Your AC bill is through the roof because you are constantly hot and sweaty. Your pregnancy pillow gets more action than your husband. You have more "accidents" than a newly potty-trained toddler.
My scars tell stories of childhood folly, poor judgment, and horrible luck. My hope is that these stories will someday make the leap from "bar anecdotes" to "teachable moments for my children."
Appropriate: Where's your nose? Inappropriate: Where's your nose? Can you not smell yourself? Whew.
"What do you mean you haven't seen that movie/heard that song/checked out that new TV series yet? It's been out for three weeks!"
No two days with your child are ever alike. And, once you've been in the thick of a developmental stage and think you have something finally figured out, your kids go and change on you.
It's so easy to get caught up in your adult world and tunnel vision and not give a crap about anything but what you need to do next. A 2-year-old is going to get you to stop and enjoy the smaller things in life.
There's a woman who looks like a working mother -- she has a determined walk, but SEEMS a little lost. Don't we all. I wonder if she has the secret sauce to doing this every day, 'cause I sure as hell don't. I want to ask her how she does it.
Full of flailing toddler or thrashing infant, or a sobbing, collapsing heap of both. Full of tears and snot and deep breaths and deep hugs.
It's okay to admit your kid is an a**hole sometimes. It's okay to hate being a parent sometimes. And it's okay to hate your baby. Let's face it: babies suck.
I may not have time to do elaborate crafts at home or be president of the PTA, but my kids don't care about those things, anyway. What matters to them is that I enjoy being with them, that I care to know all about them, and that I love them.
When she says she's not getting much sleep, tell her, "I could tell by looking at you."
In all seriousness, hearing my son repeat me -- seeing myself reflected in him and his foul, remorseful mouth -- made me think about what I'm communicating and what I'm not when I constantly say, "I'm sorry."
Our greatest victories in life come from those for whom we've worked the hardest. And that is why I will always be a mother first. Because it tells the world I am a warrior.
I do not want my daughter on the body roller coaster her mother has ridden for 30 years. I can't control it, but I can contribute positively. Part of that contribution is to wear what I love in front of her, and I've always loved bikinis.
Here are just some of the totally NORMAL things that you are likely to do.
Let the waves come, murmur a seafaring song, and know this: in any moment of new motherhood that is rough going for you, there are countless like you; there are also others for whom that very same moment was transcendent and amazing (and you'll probably hear all about it).