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The Year of Mom: My Happy Parenting Resolutions

The Year of Mom: My Happy Parenting Resolutions

While most of you are lamenting the year 2016, no fear! This is the last day! So, what will we do with this gift of the new year?

I know most moms are like me and asleep before the New Year’s Eve countdown even begins. That doesn’t mean that we can’t resolve to do some new things next year. I know most moms have weight loss and wild-eyed attempts at giving up our slew of addictions, let’s try and be realistic. Those pre-baby skinny jeans might just be a pipe dream, but here are a few of my realistic resolutions you might want to try on for size.

  1. Take time to scream. You know how motherhood can sometimes bubble over into a rage fueled screech-off in the YMCA parking lot? No? Either way, let’s try to take time to ourselves to scream into a stuffed animal while we get our 5 minutes to poop each day. Not only will we be scarring our children less, we also might avoid a pesky call from CPS.
  2. Eat real food. Now, this might be a stretch, but I need to eat actual meals. Ones that’s main source of protein doesn’t come from a beef stick. Now that my twins are a smidge less needy, I’m going to resolve to at least order foods that don’t have cartoon cowboys on their labels.
  3. Less Pinterest. Not because I have an addiction, no, because Pinterest makes me feel like an epic failure of a mother. It also gives me insatiable hunger that leaves me sleeping in a pile of Oreo crumbs. Also, it will save me tons of money from those wasted ingredients I buy and leave in my fridge while I eat jerky.
  4. Have people over. Maybe 2018 will be the year I leave the house more, but 2017 needs human interaction too. I need to accept the fact that my house is an absolute shit hole and have other messy moms over to snuggle my exploding laundry baskets and drink coffee. I love friends. I need friends. SOMEONE BE MY FRIEND!
  5. Stop picking at my husband. When you have no friends and sit with kids all day, something needs to be your rage outlet. I need to stop making that be my husband. The poor guy literally flinched when I reached in the cupboard the other day in fear I was going to sucker punch him. Again, maybe having other women to vent to about his inability to clean a toilet will take a little bit of the strain off him. Maybe…
  6. Do things that make me happy. I adapted this life rule towards the end of 2016 and it was the best decision I have ever made. I am no longer going to beat myself up over things that don’t matter. I am going to write because I love it. I’m going to watch movies with my kids because it makes me happy. I’m not going to wear bras most days because, duh. Happiness is something I need to function as a mother and wife. I’m sick of feeling like I am last on the list of things that need attention. I can’t pour from an empty cup.

So, here’s to the New Year. May your meltdowns be few, your bellies be full and your husbands be less afraid of you. Not completely unafraid, we have reputations to uphold, ladies.

What’s your plans for 2017? Let me know in the comments!

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Happy Parenting is this mom's New Year's Resolution |

Undomesticated Goddess: Learning How to Adult

Undomesticated Goddess: Learning How to Adult

I lack life skills. I don’t know what happened in my life that made me unable to adult, but somewhere along the way when everyone else was learning how to take care of adult things and be responsible, I remained in the infancy stage.


For normal adults, college would have been a time to be “dropped in the deep end” of life and it’s sink or swim. I chose to float. While I managed to finish four years of school on my own, I did so by paying people to do things I didn’t or couldn’t do. I’m not just talking changing my oil or raking leaves. I paid my best friend countless times to clean my bedroom, organize things and wash dishes. My entire junior year I was too idiotic/lazy to fix my bed so I slept on a gangster lean smashed against my wall.


I flat out refused to give in to the notion that I was going to have to grow up. I gambled on my chances of finding a man that would (hopefully) be a prince and I would have a full staff to get me through my day-to-day. Well, this week marks six years since my husband and I met and it has been nothing short of unglamorous.


My husband told me even before we met that he had no man skills. He told me he doubted his ability to even hang a picture. He quickly became aware that my homemaker skills were about on par with his carpentry skills. Maybe not immediately, but when my cleaning lady showed up, he got the message.


We lived that first year in a bubble of bliss. We worked, came home to a clean home (thanks to my maid), ordered whatever delivery meal we wanted and however much we wanted and thought we had this grown-up thing all figured out. Our fridge held one half-full bottle of margarita mix and our cupboards had one lone, dusty box of Hamburger Helper. We were helpless.


Then kids happened.


The remaining five years of our relationship have been a vicious wake-up call. We spent a long time pretending we still didn’t have to face the music. Our beds didn’t have sheets. Our grass was 14 inches tall. When things broke we threw them out. That was about all we could handle. It was all too much! Where is my maid?! What happened to Pizza Hut every night?! How does this oven turn on?!


But, after many burnt dinners, lots of calls to our family, and endless amounts of tears, we teamed up and shit got handled. I don’t know where or when but this week I looked around and saw that we actually resembled adults. Our bed is made with actual sheets that are actually clean. Our dryer broke and instead of throwing it on the curb and heading to Sears like we did with our washing machine, my husband fixed it. All.On.His.Own. Like, with tools and everything.


What is happening?!


We have a family calendar. We own a weed eater (and use it). While, I miss my maid more than I miss my perky breasts, she is no more. I clean the top AND bottom of the toilet (who knew?). I’m an adult! He’s an adult!


We are doing it.


Who knows, in another six years, maybe we can learn how to change our own oil? The possibilities are endless.


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