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Category Archives: Mommy Stuff
A Mediocre Mom’s New Year’s Resolutions
A new year brings a fresh start, a clean slate, and the inevitable New Year’s resolution to be better or do better…at something. Maybe you want to be more active, to floss more often, to eat healthier, or quit smoking; whatever it is, you’re making a promise to yourself to achieve the goal, the ideal, the perfect version of yourself.
Dear Santa: Lose the Elf on the Shelf…A Parent’s Christmas List
Dear Santa:
So, here we are again. Christmas time. A time of generosity, warmth and love. And presents, and malls, and Santa pictures, and creepy Elves on Shelves and entitled children, and crowds, and over-priced wrapping paper, and Christmas baking, and mess, and … *sigh*
As is tradition with most parents, the house is gradually being transformed into a half-assed version of the holiday home decor posts we see on Pinterest. We listen patiently to our kids’ long list of unreasonably priced toys they want,no…need to have. We brave the crowded malls, searching and snatching up every trinket we can find. We buy the baking supplies and Christmas cookie cutters for an afternoon of keeping our mucus-munchers from eating raw shortbread batter, or “baking”. And after a whole month of trying to “make memories” for our booger bandits, we’re exhausted, deflated, and quite frankly, hung over from Christmas with very little show for it. That’s not what the holiday season is supposed to be about.
Baby G and XXXXY Syndrome: Toxic Thoughts of a Special Needs Parent
When it comes to being a parent, we all tend to think that we’re not doing enough, that our punishments are too harsh, that our voices are too loud, or our fuses too short. When it comes to being the parent of a kid with special needs, every so often, we also think other thoughts that are even less rational than that. But first, an update on the G-Man.
How I Knew I Had Postpartum Depression
Postpartum depression is the single hardest thing I’ve ever had to contend with in my life. Don’t get me wrong, giving birth was no picnic either, but having my recovery sabotaged by a dirty little mental illness just made everything so much harder. Postpartum depression is a sneaky little bastard that creeps up on you when you least expect it. It hides in and among your already-raging hormones, stealthily camouflaging itself, praying not to get caught.
But I did. I caught that bugger red-handed, treated it and now I’m the best mom I can be.
Niagara Mommy 