“Oh great, another mom blog”

I know what you’re thinking.. Another wannabe mom blogger sitting in her pj’s (even though it’s well past noon), covered in spit-up and breast milk, trying to keep herself occupied while her child naps. Well, you’re not wrong. Fortunately for those of you reading, the ability to “sleep while the baby sleeps” is something I do not possess, and there is only so much daytime television one person can handle.

So here I am. Filthy and tired and reheating that cold cup of coffee that I brewed 4 hours ago yet never got the chance to drink (see what I did there?) because my child has been clinging to me all morning like a wet noodle. Here I am, sitting in a dark nursery behind a backlit screen, sharing a piece of my life with each of you. Finding solace in every key stroke and momentary release from an often mundane routine. (NOT THAT I DON’T LOVE MY CHILD. It’s just that my life these days consists of dirty diapers and peekaboo. Oh how times have changed.)

To say these past 3 months of motherhood have been a wild ride would be understated. At the risk of sounding cliché, it has been a roller coaster of emotions, ranging from pure, incomprehensible love, to overwhelming frustration, to crippling fear and anxiety. I would be lying if I told you I’ve never sobbed uncontrollably on the shower floor, unsure of how I could possibly make it another day. I would also be lying if I told you I’ve never sobbed uncontrollably because I just can’t wrap my head around what I’ve done in this life to deserve such a perfect little human.

I think Elisa Albert summed it up best (you can buy her book here) when she said:

Sometimes I’m with the baby and I think: you’re my heart and my soul, and I would die for you.
Other times I think: tiny moron, leave me the fuck alone so I can slit my wrists in the bath and die in peace.

Because at the end of the day, no matter how much you love your children, being a mom is hard. However, it’s reassuring to know that at any given moment, there are at least a few dozen other moms out there who feel the exact same way.

And that’s partly what brought me here. Sure, this blog is about more than just motherhood, but it’s also my outlet to share experiences, frustrations, lessons, and the milestones that make this journey so universal.

Before my daughter Ava was born, I swore that I was totally prepared. I had this. By nature I’m meticulously organized. I had PLANS. I had backup plans. I had telehealth on speed dial and spent hours upon hours on Pinterest, pinning everything from “5 Natural Teething Remedies” to “How to Mentally Survive the Newborn Phase”

But with each passing day, one thing has become abundantly clear: I have no idea what I’m doing. No amount of reading or preparation could ever be enough for the very real experience of becoming a parent for the first time. And that’s what makes it so exciting. Diving head first into the biggest unknown you’ll ever face. With good intentions, hope in your heart and not a single clue.

Maybe my kid will end up a deranged criminal. Maybe she’ll end up the next Prime Minister of Canada. Only time will tell.

But until then, I plan to give her love, nurturing, and just enough disfunction to be funny.


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