The Day Every Mother Loves to Hate

Here I sit on a Tuesday night thoroughly exhausted and unable to have a coherent thought after my oldest’s first day of school. I sent my first child to her first day of first grade; there’s something I’ll never be able to say again.

The exhaustion is more mental than physical, I’m sure. I mean, yes, I forgot about all the pesky BTS shopping until yesterday (we had just gotten back from a week long vacation, don’t judge) so we spent hours frantically walking around trying to get the perfect items. Yes, I probably did get everything on the list (including the teacher’s wish list) in an effort to not be one of those moms. And yes, I did stay up way too late manually sharpening 50 number two pencils, eventually popping the burn blister on my index finger. I have to say, I don’t think saving those extra pennies on non sharpened pencils (or an electric sharpener) was worth it. I still can’t feel every part of that finger. Continue reading “The Day Every Mother Loves to Hate”

The Parent Games

Being home alone with two young kids who aren’t allowed to watch anything but the Olympics for its duration is bound to inspire. If you think about it, there’s not much difference between being a parent and being an Olympian.

Whether Olympian or parent, some days really are about who is faster and/or stronger. Both feel the bewilderment of being ahead right up to the very end when victory is taken out from underneath them. Both require constant training, although, parents have you beat time wise, Olympians. Continue reading “The Parent Games”