imperfectly authentic
Hey there, Mama. Are you doing okay? You look like you could use a friend. What is it that’s giving me such an impression? It’s that I recognize the heavy look on your face. You do wear it well; I want you to know that. And, come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I…
To the 20-something-year-old taking a selfie in the driver’s seat of the car behind me: I almost judged you, but then I realized I once was you. When I looked back and saw you adjusting your arm level and camera height and playing with your car’s AC so that when the air hit your hair,…
This one is for the mamas who can hang. You know who you are. You are the ones who should be breaking but refuse to crumble. You are the ones who have or continue to struggle to conceive. You are the ones whose own health took a hit during pregnancy and delivery. You are the…
And on the seventh day, God made Target. Wait. That’s not right. I should have paid more attention in religion class. Oops. Good thing God knows that I love Him and I surely know that He loves me (and my humor). Since my version is all I can recite, we will go with that; just…
“Slow down,” my husband tells me. “Think about what you are doing before you do it.” “Focus.” Each one of those meant-to-be-constructive comments of his is met with my disdain. Every single time they leave his mouth with the intent of making their way to my ears, and inside my brain where they are expected…
I am admittedly a no-mess mommy, and I’m not proud of it. For someone who has a tough time keeping my bathroom, closet, car, and purse clean, I’d assume myself to have a slightly higher tolerance for messes made by my children — but, I don’t. I’m a hypocrite; it’s a fact. While I have…
Mom radar is real and it’s freakin’ me the fudge out. I know it sounds a bit tongue in cheek, but I swear my child has some sixth sense that tells her I’ve stepped into the shower and gotten fully lathered, sat down on the coach and looked too comfortable, or crawled into bed and…
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