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.


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 😉) 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 💚

  

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. 👽❤️ 

 

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!

Lullabye

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Until recently, lullabies were hardly a crucial part of my son’s nightly bedtime routine. I’m not exactly the most “structured ” mom around (how could I call myself a gonzo momma if I was?!), so he’s never had an EXACT bedtime with an EXACT night after night ritual. But cuddling with me is an absolute MUST, for him and for me. And on a few of the more challenging nights we’ve had since he’s hit his toddler stage in stride, I’ve opted to softly singing a song or two, which is met with my precious boy nuzzling into me and smiling as he drifts off to dreamland. It’s honestly incredibly beautiful and calming for me to be a part of.
But at no point did the familiar ‘Hush Little Baby‘ or ‘Hushabye Mountain‘ ever pop into my head. Honestly, I probably couldn’t even tell you 1/4 of the lyrics. But there’s plenty of songs that we find just perfect for our bedtime compilation, most of which I originally chose because of their soothing affect on me and my restless mind.
So in case you’re a gonzo momma too, or maybe just enjoy to put your own spin on this whole parenting thing, I thought I’d share a few of our favorites. Enjoy and sweet dreams!

1. Incubus- “Aqueous Transmission” (our HANDS DOWN favorite! It is so beautiful that I have trouble explaining why, really.)
2. 311 “Amber”
3. Van Morrison “Through the Mystic”
4. Buffalo Springfield “For What its Worth”
5. Slightly Stoopid “2 AM”, “Mellow Mood”, “Wiseman”
6. Jefferson Airplane “White Rabbit”
7. America “Ventura Highway”
8. The Wallflowers “One Headlight”, “Heroes”
9. The Beatles “All my Life”, “Across the Universe”, “Strawberry Fields”
10. Bob Marley “Is This Love”, “Three Little Birds”
11. Led Zeppelin “Thank You”
12. Modest Mouse “Talking Shit About a Pretty Sunset”, “Fire it Up”
13. Red Hot Chili Peppers “Hard to Concentrate”, “Otherside”, “Snow (Hey Oh!)
14. Dave Matthews Band “Crush”, “Crash Into Me”, “Where Are You Going”

And with those few examples, I hope you all find yourself happy on this peaceful night!