RAW

There’s something about that third baby that unravels you.

Maybe it’s the sheer exhaustion of having three kids to raise. Maybe it’s knowing what’s ahead and what’s behind and what that means for the right now.  Maybe it’s just because it has to be for you to survive.

Or maybe, for me, it’s just because I’ve changed that much between two and three. I had nearly nine years to recreate my life after all. Maybe I just did a better job this time.

Maybe I’m more prepared, or maybe I’ve just accepted how difficult this part is.

This baby has softened my edges and stretched my perceptions, my roles, and pushed me to hit a reset button, again, but harder.    Continue reading

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HOT MESS

Five weeks.

Baby #3 is five weeks old already. It feels like it’s been five years, and also, five minutes all at once. And you guys, I’m so fucking. . .

TIRED.

You thought I was going to say in love didn’t you?

No. Tired. I am fucking exhausted as fuck.

I mean, yes I am in love with my baby. Over the moon, practically first time mother level to be quite honest. My social feeds are ridiculous and phone’s memory has been evaporated by baby pictures. This little boy is so fucking CUUUUTTTTEEE.

But that’s not my point, today. He is adorable. I am delighted to be a mother again. But I am also, as you may have caught on— Continue reading

GET YOURS


So my birthday is today and I’m now a number that is bigger than the number I was yesterday. Also, I am part of the TEDxSacramento Core team. Also, we have an event today, on my birthday. Also, also, that means I will be at TEDxSacramento, as a part of the core team, on my birthday for the birthday that is for a number that is bigger than the one I was yesterday.

Squeal!

Guess what else? Since last year when I was in New York City having the best.day.ever with my then-boyfriend-now-husband, we’ve done some epic shit. We got married, for that one thing, did a bunch of yoga shit, took some trips, started some projects, moved, and created some cool experiences for the kids. I earned clients and work that align with who I am as a human being and what I’m up to, started growing a baby that’s due this coming winter, oh, and in a little under a month we’ll be announcing our new yoga home, one that is partly . . . OURS.

No big deal. Continue reading

SPIN

Worried your child isn’t turning out to be the superstar you had planned for him to be? Recently scored “yes” on the “Is My Kid An Asshole” quiz? Fear not. Success is all in the eye of the beholder. There’s a silver lining in every cloud, an Elmo in every Oscar, and room for vodka in every receptacle filled to mid capacity. So drop that mom guilt by the side of the road, grab a set of rose colored glasses (definition of “glasses” open to interpretation) and get to work on reframing that whole deal, stat.

For example,

If your child:

Then:

Speaks fluent sass.

You should have her tested for GATE. Sarcasm is lost on the un-witty and unintellegent folk. Based on this premise and her current skill level you might just have a genius on your hands. Watch out world.

Suffers from chronic item loss and an inoperable search function.

He’s not disorganized and helpless. He is an individual! A free spirit. He isn’t going to let people tell HIM to stay in any stupid box. As proof of this creative energy, and since you can’t find a matched pair,  “let” him wear one each of two different shoes.  Preface it with a pep talk on being a nonconformist trend setter. Practice this speech a few times, just in case you want to uh, use it one someone else. Like the school secretary. And your child’s teacher.

Is a runner. Not, unfortunately, just on a track.

Congratulations! She is an explorer. A pioneer. An adventurer. A future in leading great expeditions is in her near and prosperous grasp. Assuming, that is, that you don’t actually lose her first.

Is a picky eater.

That kid has discriminating taste, in a good way. Just think of all the bad dates she’ll pass up because they a) smell funny, b) look strange, c) aren’t part of a very narrow range of acceptable, albeit arbitrary, criteria.

Has terrible table manners.

Cha-ching. Thing of all the money you are going to save by never eating out. Like, never ever. For at least the next decade.

Can’t sit still. Not even for ten seconds. Hell, not even for two seconds.

Sweet. Meet the newest member of The Wiggles. I hear they’re worth millions. Or, if that doesn’t work out, you’ve got a front runner for a shake weights ad. Leverage your resources and put that bounce to work. Literally.

Is a Pack Rat. All his toys are his favorite. He cannot give any of them away. Ever.

Someday that kid will be a millionaire by selling his vintage Iron Man 3 toy, NIB, to some other sad sad soul. Enjoy the mini-mansion he’s obliged to buy you as reparation for storage space with the profit.

Suffers from loss of floor space. She can’t remember what color the carpet is in her room because it’s been that long since she’s been able to see it.

Excellent. I read that Hoarders is looking for volunteers for their show. No work for you and you’ll be on t.v.! Win-win.

Interrupts you, regularly, incessantly and at a volume that makes you wonder if she has a mic on.

She obviously has a future career as a game or talk show host. Kanye West will be her first guest. Mike Posner will make a musical appearance and the YouTube video will go viral within 24 hours.

Cannot follow simple directions. The 100 steps for building a lego airplane? No Problem. The three tasks to do before leaving the house? He forgot #2 already.

Breathe a sigh of relief and cross one thing off your to-do list. Finally, someone who can read the instruction manual that came with your new e-reader. Let him have at it. Just be sure to tune in now and then so you know how to like, turn it on and off and stuff since he probably won’t be able to recap the instructions in your language.

See? Your child really is perfect; it’s all in how you spin it, sister.
Problem.Solved.

 

 

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