Deep in the motherHood: Random Anxious Mom Thoughts.

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I have no shame in saying I’m my own person. I’m not one to conform to fit in. I’m not one to stray away from what I like just because other people might not get it. I’m not afraid to meet new people, but I am afraid I’ll never quite fit in. All of these things also apply to me as a mom, and with it comes a weird jumble of thoughts I stress about almost daily. Nonexistent scenarios that may or may not happen in the future that make me question every decision I’ve ever made for my son, and all because I feel like I’m not what a “typical mom” should be.

Here’s an example: My little dude played T-ball for the first time last Fall. He loved it, and I was glad to get him some fun time with other kids his age since he’s normally home with me. But from the first practice, I could *feel* the judge-y eyes on me. Why? Could it be that I wore flannel instead of chic workout apparel? Could it be that my tank had a Fox Racing logo on it and not a monogram? I think it was all those things, combined with the fact that the state I’m living in, the life I’ve chosen, and who I am as a person will always make me look like an ugly duckling in a pond full of mom swans. Or at least that’s how I feel.

I wish I could be a Pinterest Mom. I really, truly do. All of those preciously creative decor, food, and favor ideas are surely enviable by every other person at the party, except by who the party is for, who is a small child and could care less if you tied handkerchiefs to string to make a rustic carnival banner for your living room. My kid is happy with pizza, presents, and cake, so why not keep it as simple as that? Maybe I decorate some cookies with skulls & bones because he loves pirates, and I’d consider that a huge victory. I’m just not built to put on a beautiful display of perfect motherhood, with a perfectly kept house and perfectly effortless ‘I just came from the gym’ look, and a perfectly clean car that doesn’t look like it lives at my husband’s messy job sites. Even if I put in enough effort to look like a functioning human, I still feel like an oddball. My style is different. My speech is different. Who I am in my soul is different. I blame it on moving to the bible belt, but I’d probably feel this way anywhere.

And then there is the mistake of thinking too much about the future. Financial thoughts make me most anxious. The thought of always having plenty of money for anything my son could want or need at a moment’s notice fills me with fear. We’re not slumming it, but we’re not riding a wave of financial freedom, either. Not by a long shot. I have big dreams for my smart little prince, but can I keep up? Universe, if you’re listening, we got this. But whew, even writing this has me nervous. I’m a stay at home mom not just because it’s what is best for our family, but because the cost of daycare is OUTRAGEOUS to me. Absolutely OUTRAGEOUS! To all of you who make it work for you, I am filled with applause for you. But honestly, if I were to start working, my check would literally be sucked up by childcare every single week. Might that change when little dude starts school? I’d never say never, but I think for any mom at my age and in this stage in their family’s life, money is a CONSTANT anxiety trigger. It feels like we’re all stuck on some kind of hamster wheel. ‘Real Adult’ things like a retirement plan or real life savings? I mark those thoughts with a big ol’ “?”. For now, I’ll pat myself on the back that the bills are paid, there’s food in the cabinet, and my kid wants for nothing (at least through his eyes). 

The saddest part of all of this is that at my age, it feels like all of this should be figured out, or even nonexistent, by now. Our real, actually *somewhat* attainable goal is buying what we feel is a real home, but it feels like we’re so far beyond. I take solace in knowing we all figure it out eventually and everyone grows at their own pace, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get down on myself. I see moms younger than me with a full blown ‘real life’ going on and I feel like a failure, or a struggling child. Or I see women my age who do so much more than me with elegant ease, and feel both a sense of rebellion and envy. But as a mother, and a loving, real mother at that, I know deep in my soul that everything will work out as long as I love my child and my family with all I have and keep striving everyday to figure it out, no matter how murky the water I’m barely treading in may be. When my child reaches for my hand, I instantly feel like I can do no wrong; that I can overcome any monster. I will reach shore. The wind will stay in my sails. I will ride these waves of life.


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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!

We’re All In This Together!

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I feel like every time I leave the house with my son, people look at me like I’m a young, single mom who is should be pitied. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m ALWAYS in sweatpants and usually sans makeup (because it’s errands with my toddler, duh) but it makes me laugh because let’s face it: they couldn’t be more wrong. Not only am I NOT young, but I’m also far from single. Married, in fact, if you’d bother to notice the ring on my finger. No need to pity me, especially with a kid as obviously delightful as mine.

But I think these assumptions actually help me be better at being the kind of mom other moms aren’t as scared to reach out to, like I’m more approachable than one of those Stepford Wife moms that seems to always have her shit together. I can relate to every woman who has ever had a child, something that I am proud of and think of as a great quality. But none of this is obvious if you really look at my life, since my true mom friends are extremely few and far between. But nothing scares me more than a mom feeling totally alone: we’ve all been there, and quite frankly, it sucks.

And yet, the judgement is EVERYWHERE. Between mothers, between women, between people in general. I don’t understand why it’s so hard to embrace every parenting style, embrace every bedtime routine, embrace every way of teaching and learning. What works for one parent definitely doesn’t always work for another, and we as a whole need to accept that THIS IS PERFECTLY FINE. But always be open to asking for advice and always be open to giving it, because you never know how a simple “Oh, me too! Here’s what I did that might help you…” may do for another mother who might be struggling.

I think all parents need to have one thing in common: an open mind. If you remain open to relating to all parents, despite their age, their gender, their marital status, their income level, or their way of life, we could bridge so many gaps on this terrifying journey of raising miniature human beings. And hey, open minded parents breed open minded kids, which can give us all hope for a sunnier future for our little ones.  

  

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! ☺️

  

Little Moments with Little Minds

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I can probably put myself at the head of the ‘chill moms’ table. I’m the queen of “Ok, whatever!” and brush all any sort of negative connotation that one parenting technique is any better than another. But I’m always worrying about keeping my son home with me is keeping him from fully developing parts of his mind that comes with being away from me and our usual environment. And now with him starting preschool this fall (which if you follow me on social media, you know I can’t stop talking about ☺️), I’m wondering how he’ll measure up among his peers.

Until, out of nowhere day after day, he surprises the hell out of me. He’ll blurt out phrases that I had no idea he knew. Or maybe he’ll grab his favorite book and read it to me (in his own way, of course!), or sing me lyrics to whatever song we’ve been blaring in the car recently. He’ll converse with people at the store, call his Nana just to chat, or stack his blocks up so high I wonder how he could have possibly done it without super glue. 

And I feel myself beaming with pride when he asks for something and immediately thanks whoever fetches it for him, or when I do something as simple as changing the channel on the tv and he throws his arms around me with a gleeful “GREAT JOB, MOMMA! Wow!” I mean, what could I possibly be worried about? Maybe I am doing a good job. Maybe I really am figuring this parenting thing out. Maybe I’m not just a good mom is his eyes, but in anyone’s. Telling myself this makes me feel slightly better as I continue drowning in this current living hell known as toddler potty training with a tiny demon that thinks there’s no reason to use the toilet. *Sigh* I’ll get my shit together someday, right? 

Find solace in the little moments that remind you that that little human being you’re responsible for is doing just fine. They and their minds are forever growing, and don’t be afraid to pat yourself on the back for ANY small moment that makes the harder ones a little less miserable. 

That being said, if you’re listening out there, universe: tell my son that although he’ll always be “momma’s baaaaby”, she’s tired of messes that should be easily flushed away. Please and thank you. ✨ 

 

Appreciate Your Weird 👽

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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.

Infinitely Young and Ultimately Old.

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When did I get so old? Seriously? I feel like my younger years are so far behind me, yet I know I’m nowhere near what is considered to be truly ‘old’. But when I look back to just a few years ago, I wonder not only how I’m still alive, but what happened to my life AT ALL? The obvious answer is my son, who for as much love as he gives me in return, has basically sucked every ounce of younger life from me until he moves out (or so I figure). But in not such a literal sense, life really DOES take a toll on you after awhile. Being an adult is exhausting.

But then again, do I consider myself an adult? I’d like to say absolutely, but honestly: not a chance. There are so many people my age or younger that to me, are the perfect examples of how to ‘adult’ properly: a ‘big kid’ job, house, money in savings, concrete plans for the future and, last but not least, somehow manage to look like they have their shit together every single day. 

Then there’s me: who is lucky to get a shower, let alone put makeup on and pick out a good outfit, went to college but has no serious direction of my future plans, and panics when it comes time to actually face most of my responsibilities. I always tell myself we’ll eventually get it together, but I can’t help but be clouded by my own doubts. And honestly, I think this stems from always allowing myself to enjoy the fun side of life and living by not taking anything too seriously, which I don’t think is always a bad thing. Mind you, I’m always wondering if growing up means accepting defeat of some part of yourself.
But no matter how my responsibilities differ from day to day (aka mom life), from the easy ones all the way to the ‘is this what hell is?’ category, I’m still that teenage weirdo, smoking too much in a random fox racing tshirt and holes in my jeans, wearing too much eyeliner and not giving a damn about much of anything. Even if I’m now setting an example for a little miniature human, I can’t pretend to be something I’m not. I can’t pretend to have it all together, but you know what? That means I NEVER have to pretend to be a good mother, because regardless if I’m in a hoodie with a messy bun at the store surrounded by Betty Cleavers, my kid is the happiest of all. This much I definitely know for sure.

I guess the point of this is give any mother a pat on the back, no matter what age they are and what doubts they face day in and day out. Don’t find yourself feeling so old that you lose your ‘you-ness’; don’t hide whatever little version of yourself might be lurking underneath all that ‘adult’. Seems like everyone has it all together? Maybe they do, but maybe they aren’t as vivacious as you are. Maybe their glimmer is a little duller. Embrace every little thing, and your little mini thing will thank you! ☺️