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 😉) 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!