I buy Cheetos.

I am a professional.

I am a student.

I am a teacher.

I am a mom.

I am real.

....and I am tired.

I picked up fast food twice for my kid this week... Guess what, she's still alive (gasp).

I have one child. A beautiful, spunky, witty, squirrel-of-a-four-year-old, who is absolutely the center of my world. I worry every day that I am screwing her up. I worry about her health, her happiness, her adaptability, her temperature, her calorie intake, her social status, her number of stuffed animals in the bed... 

Being a mom is hard and some days it flat out sucks. So why in the world do women promote fake motherhood? Being frustrated is a natural feeling. It means you are trying over and over to be good at something. Nobody is handed a baby and thinks "Wow, this is so easy, I am so good at this, I can't wait to show off how good I am." If this describes your mothering style, well then, go ahead and click that little x or red button at the top corner of your browser because this blog ain't for you.

Sometimes I think that If I hear "mommy" one more time I'm going to burst. I frequently pretend to be sleeping when I hear her make an appearance at my bedside at 3 am. The word "shit" slips out of my mouth sometimes. We listen to a top 40 pop radio station in the car because she likes it. She's never worn a helmet. I say "you're killing me smalls" at least twice a day. I buy Cheetos. When necessary, I spank. She sleeps with the light on. She cartwheels in my living room. I am not ashamed. 

I look at the last 5 years of my life, and If I could do anything over again, I would. I would have put the parenting books down, I would have never watched "a baby story", I would have waited to move her from her crib to a bed a while longer, I would have pulled out another pacifier and smiled when people gave judgmental looks at my (happy) paci-sucking toddler, I would have never read the blog on clean eating and your baby...or the one about exclusive breastfeeding... or the one about underweight babies... and I would have fed my kid whatever I was eating as soon as possible. 

Mistakes.

I have made plenty, and I'm sure I'll continue to make more, and I'm proud of that. I am good at a ton of this motherhood stuff... I make a mean pot of macaroni and cheese, I can hide greens in pizza sauce, I can teach a 3 year old to ride a bike without training wheels, and I am an excellent couch snuggler. And most importantly, I am extremely proud of my girl-the-squirrel.

No more beating ourselves up. I am done comparing my style of parenting with the parenting dystopia of Pinterest and Facebook. You can not convince me those people are real. "Hey you.. lady who posted about your backyard-garden-grown-organic-veggie-home-made-baby food and your perfectly-porcelain-ribbon-wrapped-baby bump..you suck." My stomach looks like I got into a shirtless knife fight with a piranha. True story.

We have got to embrace the mistakes we make, laugh at our kids, and stop comparing ourselves to the minority, no-stretch-marks, super(ficial)mom. This blog will be an outlet, a relief, and a bit of humor for us regular folks. I'm excited to see where it goes.

My squirrel told me in the car not too long ago, "When I'm big Mom...(pause for effect).. I can say shit." I smiled and told her, "You're right sweetie, when you're big, you can."
True Story.