Random Thoughts From My Twitter Hiatus.

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Woke up with my back feeling like I’m 85 years old. Did I get kicked by a horse? Or a toddler?

I don’t insist on many things as a mom, but you HAVE to give me a few moments to rip the bong before grocery shopping. HAVE to.

Husband hustled like a boss last night. Treat yo’ self funds for the whole family! Aka candy at the store.

I can’t be the only one semi excited for the Independence Day sequel, right?

If I let little dude play in the front seat while I adjust his carseat, it’s like wrestling a wild bear to put him back in it when we leave.

Hubs referred to himself as “hub” last night in a txt. He’s never allowed to make fun of me for it again.

You can make fun of me all you want, but I watch enough Housewives to start a trivia gameshow about it. I’d win EVERY SINGLE ROUND.

Just spent ten minutes staring at various outfits to dress little dude in. I’m definitely not stoned. Definitely not.

Why do I have a bunch of songs from Clueless stuck in my head? Probably because I’ll love that movie forever and always.

I hope my son knows I need him probably more than he needs me. He is the light in my heart.

No person should ever deface a war memorial. And that’s coming from someone who is normally obsessed with graffiti.

I think hazelnut coffee could be the most addictive substance known to man.

Life is rad but it really does suck sometimes, ya know?

It’s not childish to hold onto hope. It’s actually very, very hard.

IITS TIME TO DAB! Yassss!

I think my body type is ‘small, but slightly squishy in some spots.’

Yep, completely engrossed with the Roots mini series.

Why is gravy like super glue on my stove. Literally tired from cleaning it.

Hummus and black pepper sea salt pretzel crisps might be in the running for my new favorite combo.

*Hears thunder outside* “Hear that, little dude?! You know what that means! NAP!”

I feel a special kind of happiness when little dude watches Winnie The Pooh. He’s my silly old bear. And Tigger, tbh.

Hubs just came home with quite possibly the most beautiful buds I’ve ever seen. Life is good.

Why do I feel zero shame in finding myself funny? I laugh at my own posts constantly but I feel like I’m the only one. Lame.

“Sorry I called you a pedophile. I hope you’ll come to my holiday party.” Only on Housewives.

Little dude now refers to every thing that rolls out as “yoga-r!” because of my yoga mat and this makes me happy. I’m glad he likes that I do it and it actually keeps me motivated!

Hazelnut coffee and hits from the bongggggg is basically the divine breakfast of champions.

Cannabis is truly an incredible gift, dude.

Hubs got little dude his own smart tv and he couldn’t be happier about it. I literally walked in on him this morning dancing to rap videos on YouTube. But at least it’s not those damn surprise eggs.

I have a crush on my husband and that’s a nice feeling. And I’ll admit it, this small break for my usual social media world hasn’t been TOO bad. Don’t tell him I said that.

Baking blueberry muffins and watching American Dad. The life of a stay at home mom is sometimes a strange one.

It has been raining at various levels of intensity for a WEEK. A freaking week!

Losing myself in bong rips and Bloodline.

I really should post videos of little dude and his imagination for everyone to enjoy.

Having no one to talk to most of the time makes my head feel like its swimming with random thoughts no one really cares about. Le sigh.

Just had a really funny moment with hubs and little dude where we were all laughing hysterically. I love those times.

Aww. People love the treasure hunt game I made for little dude. Adorable.

Sometimes you just need to sit in the sun with your bong and think nice thoughts.

Every time I look at my child, I’m so happy to be alive!

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So Will the Real Stoner Moms Please Stand Up?

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Being a mom is the hardest, loveliest, weirdest job on the planet. Seriously, think about it: you basically exist to be at the beck and call of a human being you created, while somehow making your own life still exist, but basically only because that human being you created needs you to. There’s nothing else you’d rather do, but there’s also a million things you WANT to do (most of which you’ll never have time for, anyway). Any tiny moment of relaxation that mothers get should be celebrated and encouraged by everyone, especially when that moment does such wonders for her mothering abilities. Yet here we are in 2016, with so many advantages that we never thought were possible, still shaming moms for their choice of relaxation methods. The mom who drinks too much and is so hungover by morning that she can barely function, let alone engage with her kids? Somehow perfectly acceptable. But the mom who smokes a joint while her child is napping and does nothing except be MORE involved in her child’s play? CRIMINAL! HOW DARE SHE?! BAD MOTHER, ALERT! It’s honestly shameful and honestly needs to change, for the good of our (and our children’s) future.

I live in a state where cannabis is still considered a Schedule 1 illegal substance. It’s getting a little better over time, cops may not throw your ass in jail if they catch you with a small amount, but the fear for mothers who choose cannabis to medicate is still very real. We have one of the highest percentages of prescription drug abuse in the nation, and I happen to know plenty of people that not only abuse these dangerous legal drugs, but also know plenty of people prescribed to an ungodly number of these pills for reasons that could all be treated with taxable, natural medicine. Any mom I know could waltz into any hospital and get prescribed what is literally heroin in pill form, but I can’t smoke A PLANT without fear of legal action against me? It’s obvious what is SO HORRIBLY WRONG with this picture, right? I am a great person, a great mother, and I happen to smoke a little pot. Anyone who thinks it’s a big deal needs to WAKE THE HELL UP. Living in the ‘bible belt’ can be wretched. It’s so unfair that the ‘good Christians’ who drink too much beer and whiskey every single night but still judge others, won’t open their minds that cannabis could be anything more than evil ‘reefer madness’. The opinion seems to be slowly changing, and I am optimistic about the future, but one of the greatest reasons I am so open about being a mom who uses marijuana is to hopefully change the stigma attached to what a real stoner actually looks like.

I welcome any person who doubts these claims to personally interview my son. He may be only three, but I guarantee his words are true. Ask him if he has a good mommy. Ask him if he’s healthy. Ask him if he’s safe. And ask him if he’s happy. I know and can gaurantee all of his answers are a resounding YES! Now ask him if his mommy using marijuana is endangering his life. He won’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m sure he’ll laugh hysterically. Because he thinks I’m his greatest gift in life, that I’m his best friend, and that I’m his whole world. I personally admit to spending basically one hundred percent of my day stoned, and it has NOT ONCE affected my ability to be a good mom and a smart parent. In fact, it makes me BETTER. It’s true! I consider all mothers, those who stay home and those who work, to be superhuman. Seriously, we do it all. We should ABSOLUTELY be allowed to smoke a little ganja when we get the chance, and we deserve NOT to be considered a criminal for doing so. Imagine if Prohibition was still in effect: the masses would go INSANE if their alcohol was suddenly illegal. Now think about it from a stoner’s perspective, and take a moment to think how INSANE it really is: the government has made NATURE illegal. Everyone, quite frankly, should be PISSED.

I’d never agree that cannabis should be totally unregulated and come with no laws or rules attached to it. I truly believe that it should be controlled just like alcohol, as a substance strictly for adult consumption and controlled by laws put in place to protect minors. My son will absolutely know about the benefits of marijuana, but he will also absolutely know that this plant is for adults and not to be used as a kid without the possibility of facing consequences. My parents were definitely aware when I started smoking regularly in the beginning of high school, but luckily for me, my family definitely shares my positive views about marijuana. My grandpa has been a serious stoner all his life, as has my father, so it wasn’t necessarily allowed but it wasn’t something frowned upon, either. But when I was 17, my friends and I were stopped by a cop who ultimately found weed and a pipe on us. Panicking, I thought I was in BIG trouble. But in the end, they took the stash and called our parents and that was the end of it. But I’ll never forget my Dad (who was probably stoned himself) trying his hardest to be mad, saying things like “What do you think this is, Sarah? That 70s Show?!”  But it COULD have been a much more serious situation that marred my then oh-so-bright future. Small marijuana charges are NOT a productive use of law enforcement, but kids DO need to held accountable. If (hopefully not) legalization has not happened country wide by the time my son becomes a teenager or old enough to experiment with weed, he’ll definitely get in trouble at home if he’s ever caught with it. But if you ask me would I’d rather my son be smoking pot or drinking alcohol?  The answer will always be smoking pot, without a doubt. Let’s think about it: my son out at a party drinking too much and possibly getting in the car with someone who’s intoxicated, or sitting in the basement with his friends smoking weed and probably listening to music or watching a movie? If anyone in their right mind chose the first option, you need to reevaluate more than a few things. 

It really goes so much deeper than a mom who just likes to smoke cannabis. It is up to us to end the negative stenotypes that plague this natural medicine, to end the oppression against it, and to show the world that the face of the marijuana movement might just belong to a woman who happens to also be an outstanding mother. To us, this is not a drug. To us, this is about so much more than freedom. We need to collectively stand together against anyone saying that mothers using cannabis is wrong, because who else will?! It is beyond unfair that those of us who are wonderful parents could ever be classified as a criminal because we indulge in something that thousands of people have praised and used long before we as a country ever existed. 

There is NOTHING wrong with a happy mom who keeps her child happy! There is NOTHING wrong with children whose parents smoke pot. And there is NOTHING wrong with choosing a plant to get you in the happy headspace that you know your child incredibly appreciates. We moms are powerful beings of love and light, so let’s be the voice that gets our natural medicine available for EVERYONE! And remember, if mom is happy, the child is happy! ☺️

  

Appreciate Your Weird πŸ‘½

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One of my friends I cheered with in high school posted this adorable and hilarious story about a conversation with her young son on my facebook:  I told her that it made my night that she specifically thought to share this moment with me and how funny it was because let’s face it, kids say the most hilarious things without even realizing it. But it also made me realize something else: I am an open book. About many things. And completely unafraid to talk about things that some close minded people might call crazy. It made me smile, knowing despite how silly I might sound when I talk about aliens or conspiracies or cannabis legalization or who knows what else, there might always be someone who appreciates it enough to reach out to me when the subject comes up, and to me, that’s cool as hell.

When other moms who smoke weed reach out to me and tell me that my thoughts or advice have helped them in any tiny way, shape or form, my heart swells to 10 times its normal size. I am unapologetic when it comes to who I am, so to have someone tell me they appreciate any part of what I have to say is pure gold to me. Instead of being criticized, I’m greeted with admiration. My favorite teacher, Mr. Fulton, once told me something along the lines of my writing had a relatable quality to it that made my words feel really genuine (the best compliment I’ve ever received) and that’s always stuck with me, even when I’m just blasting my opinions about everything from the JFK assassination to what makes a good mother. Even these simple blog posts I write might mean something to someone, and that in turn, means everything to me.

For instance, this casual facebook status from last week:  Now, I always say these kinds of things on twitter. That’s where I can honestly have no fear about what others think, and where my real friends are (even those who live thousands of miles away!) because we all communicate on a truly personal level. As best as you can with 140 characters, anyway. But imagine my surprise when SO many people ‘liked’ this status, told me how funny and accurately I described myself, and that they’ve always appreciated how unique I am. Quite a confidence booster, considering the bulk of crap I usually see on facebook is people’s highly annoying prayer requests, memes about anything from Jesus to Obama to being a redneck, or highly off putting political views. I speak openly about my opinions, no matter how different from my peers here in the Bible Belt, and it makes me happy to have anyone appreciate it. I’ll never be afraid to talk about something I like, no matter how people might see it. Want to know why I sage and use crystals? Want to know if I (obviously) believe in aliens? Want to know why I think weed should be legal? Want to know who I think was responsible for Kurt Cobain’s death? Want to know if I think ghosts are real? Just ask! I’m always game for a weird conversation.

The point of sharing any of this? To encourage anyone to just ‘BE YOURSELF’. Whatever you’re into, own it. Because not only is it part of who you are, but it makes you awesome, no matter how different it may be from the next person. And remember, there’s always someone somewhere that will say “Me too!” or “Same here!”. In a world as weird and unpredictable as ours is today, those little bonds are a necessity. Own your weirdness. Own your geeky. Own your spooky. Own your magic. Whatever your story, there is always someone who will want to read it.

Suggestions from a Stoner Mom: Random Lessons Learned On This Crazy Ride.

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I joke around a lot about writing some sort of Stoner Mom Handbook, not only because it’s time we end the stigma attached to cannabis use by loving, real life mothers, but because we stoner moms really do exist and sharing our experiences with eachother is BEYOND important. But I think it’s really so much more than that: we tend to take an open minded, judgement free, ‘see what works best’ approach to parenting, which is a voice I truly believe could benefit the mom community as a whole. I’d NEVER claim to be an expert, nor would I offer advice claiming that I am. But I’ve seen the positive impact that real, honest words from real, honest moms can have on all of us. Why not share in our successes and our failures? We’ve all been there.

Moms learn something new everyday. It’s true. Whether from parenting articles, fellow parents, or your children themselves, you’re constantly finding new ways to make your family’s life easier. Or let’s face it, harder, depending on the day.

In my three years in the company of my tenacious toddler, I determined early on that I would find what works for us and roll with it. Whether it’s considered normal or not; I refuse to let others’ opinions sway my motherly instincts. So here’s a few random things that I’ve learned so far on this crazy ride. If nothing else, I hope it helps any mom realize we’re all doing the damn thing and we all know what you’re going through, sister! 

1. Kids can be your biggest stress, but also your biggest comfort.

I’ve always been a night owl, so strict bedtimes are almost nonexistent around our house. Yes, a time will come that obligations will require a normal bedtime and wake up routine, but for these sweet younger years, I’ll gladly take an extra hour of cuddles than an hour of fighting with a small bear cub about going to bed. And if that means I get an extra hour or two of sleep in the morning, that’s just freaking wonderful! But even if my little man goes to sleep peacefully, I’m always left mind wandering and over thinking. Luckily, I’ve discovered a restful technique that is heavenly: if I’m having trouble getting sleepy, a few minutes of matching my breathing to my sweet, sleeping prince relaxes me instantly. Just try it; I swear!

2. Sleep is everything, regardless of who’s bed it happens in.

Stop beating yourself up and bring the kid into your damn bed already! I know I’m in the minority that praises cosleeping but HELLO?! I love sleep and I love my kid. So from the day we brought our son home, I held him all night. Yes, it’s a bad habit. Yes, it will be harder for him to have a real sleep routine. But you know what? My little boy won’t be little for long, and I’ll soak up every sweet moment of him snuggled up against me sweetly dreaming. And I’ll relish in every awesome morning where the first thing I see is his sweet face staring at me bright eyed and happy and ready o start our day. And before you start your hating, he WILL sleep on his own. I just prefer him in bed with us, and quite frankly, I don’t care what everyone says about it.

3. Just let them watch the tv. 

Your kid watching a few cartoons isn’t going to rot their brains. You’re not a bad parent for letting them watch Disney Junior while you get ready because that puzzle holds his interest for literally a quarter of the time a cartoon would. Think about you as a kid: you watched plenty of tv, right? I know I did, and I turned out fine. I love to read and learn and my brain didn’t turn to mush. Just let Mickey distract them and enjoy that cup of coffee and 20 minutes of rare peace. Enough with the guilt trips! Give yourself a break. You deserve it, lady!

4. Little boys will be little boys.

I’m sorry to my fellow moms that have girls, but bare with me for a moment. I am forever worried about the bumps and bruises on my son’s shins, and it’s always because I’m afraid of judgment from other people. But sometimes you need to be reminded that BOYS WILL BE BOYS! They’re brave and impulsive and will constantly climb, jump, fall, push and force themselves in silly situations that may or may not hurt them. Give yourself a break and keep band aids on hand.

5. Don’t force yourself to like kiddie things if you don’t.

I can’t handle most kid songs. Nursery rhymes, classic sing alongs, variations on the alphabet, whatever: it’s not my bag. More than that, it’s like torture. The solution? Not up in here! Sorry, son. There’s no ‘Wheels on the Bus’ playing in mommy’s car. I might listen to an edited version of a rap song depending on who’s around (emphasis on might), but otherwise, I’m jamming to MY tastes. If you really believe that my child will grow up to become a criminal because he heard some trap music or hippie lyrics in his younger years, you need to get out more.

6. Don’t let your environment pressure your parenting.

This isn’t a problem I personally face yet, but I can tell it’s coming in the years to come. This topic is obviously broad; it could refer to any number of things. Personally, I foresee our issue being about the lack of stress we put on religion in our household. I was raised Catholic when I was very young, but my parents were never super religious and never pressured me when it came to church. My husband was raised Baptist (the norm around here), but has always felt as I do that church or the Bible doesn’t necessarily determine spirituality. We both follow the “Do good, feel good. Do bad, feel bad” mentality and are very open to all the mystery in the universe when speaking of a higher power or whatever happens after life. (Don’t even get me started on my ‘our souls are really stars’ theory!) But our friends, our community, and basically our entire state are almost solely Bible bumping, holy rolling, Jesus’s way or the highway Christian warriors, and it honestly terrifies me. Will my kid be ostracized because his parents don’t force him into Sunday School and insist he devotes his life to the Lord? Will he be forced to learn from a school curriculum that was built with Christianity in mind? Will he suddenly meet a girl whose parents might not like him because he’s not necessarily their idea of a “good Christian man”? And on another note, don’t even get me started on the anti-cannibis propaganda. Please let that not even be an issue when that day comes.

7. Every kid is different and every kid will “get there”…eventually.

I’m about to reveal, for the first time, the absolutely embarrassing parenting issue I’m currently experiencing: potty training. Our son is three, well into the age bracket of kids that should be fully toilet trained by now. But it’s just not happening, and it’s frustrating as hell. I’ve tried the tricks and tips and nothing is working. Seriously, my kid just has zero interest in using the toilet. So day after day, I question every move I make and everything I do, wondering what’s wrong and if I’m failing as a parent in every way. But I need to take my own advice and relax: he’ll get there. One of these marathon sit-on-the-toilet-for-nothing sessions will pay off and I’ll have a ready for society child. But every mom needs to hear, “It’s ok. They’ll figure it all out.” because we’re not failures, no matter how much we’ve convinced ourselves otherwise.

8. Just chill, man.

Things not going right? Demon child suddenly replaced your little angel? Picky eating making you silently scream multiple times a day? Wearing the same pajamas you’ve worn for five days? Take a deep breath, and just chill. I’ve lived most of my life in a “just chill” state of mind: I hate confrontation, I don’t like my happiness to waver because I’m stressed, and I don’t like my anxiety to have any power; therefore, staying chill makes my world feel right. So even when my son is making me want to hide in the closet and hope a black hole swallows me up, I remind myself to “just chill“, because this too shall pass.

9. Pay no mind to those haters who judge when they themselves have no kids. Karma is sweet and they’ll see. Oh, they’ll see alright…

Remember that father who posted a picture of him and his daughter enjoying a bath a few months ago and basically got torn apart by the internet? While I do agree that he probably shouldn’t have posted that type of picture in such a public forum, and that sickos are very real, I definitely felt for the dude. Newsflash, childless humans: it’s not weird to grab a quick shower with your kid. Quite frankly, if I didn’t bring my son in the shower with me, I’d never be clean. Seriously. It’s not like you can leave a toddler to their own devices while you take twenty minutes of steamy heaven. My little man loses himself in his toys and occasionally sings me the SpongeBob theme song, just in case you were thinking something more scandalous. It’s a young CHILD, fools! They’re not ogling your goodies in any inappropriate way. You’re getting clean, they’re getting clean, they’re entertained for a semi extended period of time, and your hair finally gets washed! (because lets face it, it might have been awhile…) Clearly you don’t plan on bathing with your offspring when they’re old enough to let you have your own shower without the possibility of them harming themselves, so pay no attention to those “ew, that’s weird!” naysayers. Just let them experience a week or two of that motherhood curse of the missed shower opportunity.

Same goes to showing affection to your kids. Reading articles about why some parents choose not to kiss their children or be overly affectionate to them is absolutely INFURIATING to me. Could a child be TOO loved? Could they be TOO aware that their mother loves them? Could they somehow be hindered by a parent’s warm embrace? (Just typing this made me angry, fyi!) I have three words for you cold hearted souls: CUT THE BULLSHIT. My son gets all the kisses he wants, all the hugs he can handle, and every cuddle, with our hands held tight and boo boos made better by a ‘momma kiss’. There will be a few years in the not so distant future that that little being begging for your love right now will suddenly want nothing to do with you, let alone let you show them ANY kind of affection whatsoever. We’ll probably be lucky enough to get a wave goodbye, to be honest. Also, think about this: if a child thinks that they’re not even worthy of being shown affection by their own parents, don’t you think they’ll search for it elsewhere? Or maybe even be left with a kind of twisted view of basic human intimacy? And further down the line, be unsure how to show love to the people in their life, like their own children, thus repeating a vicious cycle? It’s heartbreaking to me. This is 2016, folks. There’s no need to raise children to ‘be seen and not heard’ or to ‘keep a stiff upper lip’. I kissed my parents and told them I loved them every night before bed growing up. I’m a full blown adult and I still give my mom a huge bear hug every single time I see her. I tell my dad I love him randomly whenever I feel like it, because my parents are not only awesome, but raised us to know we were loved and cherished. By denying a child’s basic human need for affection, you’re not raising a ‘tough guy’, you’re just being a monster. Who could seriously find something wrong with loving on that sweet nugget you made?! 

10. Appreciate that side of you that didn’t exist before your child.

We all have days as moms that we’re flooded with ‘what if?’ moments. What if I hadn’t had a kid? What would I be doing with my life? I am 100% guilty of this; and I’ve been known to get downright sad for a minute or two, thinking of all my plans I had for myself, all the free times full of laughter with long gone friends, and being known as ‘just a mom’ instead of that published novelist I just knew I’d become in no time. But all it takes to snap me out of it is one silly thing said by my son, hearing him say “Aw, Momma so cute” while stroking my cheek, or singing a killer duet with him while dancing barefoot in the kitchen. To my son, I’m the funniest person on the planet. I’m the heart that makes the world he sees everyday somehow keep going. I’m the coolest person that ever existed. And in his eyes, I’m fantastic at everything from cooking to cutting tiny fingernails (I’m not good at either, by the way), because he’s just delighted at every little thing I do. I may have had fun in those years before motherhood, but never has my life literally felt like one big inside joke that never gets old. And I might still be that published author one day, and the dedication on my first printed page will be for the tiny soul that has really made me someone I am happy and proud to be. Lots of questions were answered for me when I became a mom, like why I get so excited about the littlest things (so that my child knows to always find joy in whatever greets him day in and day out), and why I always knew having a boy was the only plan for me (whether its my appreciation for football and motocross, my disgust with pink and frilly nonsense, my inability to be prim and proper, or my flare for little boy style, I was truly made to raise a cool little dude). And I’m also far more patient than ever before. I’m way more aware of money and what it’s spent on. I know how powerful a good night’s sleep really is. And I know that being a stay at home mom (who happens to smoke pot, because it’s not like I’m TOTALLY lame these days πŸ˜‰) with a hard working husband and a gorgeous child is a really great life that I’m pretty damn grateful for. So I thank you, son, for showing me who I was always meant to be.

So maybe none of these are traditional ‘important’ parenting tips, but the little lessons we learn daily sometimes give us the most peace in the longrun. No mother is perfect, but together, we might just all come out alive, with precious beings by our side. And remember, life is so full when you’re loved by a little soul πŸ’š

  

What Makes a Stoner Mom?

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Picture this: a mother finally gets her kid to sleep. Her day has been a mix of everything from cleaning messes that seem to multiply, kissing non existent boo boo’s, creating new ways to try to satisfy a picky eater, begrudgingly smiling through mind numbing children’s television, and being otherwise poked, prodded, picked on and pushed around for the majority of her day. Finally, after five bedtime stories and an hour of fighting, she finally has a moment to herself, so she pours a glass of wine and settles down on the couch for a much deserved break.

Now replace that glass of wine with a bowl of marijuana and everyone loses their minds. BUT THAT’S ILLEGAL! DON’T YOU CARE ABOUT YOUR CHILD?! WHAT SORT OF EXAMPLE ARE YOU SETTING? YOU’RE A MOM, YOU CAN’T DO THAT! WEED IS A DRUG! Well I’m here to tell you, there’s nothing wrong with you. In fact, it’s society that’s wrong. But until the rest of the world opens their minds, moms who use marijuana will continue to get an underserved bad rep. 

What makes a stoner mom? Any number of things, really. A mom that gets high when her kid goes to bed? Sure! A mom growing pot among her tomatoes in a garden behind the house? Maybe. A housewife with the baking skills of both Betty Crocker and Tommy Chong? (you see what I just did there?!) Awesome! Or maybe,  just a normal woman, who chooses to care for herself using cannabis. There’s no reason to read too much into it, a mom who uses marijuana is not a criminal. She is not choosing drugs over her kid. She is not setting a bad example. She is medicating. She is relaxing. She is handling her shit. You think it’s better to drink than it is to smoke weed? I’ll tell you, one might be illegal (stupidly), but it’s the other that can do far more damage. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that moms shouldn’t drink if they choose to (hello, I love me a big glass of red wine!); I’m not judging anyone’s choices. But what I am judging is anyone thinking less of a mother because she chooses to use a product of nature, (A plant, folks! A FREAKING PLANT!) but sees the mother who chooses alcohol as normal, or furthermore, superior in any way. Knock yourself down a peg or two and ask yourself: would you rather your kid drink or smoke pot? If you said drink, you need to reevaluate a few things. Or probably a lot of things, frankly. 

Until the rest of the country follows in the smart footsteps of states like Colorado and Washington, we moms who love maryjane must live in fear of not only judgement and misunderstanding, but of the unthinkable: someone unjustly deciding you’re an ‘unfit mother’. Not the woman who has no problem driving her kids to soccer after a martini or two; she’s fine. Not the mother who is basically a zombie after popping her highly addictive prescribed medication; she got it from a doctor, so she’s fine. But the mother who quietly smokes a joint in her kitchen while her child naps, then spends the day happily reading stories and relaxing with her toddler? CRIMINAL! DEGENERATE! SELFISH! How, in 2015, is anyone thinking this way? There is merit in plenty of ‘accepted’ parenting tips and techniques; sometimes the tried and true way of thinking works for a reason. But every parent finds their own way of living day to day life, for themselves and their children. And us moms (or dads, I’m not trying to leave anyone out!) are the center of it, the heart and soul of the family starts with mom, whether we like to admit it or not. This applies to all types of families, whether you’re married or single, blended, or non traditional. Whether you have one kid or seven, or you’re both working full time or one of you stays at home, moms are the keepers of the key. Who else makes sure everyone is ready when you leave the house? Who is always willing to make a snack, even if she’s already made three and hasn’t eaten yet herself? Who else knows just what to say to make a crying over nothing child suddenly smile? And every mom who gives a damn about the actual important stuff, like the love you show your kids in little ways that they’ll always secretly remember, and not that you sanctimoniously shielded them from too much tv and insisted they only eat 1000000% organic. So a mom who uses cannabis to help her with any number of things is doing just that: helping herself. If you label any mom who might smoke a little pot as a criminal, you’re putting them in a category they don’t deserve to be in. 

Unfortunately, society needs to catch up. I imagine a world for my son in which marijuana is just as normal as alcohol; regulated and readily available to adults to purchase. A time where no mother has to fear the stigma that will always stick to weed as long as we’re forced to buy it illegally in a ziplock bag. And perhaps most importantly, a world where any mother has access to the truly incredible medical benefits that come from cannabis, especially if it means saving her child from a lifetime of so many illnesses that are much better maintained with the help of some form of marijuana.

So what makes a stoner mom? Just a woman doing things her own way, which is what all mothers are just trying to do: loving our kids and doing the best we can for them. (And if I’m being honest, she’s probably a little cooler than you, at least in the eyes of her little ones πŸ˜‰) It’s important that we end the stigma. Maybe mothers should be the face of marijuana, maybe we’re the ones who change the game and normalize cannabis use without fear of being severely punished. Us stoner moms are amazing at what we do; just ask our kids! 

And really, next time you find yourself with a few minutes of peace, maybe take yourself a toke or two. It just might change your life! ☺️

  

Pregnancy and Pot: The Magic of Mixing Motherhood and Marijuana

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First thing’s first: There’s no denying that my love affair with marijuana began long before I’d ever even considered having a child. While my high school friends were always searching for a place to get drunk, I was the girl perfectly content with driving around on the (supposedly) haunted backroads of my hometown, puffing on some green leafy magic and feeling like that very moment was the happiest of my life and that the universe was alive with wonder just for me. Sure, I’m sure part of that was knowing I was young and alive and had no real worries in the world. But my almost instant realization that this substance that everyone treated like a terrible drug wasn’t really a drug at all but a miraculous product of nature, was instantaneous and everlasting.

Even long after the days of typical rebellious teenage behavior had run their course, I was still very much ‘proud to be a pothead’. I didn’t really know when I was young, but my love for marijuana didn’t actually begin with me. In fact, it seems to be in my blood: there’s more relatives that use cannabis in my family than there are that don’t. I didn’t exactly ever have my parents’ ‘permission’, but I know they knew what their oldest daughter was up to and were actually much happier knowing I wasn’t out drinking and driving. But it makes me think back to one particular incident when I was 17 and was pulled over and ultimately found to be in possession of a small amount of pot. Looking back, I was beyond lucky (they confiscated my stuff and called my parents) and understood why my daddy yelled at me from the front seat “WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS, SARAH? THAT 70’S SHOW?! YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS JUST OUT GETTING HIIIIIIGH?!” in his best angry tone. But no matter what the situation, I just didn’t see things that way. How is it possible that anyone could see anything wrong with getting high? Or with using a resource provided to us by nature, with zero chemicals (or destroyed livers)?! I knew my choice to use marijuana was the right one and I’d tell that to anyone who asked (which is EXACTLY what I’m still doing today!). I truly believe I found cannabis for a reason, as did so many others, and it hasn’t left my life since, and never will.
I mentioned my younger self’s brush with the law because it makes me think of what the future might be for our children. Fast forward ten years, and here I am with a husband and a child of my own, something that I wasn’t exactly sure would ever be in my future. My family teased me for years about my lack of maternal instincts (all because I hated babies on airplanes and constant annoying questions!), but learning I was pregnant really was incredible. I was a different from other typical expecting mothers from the start (that’s just how I roll!), like finding the need to make a ‘birth plan’ utterly ridiculous and reading my unborn son Hunter S. Thompson while I felt him kick and wiggle in my belly. But I did the obvious: took my prenatel vitamins, stopped all alcohol consumption (which was basically nonexistent anyway), and tried to eat and sleep better than usual. But what about smoking weed? The thought of stopping literally NEVER crossed my mind and I felt no shame in it. I know pregnant women who would never admit to using cannabis, but I was proud of my choice and I’ll tell anyone who is willing to listen. 

My pregnancy was literally the perfect example of why EVERY woman should have cannabis in their arsenal: I had no morning sickness. I actually had an appetite. I was chill and happy literally all the time. I slept like a champ and I had no postpartum depression issues afterwards, which can be so heartbreaking and scary.

Unfortunately, because the only information out there on marijuana’s affects on growth and development of a child and/or mother during pregnancy is almost never relevant or even factual. Information online ranges from old school, moral biased ‘preaching’ about fearing the reefer, to articles basically shaming any expecting mother for even thinking of using a *gasp* illegal drug (that we all should accept is classified incorrectly by now!) When my doctor asked me the normal questions about my lifestyle, I didn’t lie. Instead, I told her outright that I use marijuana on a daily basis and have for basically over 10 years. I expected a look of judgment at the very least, but to my surprise, she embraced me and said that telling me to stop outright would be much harder on my now ever changing body and that I should keep doing what makes me the most comfortable. If I had previously had any sort of doubt in my decision, it was now dead and buried. 

Fast forward nine long months and my husband and I were blessed were a perfect, healthy, beautiful baby boy, weighing in at a whopping 10 lbs 11 oz (so much for all that nonsense I read about the dangers of underweight babies with cannabis use!) with big bright eyes and dimples identical to his daddy’s. From the moment we brought him home, he blessed us with his forever happy demeanor and love to sleep, even through the night. All that shaming I read about pregnancy and weed? Nonsense. My baby was healthy, happy and would only continue to do so. He didn’t get a cold till he was almost eight months old, barely cried and would eat and sleep like a grown man, all without that gross spit up phase most babies go through. Then, before we knew it, he was a year old and walking, absorbing every word and place we went, all while always maintaining such a pleasant and sweet personality.

My only slight point of questioning myself was earlier this year while I waited for what seemed like months for my son to really talk. He said lots of single words, but would never string them together or fully express himself. And because all moms seem to love to torture themselves by comparing their child to others, I was worried that somehow something I did or was doing was contributing to his lack of speech. I read to him everyday, and tried my best to speak slowly on his level, often naming every object in a room. My family always reassured me, explaining that my husband and I talk so much that Carson didn’t really need to speak much (truth!), or that all those crazy noises he was constantly making were the verge of a ‘word explosion’. And just like they predicted, he literally woke up one morning and decided to show off all those conversations he’d be saving to have with us. And now we can’t get our friendly little chatterbox to stop talking, he’s even been known to show off his singing skills.

I felt the need to share my personal experience because the subject is still so taboo, and perhaps with more awareness will come more acceptance, which could very well lead to that big social change in perception that the marijuana legalization movement needs. I’m a firm believer that moms are the key in the ending of cannabis prohibition: now more than ever, moms are taking matters of their childrens’ health into their own hands and witnessing incredible results with the use of medicinal cannabis. It’s use to battle some seriously traumatic health issues experienced by truly suffering children is amazing and has been known to literally reverse the effects of multiple diseases and injury, improving quality of life and sometimes curing them all together. More mothers need to support these amazing results and push to move away from the chemicals pushed on us and our families by Big Pharma. Recognize that this beautiful gift of nature is about so much more than getting high, and stop making families live in fear because they are doing whatever possible to help their children, even if that way is not yet legal nationwide. And if you’re like me, a mother and wife who discovered long ago that marijuana was just meant for me; don’t be ashamed that while other mothers drink a glass of wine or three to wind down, you simply smoke a bowl. After all, I dare anyone to say they’re more ‘in the moment’ with their kids than I am, and I dare them to claim that alcohol is safer than marijuana in any instance, kids or no kids. My amazing bond with Carson is the only reassurance I need that I’m doing NOTHING wrong.  

 

Happy mom, happy kid: from conception, to toddler, to teenager and all the years in between. Do your thing, marijuana loving mom! You’re doing it right, I promise!