Boyd Meets Girl

I never knew motherhood would bring so many tears. Sure, it was assumed (acknowledged as a truth although never fully processed, funny how that seems to happen a lot when it comes to things you’ve heard about parenting) there would be plenty of tears from babies turned toddlers turned threenagers turned basically college graduates. But tears of my own? Never thought of it, really. Indeed, I give both of my children a run for their money in the tear department. Daily, at the absolute minimum, tears of my own well up in my eyes and eventually roll down my cheek a time or two before it’s on to the next thing, and the necessity to dry it up and move along is abundantly clear. And as we are in the absolute throws of threenagerness, an abundance of questioning follows consistently behind my trail of absolute raw emotion. Most of the time, eerily gentle, almost as if she is far older and in tune than her little 3 year old self could possibly be, comes a little whisper, sometimes accomp...

Guys, you know how I am. I tell it like I see it. And these days, I see a LOT of two things: asshole adults and asshole kids who will grow up to be asshole adults. Not raising an asshole requires work , so if you aren't interested in some blood, sweat and tears, then close your browser, and don't forget to write a rude comment on your way out. Let me preface this by saying: these suggestions are being made from my professional side, not my parenting side--- let's be real, the verdict is still out on whether my kids will grow up to be assholes or not (just kidding... over my dead body will they be entitled, dependent adults)... but still, the important distinction of point-of-view needs to be mentioned. Here are some ways not to raise an asshole: 1) Teach them how to do stuff. You know how kids don't come with an instruction manual? Well, neither does growing up. Kids learn from example how to do almost everything - show them how to do things! Don't just...

Oh, bath time. When I just had one kiddo, it was actually enjoyable to bathe her regularly and relatively drama-free. My oldest loved to play in the water and only cried about getting out or pooped in the bathtub occasionally. Enter second child. Enter extreme sleep deprivation and being overwhelmed. All the sudden bath time wasn't so much fun anymore. 9 months into being a mother of two, I can say with confidence that bath time is more like the bath time I used to love and cherish - enjoyable! But not without the help of a handful of products that really make bath time more enjoyable and safe for both me and my sweet little angels. As a mom, I'm constantly looking for products that make my life easier and keep my kids safe.  Without further adieu, here are some of the best (in my opinion) products for bath time! (disclaimer: some of the links provided are affiliate links, which will result in a small amount of compensation to help fund my freelance writing efforts if cli...

Dear disgruntled mama.... Dear disgruntled mama, who cusses (sometimes not very quietly either) in response to her 5:30am alarm clock who WILL NOT SNOOZE, both literally and figuratively. Dear disgruntled mama, who has set her personal aspirations and cleanliness aside for the last however many years while she cares for littles ones and makes their dreams hers. Dear disgruntled mama, who has yelled more in the last year than she ever thought she would in a lifetime. Dear disgruntled mama, who puts her frustrations inwards because there is no more room for it on the outside. Dear disgruntled mama, who wants to murder the next person who asks her "how do you do it all?" because like you have a choice. Dear disgruntled mama, who wonders when and if there will ever be a day again where she can sit down on the couch and truly be "done" for the day. Dear disgruntled mama, who longs for some time away but knows that even that time away would never be the same...

Colic. Fussy baby. Crying all the time. Needy baby. Spoiled baby. WHATEVER you want to call it, if you have a baby who is fussy A LOT then you know how hard it is. I, with a 4 month old who has been described as all of the above, am speaking from experience here. It is not fun. But, from what I read anyway, it goes away. Hopefully by the time she is 18 years old. Lord, help me. I actually hate the term "colicky." It doesn't really tell you WHAT the problem is. Just that there is one and that is supposedly goes away. I'm a problem solver. If there is a problem, I want to solve it. (Check out my hook while the DJ revolves it)... Really, from all that I have read and heard, the best "cure" for colic is time - which is the hard part. Because let me tell you, these months have been long and frustrating, and I'm only assuming that there are more months to come. Here are some tips that I have gathered in my desperate search for relief from the colicky baby. ...

I never thought I would be that parent . That parent who yelled . Not that I have something against raising my voice, but I never thought I would be a yeller. But I am. And I am sorry. I'm sorry I yelled. I'm sorry I yelled when you fought your diaper changes. I'm sorry I yelled when you wouldn't stop crying. I'm sorry I yelled when you wouldn't go to sleep. I'm sorry I yelled when you made a mess.  I'm sorry I yelled when I couldn't get dinner on the table before you were hungry. I'm sorry I yelled because I had to get to work, and we were running late. I'm sorry I yelled when you couldn't find your shoes.  I'm sorry I yelled when you didn't want to be in your car seat. I'm sorry I yelled when you wouldn't sit in the buggy at the grocery store. I'm sorry I yelled when you whined. Incessantly. I'm sorry I yelled when you came in to "help" when I was getting your little sister t...

So, I kinda knew I was going to freak out when I had my second daughter. A) I don't deal with any change very well and B) the freak out from having my first daughter just 21 months prior was too fresh on my mind to ignore. I wrote about it ( read it here ); I asked for tons of advice. Come April 2015, I braced myself and experienced the inevitable: complete (but manageable) chaos for basically 4 months straight. Some people have easy kids. That's great! These must be the same people who can eat whatever they want and not gain weight, never get sick during pregnancy, and have kids that slept through the night when they were 2 days old. Although so thankful for my little cherubs, my kids aren't what I would categorize as "easy." Probably a good thing or I'd want to add more little soldiers to our army. Being the Type A personality that I am, I have always felt the need to be prepared. I did my research and made a list of what I thought that I needed for my ...

HUGE GINORMOUS DISCLAIMER: Please read this before you read anything else. This post wouldn't even exist if I didn't wholeheartedly believe that breast is best. So, this is not a formula vs. breastfeeding debate. Nor is it a discussion on which is better, easier, more natural, whatever. It is simply my personal manifestation on why I chose to breakup with breastfeeding. I chose the wording on this very carefully. I chose "breaking up" because, for me, breastfeeding was all about the emotions. All the feels. My self expectations on what it meant to be the best mother I could. The visions I had of lovingly nursing my little cherub(s) and knowing that their weight gain, their thriving, their BEING was all a result of ME and MY super milk. I don't think that formula is bad or else I would never give it to my children. So, here goes my story..... With my first daughter, I was bound and determined to nurse her. I had my pump rip roaring and ready to go at, like...

If you are looking for a positive spin on motherhood, you might want to stop reading right now. This post is for the mom who might have hid in the bathroom earlier today so she didn't have to share HER snack. This post is for the mom who quietly whispered "f$%^" as she heard her kid waking up at 5:30 am in the morning to start the day for the third time this week. In general, I pride myself in attempting to be a pretty positive person; I write blog posts like this one on positivity and this one on turning mommy guilt into mommy mantras . I try to extend this attitude to my parenting as well. For the most part, I think I do a pretty decent job of being a happy mom. But, dangit, some days are just hard. Some days, you feel isolated, alone, and stressed to the max. Some days, you would welcome an overnight stay at the closest looney bin because you wonder if you  really are crazy (plus it would be a night of interrupted and possibly medicated sleep- yessss!). Good ...