Here it comes, the quintessential exhausted mother verbal vomit: I think we’re transitioning out of the ‘likes being swaddled when he sleeps’ stage. (That knowing, empathetic groan y’all just made collectively? I heard it from here. Thank you.) It’s a really good thing he’s cute.
I will always remember how hard it was to find the first stretch marks in the shower. I’m sure my abdominal muscles don’t even know what the word ‘tight’ means anymore. I wear two sizes larger clothes than I did when I got pregnant with OBoy in 2008. My confidence slips out from under me whenever I… Read more »
whoosh. the sun is streaming in, the swaddled baby burrito is stirring, and I don’t know how long DanO has been gone for work already. thunk thunk thunk. OBoy is at his door, asking for it to be morning. morning, Mommy? yes. morning. he can open his door now, he’s so big and strong, but… Read more »
Prologue: What I do, what I did, and what you do matters. It does. If all I ever did was feed, change, hold and burp a baby but I did it with love, it would be far more than enough. I know that. This is not about that bigger picture. This is about surviving the day… Read more »