Leaps and bounds…

Last night I got 6 hours of sleep in a row, which piggy backed on the 4 hour nap I took on Memorial Day, so I am mostly feeling like a new woman…which means I am approaching this whole “weaning” experience from a new angle. Mostly, the angle involves a lot of questions about practicality of those gentle weaning tips that article espoused. Cover the boobs? Okay, I can do that…sort of…but things like “don’t offer, don’t refuse” seems muddled. Don’t refuse? As in…never refuse?

Maybe my thinking is too black and white about that, but it doesn’t seem to jive with the recommendation of “setting boundaries.” Which is it, lady, ‘not refusing’ or ‘sometimes-refusing-when-I’m-setting-a-boundary’? Also, Potamus doesn’t have words yet, so he points to his lip and makes an “eh, meh” sound to indicate he wants to nurse. Or he pulls on my shirt. When my eyes are closed in the middle of the night and he’s crying I don’t see the lip-pointing motion and sometimes he’s too distraught to ask, so I just offer. Ooops, guess that goes against the rules suggestions.

Also, he’s used the lip pointing for Corn Chex, so maybe I’m just reading the signs wrong.

Also…there are darn tootin’ times that I don’t want his newly vampiric teeth anywhere near my nipple, and so, even if he asks nicely, I’m going to say “hell no.”

But something has shifted in my thinking. I’ve felt this sense of calm about the whole weaning issue. It’s not about weaning, it’s about letting my baby grow up. In the past week he’s tried so many new foods, begun RUNNING and CLIMBING (like onto the couch, no big deal, just chillin’ with the dog), throwing the ball, KICKING the ball…it’s like he’s gone from baby to kid, overnight. He has had a few long sleeping stretches and suddenly has only been nursing 1-2 times a day. This might change, but I have looked at him and realized…

I don’t need him to nurse to feel bonded with him.

I know that I’ve nursed for his sake, but also for my sake, and I’m okay now with him weaning if he’s ready. I’m also okay with it going on a little longer, too, if he wants. I feel like it’s just happening all in leaps and bounds, and we’re both growing up so fast. It’s amazing what a little sleep will do for perspective, eh?

17 Month Photobomb :)

books are fun!

Potamus was 17 months on the 20th, and from the latest doctor’s visit we know that he’s almost 24 lbs. He has 4 teeth, is walking AND climbing AND dancing (and walking backward, which he thinks is hilarious). He’s tried 5 new foods in the past two days (apple slices, lemon poppyseed muffin, bacon, chocolate covered doughnuts and soy meatballs in his marinara sauce) While not all healthy, I’m just glad he’s trying some new things….

While I was out being a bridesmaid, he was hanging out with his “Uncle Tio” and auntie. These pictures were captured during their playtime. I love seeing how much he grows and changes daily! His favorite activity is shaking the maracas, and he’s been so vigorous that he’s broken a few already. Grandma got these new ones in hopes that they’ll be a little more indestructible than the dollar store variety!

MARACAS!

I love that his proud, concentrated look was caught on camera! I see this face all the time!

Of course, like any other child of the 21st Century, this kiddo loves his cell phone. He babbles into anything remotely shaped like a phone, which is hilarious to me. Clearly he is mimicking us, but the sound of his pretend half of a conversation is so darn cute…makes me wonder if he wonders what we’re doing talking in half sentences into the phone?

Always a bridesmaid, never a…

…well, we all know that phrase doesn’t really apply to me, since I’m clearly married. But seriously, the amount of weddings I’ve been in the past two years is ridonkulous. But, this weekend I got to see my junior high/high school/college friend Marie get hitched in “Seattle” (okay, out in the toolies of Snohomish), and it was SO MUCH FUN. Granted, I am walking like a zombie since Potamus is sick and I’ve been working on three-ish hours of sleep for almost a week. I’m also stuffed up and not sleeping well, thanks to some killer hydrangea and cottonwood allergies. Yay!

Central throws team

What is fun about college friendships is getting to reunite at weddings. Two of her bridesmaids and I were on the same track team in college. While I wasn’t super close to these girls in college, we were acquantences, and had A BLAST getting caught up and doing totally stupid college things, like pretending to be cheerleaders (hilarious since we threw shotputs and were not in the slightest bit girly in athletics).

trying our best to be cheerleaders, this is as far as we got

Marie’s angels

Look, over yonder, a great bridesmaid photo op!

The wedding had to be moved indoors because of threat of rain, so after the ceremony we took some sweet pictures outside. Marie was less than thrilled about my suggestion to climb into the waterfall for pictures, so we had to wait until she was firmly out of site to take our moment…

we throw shotputs. we are amazons.

While stressful at moments, everything went of pretty much without a hitch. Things got delayed here and there, and sometimes tensions were high, but I loved that the bridesmaids all bonded together. Weddings are funny, they’re kinda like summer camp when you bond with people and you become fast friends and then you basically never see them again. Ha!

 

It was a beautiful ceremony and I am so happy that my friend is married. Her sweetheart is quite a guy and they are perfect for each other. I love it when couples complement each other so well!

I was worried about leaving Potamus for such a long time (we didn’t get home until after 11), but he did just fine with grandma and grandpa. He actually slept better there than over here, which is annoying! So it was nice that Boof and I got to cut a rug on the dance floor sans baby. All in all, exhausting, I am sore in places I didn’t know I could be sore (too much jumping, dancing, climbing over waterfalls), so I’m happy that it’s a short work week!

Cover Up Those Boobs!

I’m basically a wreck.

Last night I half-joked in a crazy sleep deprived stupor “maybe if I bash his head into the wall he’ll stop crying.” Boof immediately snapped “that’s not even funny to joke about.”

I know. I know it’s not funny. I wasn’t trying to be funny. I was trying to prove a point that I am exhausted and a sick kid who can’t sleep any way but being held is not helping the matter. I try really hard to be the mom I want to be, but sometimes I just have to admit that I am fucking exhausted. Fucking exhausted.

I don’t know how other nursing mother’s do it, or if their children are just amazing at the whole sleep thing, but Potamus sucks at sleeping. Seriously. He sucks without me, and he’s only marginally better with me present. I read those things about human development and bonding and attachment and psychology and I know that, in the grand scheme of things, I am doing a really good thing for Potamus. But I am also concerned that I am losing myself slowly into a pit of black or white thinking about nursing. It’s been 17 months, over 3500 nursing sessions to date, and frankly, I am exhausted.

I also love nursing. Really love it. Love the bonding time with Potamus and the way in which it easily calms him down. But I need more than 2-3 hours of sleep at a time. Because, there’s only been a handful of times, in 17 months that I have gotten more than 4 hours of sleep in a row. Actually, it’s been twice, and it was one 6 hour stretch (that he slept, I only slept for 5) and one five hour stretch. The only time I’ve napped for as long as I need has been twice, in the past two months. On paper it looks like I’m getting 6-7 hours of sleep a night, but it is so chopped up and full of movement (from room to room) that I don’t think I’ve had a full sleep cycle in a few months. I’m hypervigilant about NOT sleeping, for example this afternoon I barely let myself get sleepy during naptime, because once I started to doze, after 30 minutes, he was awake, crying, and I couldn’t get him back to sleep…nor could I go back to sleep. It’s causing me to be crazy. I literally feel crazy.

So I think about weaning.

I wonder, is it even worth it anymore?

When I don’t have thoughts of dashing my kid against the fireplace, it’s thoughts of running away, not telling anybody, and sleeping in a hotel bed for a week. I’m literally that exhausted. And we’re crazily thinking of having another kid. I just might freak out.

It’s a chicken-and-egg problem..I’m so tired that the thought of beginning to wean in anything other than cold-turkey is exhausting. Putting up with tantrums and slow progression and figuring out alternatives (especially when we can’t figure out alternatives to even food). I read an article entitled 12 Tips for Gentle Weaning and thought there were some really good suggestions. I think I’ve been wishy washing on the whole weaning issue, wanting it to be solely child-led, but I’m wondering if I’m becoming a doormat in this relationship. It’s been easier to just give in then stand up for myself and what I need in a moment.

While I’ve noticed that we’ve cut back some, it hasn’t really been consistent…I give mixed messages, like when it says don’t offer, don’t refuse. Whoa, that’s pretty mind-blowing. I offer all the time, especially at night. I flop down and whip it out. There have even been times when he hasn’t even moved toward the boob and I think “um, what? he doesn’t want to nurse?” Wowzers, I have some things to work on.

And, I had to laugh, at the “cover up your boobs,” (okay, it just says cover up), but holy crumb cakes, a nursling can be triggered to nurse for up.to.a.year post weaning. Wow. I feel that I know so little about this whole process. I guess I just assumed that one day it would just stop…and that I wouldn’t miss it, and he wouldn’t miss it, and bam bam bam we’d be on our way. I guess if it was hard to start, with weeks of struggle and crying and feeling totally overwhelmed, then the end of a good thing is going to be hard for both of us. But I hadn’t even though that what I am wearing could possibly be contributing to him prolonging the nursing. I’ve just been wearing skimpy tanktops because I had gotten so accustomed to needing to whip it out quickly.

But then I also wonder…if he was just a better sleeper…if we did different routines at night when he wakes up sad, would that help? I don’t want to make any rash decisions based on being exhausted…but I don’t think I’ll be less exhausted until I, at least, explore the option of him sleeping better. I just don’t know. I’m all sorts of muddled in the head. I know he’s sick-ish, and teething, and don’t want to just freak out irrationally, but I am so tired. I just want a kid who sleeps for more than 3 hours at a time, you know? I keep hoping and waiting and hoping it’ll happen, but it’s not, and so I think I need to do something different.

Suggestions?

Gov. Inslee signs bill giving adoptees more access to birth records | The Politics Blog – The Olympian

You guys, I am so excited. Like, thrilled. After over 5 years of working in advocacy for adoptees, I have finally gotten the results I want: access to my Original Birth Certificate! Read all about the new law granting Washington Adoptees access to their records!

Gov. Inslee signs bill giving adoptees more access to birth records | The Politics Blog – The Olympian.

Now, many non-adoptees often scratch their head at this declaration that I believe I am ENTITLED to my own records and history, ala my original birth certificate. Some are shocked that I don’t already have it and others often go to the “but birthmother’s need privacy,” route.

Well, actually, the history of sealed birth records is a lot more involved than that, but I’m not going to go into the long drawn-out history (that is more beneficial for adoptive families and adoption agencies), because I wan’t to CELEBRATE!

I’ll have to wait a year, still, to give time for the law to go completely into effect, but I’m looking forward to that day where I’ll be able to see MY TRUTH reflected in MY birth certificate, listing MY BIOLOGICAL PARENTS as the ones who birthed me. No offense to my adoptive parents, but listing them as the ones who fired me out of their crotch isn’t historically or biologically accurate!

Mother Identity Dysmorphia

Not too long ago I tackled the Teacher Identity question in my On Being Labelled “Nice” by my students entry. Because, frankly, I don’t think of myself as “nice,” very often. And, this question sorta popped up over the weekend when I was thinking about my style of mothering.

Now, it sorta goes back to my view of my own (adoptive) mother, who was very guided by her head, intellect and kept safe by forming strict boundaries and rules. Doing something was “because I said so,” and there was little wiggle room to negotiate out of something. Now, these aren’t bad traits to have, but I think that sometimes it’s okay to examine the entirety of a situation before you hang your hat on ‘these lima beans must be eaten or you’re going hungry.’ I’ve heard of parents making their kid go hungry if they didn’t eat the dinner they cooked, but my mom made us eat it…eventually. Don’t want it for dinner? Fine. You’ll have it for breakfast. Don’t want it for breakfast? Fine, you’ll have it for lunch. The longest I made it was to breakfast the next day (I usually caved and just ate it for dinner), but my sister once made it 24 hours before finally caving.

I think that’s a bit extreme.

So, while I don’t necessarily think that I am quite that extreme, I feel that I am somehow destined, in some small way, to be my mother. I don’t know why…maybe it’s because I long to have the mother I wanted growing up, the nuruturing BFF type relationship that certainly won’t ever happen between my (adoptive) mom and I (and certainly won’t happen between my biological mom and I, since she’s severely damaged by years of drugs/alcohol). For some reason I have internalized the “just like your mother” line, when, in reality, I’m actually not a lot like my mother at all.

Sure, as Boof says, I have this “bright and shining energy” around people I like and in situations I feel comfortable. He went as far as saying “you have a glow, it’s warm and brightens a room” (which, if you know Boof, that’s actually quite a high compliment). And he then proceeds to say, ‘and when you don’t like someone, or you feel uncomfortable, your energy is cold an reserved. While most people we encounter vary between apathetically lukewarm to warm, you are bright and warm or cold and cool.” Hmm, sounds a bit “bi-polar” in the colloquial-and-not-DSM IV-diagnosis-sense. I’m either hot or cold. So how does this relate to motherhood?

I tend to think of myself as a cold mother.

But, at nighttime, when Potamus has the choice whether to sit and snuggle in his bed with me, or bounce on the exercise ball with Boof, he dives into my neck and buries himself there, almost pleading when Boof picks him up to bounce to sleep. I am the one he goes to for comfort, and while I know that we, too, went to my mother for scrapes and boo boos as kids, we certainly didn’t do the snuggly thing…that was reserved for my (adoptive) dad, who has a much more snuggly personality.

So what, my kid likes to snuggle with me. Does that make me a ‘nice’ mom? A warm mom? A nurturing individual? I said, “well, I guess baby porcupines snuggle with mama porcupines,” which brought a laugh from Boof…but I guess that’s how I see myself…like a porcupine…prickly and standoffish, though my kid’s experience of me is clearly different. Boof responded, “um, you’ve been nursing our kid for a year and a half, you wouldn’t do that if you weren’t nurturing.” “Also, the only times I’ve seen you be cold to him is when you’re half asleep, or one time when you were awake, but it’s mostly only ever when you’re really tired.” Oh. Hmm. I guess that’s a point, though I might do it out of obligation or because I don’t want a tantrum. Regardless, it seems like my kid, the world around me, and even my very own husband seems to think I’m a nuruturing, “nice,” loving and patient mother.

So why don’t I think that?

Now don’t get me wrong, for living in this digital mommy-wars age, I actually think I’m a kickass mama…for the most part. I really enjoy my kid, we do a lot of really fun things together, and I enjoy snuggling up to him at the end of the day. So why is there this nagging not-nurturing-enough thought in my head? Am I worried that one day I’m going to just crack and bust out the cold-ass-bitchiness in relation to him? I dunno?

Do you ever feel that how you perceive yourself isn’t quite how other people perceive you to be? How do we combat that?

When everything around you is annoying…

maybe it’s you that has a problem?

I don’t know if that’s a fact, but yesterday we got home from the in-law’s and I was kvetching about EVERYTHING. Seriously. I know that we’ve been doing Sunday dinner at the in-laws every week for FIVE years, and that I’ve had similar spells where I am just done with it. And then we always come back, it’s something about family that keeps sucking us back in. Sigh. So after complaining about the time of dinner (always later than intended) and the purposelessness I feel sitting around their house on Sunday (I could be doing other things! OR we could be doing other things, together, like playing games or talking or SOMETHING!), it then spiralled into complaining about my mother-in-law trying to feed Potamus Teddy Grahams at dinner, though she knows how hard we’ve been working to get him to eat things OTHER THAN COOKIES. Ugh. And the awkward interactions with Potamus by Auntie and Grandpa, it just spiralled into a ball of too-muchness that I could handle.

So we were trying to get a plan for how we want to break this annoying cycle, and I then started ranting on about my own sister and her boyfriend and complaining about the dinner we had on Saturday and it was just like…

Dude, Monk-Monk, get a grip. If this much stuff is annoying you, then it’s probably your issue, and not those other things.

Boof didn’t actually say that, it was something that I thought and then said aloud. But it’s probably a combination…annoying things PLUS my reaction to them. I’ve never been one to really hide my emotions. And I’m not easily persuaded out of a mood if I’m moody. Fortunately I haven’t actually been that annoyed with Potamus, but even Boof has been getting on my nerves. Like, for example, last Friday when we were supposed to be spending his birthday dinner at a nice restuarant, I was annoyed with him ALL DAY. Except…well…he wasn’t actually home. I had all of these imaginary annoying conversations in my head about how frustrated I was over this or that, and none of it was actually real. And yet, I was annoyed nonetheless.

So, what to do?

I mean, I’ve thought of going back to therapy this summer, when I have a little more time, but what should I be doing NOW when it seems like everything is annoying me. Am I focusing on the wrong things? Are things really annoying? HELP!

Advice dear bloggy readers? What do you do when it seems like anyone and everyone/everything is just annoying?

 

 

Seattle’s Dirty Girl Mud Run!

Team Mud Hens

I did it! Seattle’s Dirty Girl 5k Mud Run & Obstacle course! While it was called “Seattle’s” Dirty Girl Run, it was actually held in the city of Snohomish, about an hour outside of the city (and not even in the same county!). My friend, and our team captain, carpooled together since we live only a few minutes away from each other. It was nice to ride up together!

gearing up for the first obstacle!

 

I was on team Mud Hens with a friend and a bunch of her friends/co-workers. Our vibe was fun, chill and TOTALLY supportive, with all fitness levels represented! I loved that it was a female only event, and that it was un-timed. While some teams seemed, more…competitive…we were definitely all about having fun and completing the course as a team.

trail running

 

The course was divided into 11  obstacles over a 5k stretch on the Green Meadows Farm. I was nervous ahead of time, because I didn’t do any research on the obstacles, but I found that I was able to complete each of them!

on top of a muddy culvert

 

net crawl…no way to not get dirty!

 

Events included things like: slogging through mud pits, climbing up mud hills, crawling through troughs of water and mud, and climbing over walls. I knew I could do the fun mud pits, crawling through water troughs and sliding down the hilarious pink inflatable slide. What I didn’t think I could do so well were the walls and the climbing nets.

dancing across the finish line!

 

Probably the best part ever? Beer garden post-race, with 1 free beer for race participants! Woo! Now that’s a way to celebrate our accomplishment! While I only ran a few segments of the race, probably no more than 3/4 of a mile total, my body feels wrecked today. I think it was a combination of the rugged farm trails and all of the obstacles, utilizing muscles I haven’t used for awhile (like, since 3rd grade monkey bars! ha!).

Thinking about doing a mud run/obstacle course? Here are a few suggestions:

-find a fun team that will encourage you regardless of your fitness level!
-Costumes! Ours helped unify our team, though next year we’re talking about going even more ALL OUT! There were so many fun costumes there, including old prom dresses, one girl in a wedding dress, superheros, mardi gras masks, plenty of tutus and other hilarious nonsense.
– Do an early heat! Race started at 8, with waves every 15 minutes. We went at 9 and it was perfect. The course took longer than expected, and as we were finishing up, we could see the later heats really bottle-necked on certain events. Going early meant coming back early enough so we could take a sweet nap!
– Wear old rubber gloves! I loved this suggestion from fellow teammate, it really saved my hands during the rope challenges, and while they’re all squishy and icky feeling in the mud, it’s better than having no skin left on your hands 🙂
-Bring a garbage bag and extra change of clothes (plus towel AND underwear, cause that’ll be sloshy, too).
-Have fun! Because that’s what it’s all about 🙂

Versatile Blogger

Me? Little old me? A versatile blogger? Well, yes, according to the lovely Charlotte Porter over at Momaste Blog. She’s pretty awesome, so head on over and check her out!

Hopefully I’m more Adele and less Taylor Swift in my acceptance speech, so here it goes:

7 “Fun” Facts about Me:

1) In my mid-20’s I legally changed my name to a shortened nickname of my adoptive name (note, not Monk-Monk). I got rid of my middle name, which sucked, and made my maiden name my middle name.

2)  I am 6’1. I have been this tall since I was 12. Needless to say, it made dating rough in middle school.

3) I am a college instructor in a program for 16-20 year old high school dropouts who are trying to receive their AA.

4) At one point I could identify 42 wildflowers native to the Cascade Mountains.

5) I have been wearing earplugs to sleep since college. Once, Boof bought me a box of 1,000 earplugs because Scrummy, the dog, kept eating them.

6) I used to want to be a National Park ranger, but then I learned they had to carry guns and I wasn’t so down with that. But leading a nature walk, that’d be cool!

7) I feel the most comfortable sipping a cappuccino in a small, independent, coffee shop.

And now, to the fun part!

I get to nominate 7 other lovely bloggers for this award. All they have to do, to accept, is list 7 fun facts about themselves and pay it forward to 7 other bloggers!

1.  Keeping it Real Mom: I’m a big fan of keeping it real, and Anka does just that…tells it like it is!

2. Faded Seaside Mama: I’m a sucker for pictures of cuties, and this Mama has two in her daughters Bunny and Bear!

3. Faking Picture Perfect: Well yeah, the title totally sums up life as a family, right?! Meredith has a way of making me laugh and feel not-so-alone in my crazy life as a mom!

4. Know All’s Box: Yeah, I’m partial to the combination of photos AND India, and I love looking at the diversity of pictures that he puts on the blog!

5. The Laotian Commotion: Theek is amazing and as a local girl I admire her peaceful parenting, tandem nursing, and ability to make a meme go viral. Seriously.

6. Insert Bad Movie Title Here: This girl is my homegirl. I’ve known her in another online capacity for awhile and always love what she has to write about, especially since she’s giving voice to the adoptee experience!

7. Excitement on the Side:. I love Kelly’s tell-it-like-it-is writing style and her passion for fitness AS a mother!

There you have it readers! A little bit about me and who I’ve been reading lately! Hope your Friday is wonderful!

Daycare Drama

First day in his new big-boy classroom!

At every turn in my parenting adventure I am surprised with how laid back or relaxed I am about parenting the sweet Potamus. In so many ways there is this sweet understanding between the two of us, where I anticipate his needs and we have a great time. He cries and is demanding and tantrummy and I have said ‘shut up!’ before, but for the most part, I have surprised myself with my lack of severe black/white rigidity that I had anticipated as a parent. In that way, I am nothing like my mother. I have boundaries and we have a routine, but it’s loose and can change and is more about preserving love and happiness than simply doing something “because I said so damnit.”

But nowhere more does my mama guilt or feelings of inadquecy rise like dealing with daycare. Now, don’t get me wrong, I really like his daycare. The teachers, for the most part, have been really sweet and helpful and have taken good care of my sweet boy. But there are comments and issues that arise that have made me question my parenting skills, my child’s adjustment, labels and make me freaked out about the future, since it will only intensify as he begins school and the rest of his life, right?

Potamus is still struggling to eat at daycare. Since we’ve stopped sending yogurt he has gone hungry (though it’s been the equivalent of 3 days, so I’m not super worried…yet). He naps and seems happy when we get home and isn’t STARVING right away, so I’m sure he’s not lacking the nutrition he needs. But it makes me worried, because mamas want their kiddos to eat, and the daycare workers keep saying things like “he doesn’t eat. this is something he’ll have to practice at home.” I start to second guess myself, though MY KID EATS AT HOME! Tortellini, ravioli, broccoli, blueberries, mandarin oranges, cauliflower, peanut butter crackers/toast, rice/beans, french fries, pizza, chicken tenders, crackers, freeze dried bananas, yogurt, banana/egg pancakes are all things he will eat pretty consistently. Not sure why he won’t eat anything at daycare…sigh…

Last week they informed me that he will be moving up to his big-boy classroom (yay! out of the infant room! with kids his own age! less money!), and on Monday his teachers took him over there to get settled. He did AMAZING. He didn’t cry and he napped like a champ, and besides the not eating issue, he was so well adjusted. Today’s morning drop-off, though, was less than happy. Not knowing the routine yet, I had to fill out some paperwork and then we went back to the class, and I made a BIG mistake. He was crying, teacher scooped him up and distracted him, and it was all calm and so, before I left, I peeked my head back in the window and BAM eye contact and hysterical crying all over again. In the almost-6-months of daycare I haven’t made that mistake, but for some reason, today, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see him be fine, and I probably ruined it for him for awhile. Sad times.

I don’t knwo why I just feel so…off…in my parenting as it relates to the daycare. I feel like a terrible mom for forgetting shoes on Monday, though I didn’t know he was going to need them (since they don’t need them in the infant room) or a crib sheet (again, since they don’t use them in the infant room). These were things that I DIDN’T KNOW, and yet felt bad about. Or feeling bad that my kid will, probably, go hungry today and be labelled a “picky eater” at school and that might affect his development or peer relationships and then I start to spiral downward and think that my kid is going to end up in some freaking special education class drooling on himself because he doesn’t eat their oatmeal.

Boof says to stop worrying about it. He says that it is THEIR job to get him to eat at school and THEIR job to inform us of changes and policies. I get that. My logical brain says, “no sweat,” to dealing with daycare expectations. Talking with my other career-loving mom friends, daycare drop-offs are hard for them, too…and they too feel judged. One said, “it’s like they think they could parent better than me. sometimes I wish they would.” Preach it sista!

So, in theory I GET IT…but, let’s be honest, I still FEEL guilty. Maybe it’s not daycare, maybe it’s something else, so: how do YOU get rid of the mommy guilt?