to being a mom. But when I got […]
To be fair, I didn’t do this of my own volition. I was coerced into it by my therapist.
I love love love babies and kids and have always wanted to be a mother.
Ever since I became a mom 17 years ago, I’ve had an unofficial list of ideals that never actually materialized. I thought these mom ideals would make me and my kids happy. But I’ve realized over the years that these elusive “shoulds” aren’t really necessary to raising healthy, happy, children.
This week what I did right was this: I swallowed my pride and let my teenage son dunk me in the pool (well, try to). Even though I didn’t want him to mess up my hair or makeup.