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.

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! ☺️

  

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! ☺️

  

Don’t Worry, Mom’s Just Lonely…

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Words can’t express how much I love spending every day with my son. I love watching him learn, I love him napping beside me on the daily, and I love being the one who’s always there, no matter what. But people don’t always realize how incredibly lonely motherhood can be, especially in the early years. 

Let me explain: Yes, moms are never technically alone. We have social media, our significant others (if we’re lucky) and of course we have the company of our beautiful children. But you have no idea how many days go by that you’re left thinking: “Does anyone care about ME?”, “I wish I had someone to talk to”, and “Who can I talk to about [insert topic here]?” For us stay at home moms, days spent with a toddler leaves you desperately searching for someone, anyone, who understands your struggle. Toddlers don’t want to talk about adult stuff. Toddlers don’t want to discuss what happened on last night’s Real Housewives. They love you, they need you, but they don’t care about your stuff (as it should be). 

All the awesome friends you had before you became a mother are still awesome, but it’s inevitable that you will lose touch with most of them. It’s not that you or they don’t care about each other anymore, but until they themselves have a child, they won’t understand how difficult it really is to be social in the way you were before a kid took over your world. There’s certain people who will try to still reach out to you to do the things you used to, and you deeply appreciate them for trying, but eventually they’ll give up, and it’s heartbreaking. I miss my best friends SO much, but my priorities have completed shifted and I no longer am able to drop everything to go have a blast with them.

And even if there is a chance we get to escape and see our old gang, it’s still different than it was before. WAY different. Your suddenly find yourself wondering hopelessly if your child needs you, or (like me) would rather take this time for some much needed relaxation alone. But without being social, you find yourself desperately seeking interaction with anyone that’s old enough to care about fashion or wine or current events. Unfortunately, motherhood is a struggle that constantly have us balancing who we used to be and who we must become for the sake of our children. 

Sometimes I sit on the couch and think to myself, “Wow. I went to college for this” and “Geez, my life used to be pretty damn cool“. I try to remind myself daily that this is what I was meant to do, and that all of myself I sacrifice is deeply, hugely appreciated by my precious son. In no way do I wany anyone thinking I’m unhappy, because I’m not. But am I lonely? Yes

My fingers are crossed that when my son starts school, I’ll find kinship with other moms that have felt alone like me, though so many ‘mom cliques’ feel like groups of mean girls and that is my nightmare. But maybe I’ll find some other lonely moms deep in the struggle. Maybe I’ll find those friends that expect nothing of me other than what I can offer at that moment, because maybe they’ll understand how motherhood works. I have so much love for the people in my life, and I’ll always be searching for more friends to share it with: more weirdo moms, just like me. πŸ‘½β€οΈ 

 

To my Twitter Besties:

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This seems so silly, since I have no idea if any of you will even see this, but since my absence on twitter, I am missing my friends on social media like a crazy person.

My husband likes to argue: “Who cares?! You don’t even know them!” But that’s far from true! The girls I met through twitter are some of the most genuine friends I’ve ever met: y’all know me inside and out, better than almost anyone. 

If you’re reading this, I love you. I miss you. And I hope you all have wonderful things happening in your worlds; you deserve it ❀️

Halloween Hilarity!

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I know Halloween has now come and gone, but I can’t stop staring at all the adorable pictures of little dude channelling his inner frog! πŸ’š Maybe it’s because I love Halloween and enjoy it even more now that I get to celebrate it as a mother. Maybe it’s because we’re still binge watching “The Nightmare Before Christmas” (or ‘Christmas! Trick or Treat!’ according to little dude), and probably will be straight on till New Years. Or maybe it’s because in just one week, my two year old becomes a three year old, and not only is it baffling me that time really does fly, but it’s killing me a little that my baby isn’t such a baby anymore. 

Enjoy the upcoming holiday traditions with your little ones! I hope everyone had an awesome Halloween, and doesn’t rush too quick into Christmas! πŸ˜‰