BBQ Chicken Baked Potatoes

bbqchickenpotato

BBQ Chicken Potatoes

4-6 Baking Potatoes scrubbed clean

Salt and Olive Oil for Roasting

1 lb Chicken Tenders/ Sliced Breasts

1 cup Shredded Cheddar

1 bottle BBQ Sauce

Ranch to taste

1/2 cup Apple Sauce

1/2 tsp Chili Powder

1/2 tsp Black Pepper

2 Tbsp Brown Sugar

Bake salted/oiled potatoes in 400 degree oven until tender (about one hour). Slice open once cooled and top with 1/3 cup BBQ chicken mixture and cheddar. Return to oven for 10 minutes or until cheese has bubbled. Top with drizzle of ranch and BBQ sauce. Serve with a side of steamed broccoli.

For BBQ Chicken: Add 1 lb raw chicken sliced into tenders to slow cooker with 1 cup BBQ sauce, 1/2 cup apple sauce, 1/2 tsp black pepper, 1/2 tsp chili powder, and 2 Tbsp brown sugar. Cook on low for 4-6 hours until meat shreds easily with two forks. Shred and reserve for potatoes.

Image courtesy of: http://asunshinyday.com/shredded-chicken-bbq-baked-potato/

I’m Just Hormonal

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“I am just hormonal.” I have said this more times in my life than I can remember. At least once a month since age thirteen and about 30 times a day during my pregnancies, breastfeeding, Tuesdays, etc. Per Merriam Webster

A hormone is a natural substance that is produced in the body and that influences the way the body grows or develop.

Let the weight of that sink in for a second. Hormones control everything from hunger to physical attraction. They are medically for lack of a better word, legit. So why do we (especially as women) use the term to explain away true feelings, both physical and emotional?  Its as if the feeling is less reasonable if there is a potential hormonal component, when in fact the opposite may be true. Being pregnant my emotions are running higher than usual. Not to say I am the most even keeled person the rest of the time, but currently my toddler and I are vying for most emotionally stable. Spoiler alert, he’s winning.

In my experience the hardest part of this is the anxiety/snap/guilt cycle as I like to call it. I am worried about _______ which could be anything from “I wonder if my son does have an ear infection?” to “In the event of zombie apocalypse, what could I do to help with survival?” Next something somewhat irritating happens: an entire meal thrown on the floor by my toddler or an empty gas tank when I am running late (I hate being late!) The inevitable annoying parts of life that just sort of happen. And I snap with a wayyyy bigger reaction that probably is appropriate. Then the guilt sinks in. Guilt is actually the worst. Anxiety feeds off of guilt. “I am such a terrible mother. Why don’t I have more patience?” “If I were more organized, I would never run out of gas.” To make myself feel better, I will make an excuse like “Ugh, I am just so hormonal.” Why yes I am. I am growing a human. Is that an excuse to lose my cool constantly? Of course not, but it does not mean my feelings silly or unfounded.

I fully believe that feeling like hormonal complaints are invalid is a core reason anxiety, depression, post-partum anxiety/depression, breastfeeding related hormonal disorders, premenstrual dysphoric disorder, thyroid conditions, the list goes on are under diagnosed/treated in women. We, especially mothers, think we should just handle it. I am in full support of pharmacological treatment for true disorders, especially in combination with therapy. I do believe however, that we could do a lot of good simply by admitting that our physical feelings of yuck and our emotions that we often blow off are valid. That its ok to have a hard time. Its ok to need help. Take Type One Diabetes for example. No one would say “I’m sorry your pancreas doesn’t produce insulin (a hormone), but you really should suck it up and stop being so hormonal.”

Step one is admitting, right?

Now this whole concept is a work in progress. Just ask my husband (Sorry, honey) But I think that if I can legitimize the reason behind my anxiety and guilt, I may actually gain more control and become a little more rational. I mean not completely rational. I am not expecting a personality transplant or anything.  Would I ever tell someone else that their feelings were invalid even if I didn’t understand them? Of course not. We do it to ourselves constantly. My challenge to myself and to you is to give credence to how you are feeling. I am more than just hormonal.

How do hormones impact you? What can you do to legitimize your feelings?

Family Dinner: Authenticity is So Important

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Tonight for dinner, I was so pleased to be able to use the organically grown squash my son and I picked up at the local farm. I find that watching me shave pieces of nature into noodles helps my son develop his fine motor skills. I always strive to live a more organic, kinesthetic philosophy of parenting . After all children are our future. #greenparenting

We’ve all seen this Facebook update. I mean, I’m guilty of trying to make myself look more Pinteresty, more desirable. It is in fact ruining us all. I have mountains of anxiety about precisely this issue, so why would I ever play into it further? Because its what you do. A few friends of mine have recently inspired me to try to be more authentic so here it goes.

We did go to an adorable organic farm this week, Providence Farms in Edmond. We did not go because I am trying to save the planet one organically grown zucchini at a time. We went because they open at 8am and Ben woke up at 5:45. I made a casserole with it because we live in Oklahoma and vegetables are so much better with cheese. Utilizing this as a base recipe:

Grilled Zucchini Double Cheese Tuna Bake a delicious healthy, cheesy and creamy bake, the perfect family dinner summer casserole. A new favorite/anitalianinmykitchen.com

Photo and recipe credit: https://anitalianinmykitchen.com/grilled-zucchini-double-cheese-tuna-bake/

Course: Main Dish
Cuisine: Italian
Servings6 servings
Calories382 kcal
AuthorRosemary
Ingredients
  • 3 medium zucchini sliced (not too thin) lengthwise and grilled
  • 6 ounces tuna 140 grams
  • 1 1/2 tablespoons bread crumbs 10 grams
  • 1 cup shredded firm mozzarella 100 grams
  • 1 egg slightly beaten
  • 1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese + extra for sprinkling 25 grams
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil 15 grams
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt 2.6 grams
  • 1/2 teaspoon parsley .3 grams
  • 1/2 cup white sauce homemade or storebought 120 grams
  • HOMEMADE WHITE SAUCE**
  • 1 tablespoons butter 15 grams
  • 1 tablespoon flour 13 grams
  • 1/2 pinch salt
  • 1 1/4 cups milk 280 grams
  1. Pre-heat oven to 350° (180° celsius), lightly grease a deep (8×6 inch / 20×15 centimeter) baking dish
  2. In a medium bowl mix together, tuna, bread crumbs, mozzarella, egg, Parmesan, olive oil, salt and parsley.
  3. Line the baking dish to cover the bottom with grilled zucchini top with 1/3 tuna mixture and pour half the white sauce on top, cover with another layer of grilled zucchini, 1/3 tuna mixture and remaining half of the white sauce, cover with remaining grilled zucchini, tuna mixture and sprinkle with freshly grated parmesan (how much you want), bake for approximately 20-25 minutes, let sit 5 minutes and serve. Enjoy!
  4. **Homemade White Sauce: In a small pot on medium heat add the butter until melted, add flour and salt and whisk to combine, add milk and continue whisking until thickened. Remove from heat.

I bet it would have been delicious. Problem was I had no bread crumbs, Parmesan, or patience.

My version involved swapping breadcrumbs for StoveTop Stuffing. Obviously, you have this on hand after an August trip to Target while hungry and pregnant. I prepared the stuffing and used it as a layer. There was additionally no grilling of zucchini. Whatever random squash I bought was shaved thin and used as noodles without the benefit of aesthetically pleasing grill marks. Layer mystery squash, tuna/Stovetop mixture, and white sauce in lasagna fashion. Be sure to eat a handful of shredded mozzarella. Top with extra cheese and some crushed up potato chips because 1) My MIL always used potato chips in her tuna noodle casserole and I didn’t one time and it was “fine” but not the same 2)  This is America. 3) If my husband errr…toddler is eating squash instead of real noodles I am thrilled enough and will entice with whatever necessary. 350 for 50 min. Pairs well with Chardonnay and zero ounces of motherhood guilt.

Authors note: I wish I could really have had it with chardonnay. #pregnant

5 Reasons Why the Family Bed Is Not For My Family

  1. I am a self proclaimed safe sleep psycho. Everyone has their own feelings on where members of the family should sleep. Mine formed long before parenthood. I unfortunately witnessed some devastating consequences of unsafe sleep practices working in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. For this reason, I knew I could never add anything to my son’s crib and I could never co-bed. I could barely sleep after he was born for a probably unhealthy fear of SIDS. Maybe it was post-partum anxiety, but the least I could do to assuage that fear was to make his environment as AAP (American Academy of Pediatrics) safe sleep compliant as possible. Or as a family member joked, “prison like”.  No fluff, no pillows/bumpers, tight fitting crib sheet, and a sleep sack rather than loose blankets. Maybe I will give him a blanket as a high school graduation present.
  2. I am a bad mom when I don’t sleep. Of course like all new moms I have functioned on not enough sleep but I am not nearly as engaging. Those days often involve a screen and a lot of “independent” play. I don’t sleep well when my husband tosses and turns. Let alone if I were dealing with my toddlers acrobatic sleep. Seriously the kid is all over the place.
  3. I believe in self soothing. I know I will get a lot of eye rolls especially from the attachment parenting cohort, but to me raising a child who is learning to manage their feelings is a measure of resiliency. Of course I will be there if he needs me. Sickness, teething and nightmares are part of being a parent. I would never expect him to handle these things on his own but a random night waking, he’s got that! I am also learning this as I go. Sometimes I am too present sometimes probably not present enough, but we are figuring it out. This is something my husband and I both feel very strongly about and it works for us.
  4. My kid won’t do it. When he was tiny I never allowed it (see number one). Recently we found ourselves with a sleepless toddler in a hotel room (or torture chamber for families as I like to call them). I pulled our boy out of the pack and play and tried to get him to settle on me. He wouldn’t do it. He thought that meant it was time to play. This my friends is how you end up driving around Dallas at 3 am with a singing toddler.
  5. It’s important to us as a couple. From talking to friends co-bedding can really impact relationships if both adults aren’t on board. My husband and I try to have State of the Union conversations every so on to check in on issues. This is one on which we have never disagreed. Not that there aren’t others because #marriage. We believe children function best when the marriage comes first.

I will never claim to be some sort of parenting expert. I have one kid with another on the way and am figuring this out just like everyone else. I truly thought we would keep B in our room until 6 months in his bassinet, but at 8 weeks to his nursery he went. The best piece of parenting advice I ever received was when I was pregnant with my son, “Parent within your personality.” You do yourself and your children a disservice when you try to become someone you are not. For me that means separate sleep spaces.

https://www.aap.org/en-us/about-the-aap/Committees-Councils-Sections/Child-Death-Review/Pages/Safe-Sleep.aspx

 

Dear Husband, I’m Sorry You’re My Scapegoat

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Dear Husband,

You are the absolute best man in the world for me. You are handsome, kind, an amazing father, and almost all of the time a fantastic husband. I know I am lucky to have you. Here’s the thing. You also drive me completely nuts. When you slap the beat of a radio song on my thigh as you’re driving or when you forget where the dishwasher/hamper is (again) I kind of wish they had a timeout for adults. Seriously, do I really have to find a grown man’s socks stuffed in the couch?

These little things make me mad. Sometimes more mad than the situation should warrant. Usually it’s not about a stray sock but about my own feelings of being overwhelmed or tired or hungry (Hangry is so a real thing). You have become my scapegoat. You and your socks/uncapped toothpaste/dishes. You are flawed. Some big ones, some small ones. But who wants to be with someone perfect? It’s boring. And I can’t even begin to think about the level of insecurity that would bring to my already self-conscious heart.

I am working on my flaws.

I am working on letting the synapses fully connect in my brain before words exit my mouth. This is a very difficult task for an emotionally extroverted, pregnant, toddler mom. You are worth the effort though. I see your patience and your love for me. It makes me want to be better. We all stumble on the road to being our best selves. Thank you, husband, for creating a secure enough love with me that I can struggle. I can get angry, blame you, fight with you and know you will always be there. You gave a speech at our wedding and in that speech you said, “I promise to continue to fight for us and to make sure every day you know that I love you even more than the day before.” I share in that promise. I will strive to be the best wife I can be to you.

With you I am safe enough to express my feelings even when I, myself, cannot name them. And you will forgive me. You will be patient as I cry over something that doesn’t make sense to you. You will silently help me as I nag you about how you never help. You care for our son with such passion that I fall in love with you all over again. Thank you for loving me through my weaknesses.

“The perfect marriage is two imperfect people who refuse to give up on each other.”

-Kate Stewart

I may nag too much. Praise too little. And not always show you what you mean to me. But know this dear husband, I never want to pick up anyone else’s socks. These things are small potatoes compared to the life and love that we share. You aren’t perfect, but you are beyond perfect for me. Thank you for choosing to live your life with your imperfect wife.

Love,

Me

Nurse to Mom: A Tough Transition

Pediatric Nursing was my biggest passion for the better part of a decade. I spent six of those years tending to the sickest children in the hospital in the pediatric intensive care unit in both Oklahoma City and Richmond, VA. When I hung up my stethoscope for the time being to become a full time stay at home mom, I really believed that my time as a nurse caring for children would be my greatest asset in parenting. Little did I know it would become one of my greatest obstacles.

Becoming a mother changes everything about your life. Sure when you get married your partner’s needs are also on par with yours, but generally speaking he or she is another adult who is capable of self care. Insert a newborn. All needs must be met from an outside source. The same is often true for ICU patients. Regardless of age, often disease process takes away all of the patient’s ability for self care which is where the medical team takes over. So in my head I was convinced I was ready to take on the needs of my own child. How different could it be?

Night and day. Or both rather. There is no such thing as a shift in parenting. No hours or next round of fresh staff to give a formal report and status update to so that you can go home for some R & R. Another stark difference is scheduling. I was incredibly used to the rigid schedules that make an ICU environment thrive. Medications must be given within a certain window or your task turns red in the electronic medical record. Red means late. Red means you some how failed. At work I rarely had a red task. As a new mom, I felt like I lived in the red. He didn’t eat every three hours like the books said he would. He never slept more than two hours at a time. I could not for the life of me get one of the infinite internet-searched schedules to work for us.

He also was not hooked to a million machines measuring each bodily function. I am incredibly thankful to God every day to be the mother of a healthy child. Especially after witnessing so many devastating outcomes over the course of my time in the PICU. Those machines are addictive though. They give your anxiety an analytical lozenge. Is the baby breathing? Why yes! 47 times per minute. Right there in bright, bold text. But how would I know if my own son were to stop breathing at night? It happens. I have seen it. I have done CPR on those babies found down in the morning. I have seen the look of terror/anguish/panic on parents faces. Its so easy to fall asleep on the couch with a newborn and so tempting to just pull them into your bed for a little extra rest. But I couldn’t be “normal” about any of that. Something terrible was going to happen and it would be my fault for not being vigilant. For breaking a rule.

At work there were guidelines and protocols and the ever popular buzz words of evidence based practice. Most questions had an answer. A right or a wrong. You don’t administer Dilantin (a seizure medication) and Morphine together. You turn your patient every two hours, “scrub the hub”, wash your hands, wear an isolation gown, etc. Parenting is largely based on what works for the individual family unit. A you do you approach felt so alien to me. I took to the internet to find parenting protocols. And guess what? I was left even more confused than before. Every person with a laptop has an opinion on parenting. And not like a nice let’s all agree to disagree opinion, but a do it my way or you’ll spend your life savings paying for intensive psychotherapy for your child kind of stance. I felt so overwhelmed with every opposing theory, blog post, and book I read. Thankfully my ER attending husband is a genius and incredibly laid back. He said we will use common sense and do what works. There’s the ER vs the ICU for you.

Slowly I figured out how to wade through all of the “helpful advice” and found my stride as a mother. Well at least for the phases thus far. My child currently sleeps pretty well, eats most things, and is generally a happy kid. All of these things, I am not so naive as to believe, are in a delicate balance than will shift if he gets a tooth, ear infection, on just on a toddler whim. Thankfully I am learning what things are truly important to me to be a stickler about (safe sleep, vaccines, and car seat safety for us) and what things can slide a little (3 servings of vegetables a day….puuuuleaseeee).

Its so funny to me now as a parent to look back at my own childhood and really remember thinking adults had it all figured out. They really do put on a good show for kids. I will forever cherish my ICU nursing days and they may not be gone forever. I just know I cannot parent within that same framework, at least not without all of my hair falling out from the stress of living in the “red”.

 

 

What I Wish People Understood About Withdrawal of Care

There is a tremendous amount of media attention surrounding the Baby Charlie case in the UK right now. I only know what is covered in the media regarding that particular case so I am far from an expert on the details. What I do know is that world leaders, especially those vying to slash funding to similar families in the United States should stop providing false hope and stay off Twitter! It is a terrible tragedy for any parent to have to face such a devastating condition affecting their child. What is even more tragic is that it is very common. People in hospitals across the world face the decision to end treatment deemed medically futile at every hour of every day. As pediatric nurse in two busy ICUs over my career, I have personally witnessed it more times than I can count. What is unique are the circumstances that surround each case. I have seen everything from child abuse to cancer to car accidents even rare diseases such as the horrific one affecting that little boy. No parent should ever have to deal with such horror. But I was not the nurse for the parent, I was the nurse for the child. While of course it’s true that in medicine you do care for the whole family, especially in pediatrics, your true advocacy responsibility lies with the patient.

For most healthcare team members it comes down to quality of life, as it should. What makes this person who they are? As one of my favorite pediatric ICU attending physicians says to parents “Are we doing things for your baby or to your baby?” Just because we have the medical advancements to do more does not always mean that we should. I wish more people understood is that there are things so much worse than death.

People always used to say to me, I don’t know how you took care of dying children. Many moments were awful. I cried in the bathroom/stockroom/lunch room an infinite number of times. Watching parent’s decide to withdraw care when it was deemed medically appropriate is the ultimate display of unconditional love. These parents knew their lives would forever be scarred by this day, but they chose to honor their baby’s life by ending their suffering even though it would lead to their own immeasurable pain. To bear witness, not only once but many times to such an incredible sacrifice is one of the greatest gifts I have ever received. Being in the presence of true selfless love like that is the closest thing to a miracle I have ever experienced. Every death I witnessed took something from me, but also gave me a strength of faith in return. To all the families that have touched my heart over the years thank you for loving your child enough to let them rest. I pray I never fully understand your pain, but if I ever have to I hope to be given your strength to honor my baby that way.

Pregnant with a Toddler

Photo credit: Sunkissed and Free Photography

Pregnant with a Toddler

I didn’t have an easy pregnancy with my son. It was overshadowed by previous struggles to become pregnant and lots of anxiety about how I would handle being a mother for the first time. However there’s a stark difference between how I managed that stress (ie pedicures and sleeping in LATE on days off work) to now. My sweet son is 13 months old and I am rounding out my first trimester with hopefully his healthy sibling. Things are quite a bit different when I don’t get to be as selfish, for lack of a better term, as I was the first go around.

There’s no glow.

I AM TIRED. Like a fall asleep on my yoga mat during abs at Stroller Strides tired. Before I baked my husband various treats and made complex meals on days off. Tonight I served freshly baked frozen pizza. I fully believe that when you use the oven it means it’s homemade. And it was spinach pizza so practically a salad.

My son still needs his mother.

Ahhh such is the pure self-centeredness of toddlerhood. He doesn’t care that I am maxed on Diclegis (my saving grace nausea script) or that his chicken nuggets make me wanna hurl. Fortunately, veteran moms assure me that he won’t remember that I laid on the couch on a particularly bad day of morning sickness, but rather that we cuddled while watching a fire engine (obsession of the moment) on youtube.

I embrace my flaws better.

I am coming to grips in a whole new way with the idea that I am not the mother I imagined I would be. My son loves pouches of premade food. He isn’t eating handmade fruit snacks from the organic garden we planted together. (Because babies are totally into that kind of thing). I don’t have a brand new Pinterest worthy sensory-motor craft each day for after naptime. My first and only foray with homemade play dough resulted in a near vet visit for our dog and a crying toddler. But, I can amazon prime anything with lightning speed. Don’t be jealous. We all have our gifts.

My fears are different.

I have mostly found my stride as the mother of one, but knowing all of it is about to change is overwhelming. The nuts and bolts of parenting a newborn don’t scare me anymore, but the fear of not being able to balance two tiny people sure does. People say it, but does love really multiply rather than divide? How will I have enough mental and physical energy to give both kids what they need? I guess I will just have to face these fears head on. Good thing life is dealt one card at a time.

I find it’s so easy to get bogged down by the daily teething, laundry, errands race of it all. I often forget to slow down and appreciate the beautiful life I get to live. Prayer, journaling and exercise are my centering activities however imperfectly I complete them. The occasional mug cake helps too when wine isn’t an option. For now I will have to float along on grace and let myself off the hook a little.  I have a helpful and loving husband (who is dealing with my random outbursts of tears like a pro) and a beautiful healthy son. At the end of each day I know I loved them both fiercely and did the best I could. I have decided that will be my enough.

Nurse to Mom: A Tough Transition

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Pediatric Nursing was my biggest passion for the better part of a decade. I spent six of those years tending to the sickest children in the hospital in the pediatric intensive care unit in both Oklahoma City and Richmond, VA. When I hung up my stethoscope for the time being to become a full time stay at home mom, I really believed that my time as a nurse caring for children would be my greatest asset in parenting. Little did I know it would become one of my greatest obstacles.

Becoming a mother changes everything about your life. Sure when you get married your partner’s needs are also on par with yours, but generally speaking he or she is another adult who is capable of self care. Insert a newborn. All needs must be met from an outside source. The same is often true for ICU patients. Regardless of age, often disease process takes away all of the patient’s ability for self care which is where the medical team takes over. So in my head I was convinced I was ready to take on the needs of my own child. How different could it be?

Night and day. Or both rather. There is no such thing as a shift in parenting. No hours or next round of fresh staff to give a formal report and status update to so that you can go home for some R & R. Another stark difference is scheduling. I was incredibly used to the rigid schedules that make an ICU environment thrive. Medications must be given within a certain window or your task turns red in the electronic medical record. Red means late. Red means you some how failed. At work I rarely had a red task. As a new mom, I felt like I lived in the red. He didn’t eat every three hours like the books said he would. He never slept more than two hours at a time. I could not for the life of me get one of the infinite internet-searched schedules to work for us.

He also was not hooked to a million machines measuring each bodily function. I am incredibly thankful to God every day to be the mother of a healthy child. Especially after witnessing so many devastating outcomes over the course of my time in the PICU. Those machines are addictive though. They give your anxiety an analytical lozenge. Is the baby breathing? Why yes! 47 times per minute. Right there in bright, bold text. But how would I know if my own son were to stop breathing at night? It happens. I have seen it. I have done CPR on those babies found down in the morning. I have seen the look of terror/anguish/panic on parents faces. Its so easy to fall asleep on the couch with a newborn and so tempting to just pull them into your bed for a little extra rest. But I couldn’t be “normal” about any of that. Something terrible was going to happen and it would be my fault for not being vigilant. For breaking a rule.

At work there were guidelines and protocols and the ever popular buzz words of evidence based practice. Most questions had an answer. A right or a wrong. You don’t administer Dilantin (a seizure medication) and Morphine together. You turn your patient every two hours, “scrub the hub”, wash your hands, wear an isolation gown, etc. Parenting is largely based on what works for the individual family unit. A you do you approach felt so alien to me. I took to the internet to find parenting protocols. And guess what? I was left even more confused than before. Every person with a laptop has an opinion on parenting. And not like a nice let’s all agree to disagree opinion, but a do it my way or you’ll spend your life savings paying for intensive psychotherapy for your child kind of stance. I felt so overwhelmed with every opposing theory, blog post, and book I read. Thankfully my ER attending husband is a genius and incredibly laid back. He said we will use common sense and do what works. There’s the ER vs the ICU for you.

Slowly I figured out how to wade through all of the “helpful advice” and found my stride as a mother. Well at least for the phases thus far. My child currently sleeps pretty well, eats most things, and is generally a happy kid. All of these things, I am not so naive as to believe, are in a delicate balance than will shift if he gets a tooth, ear infection, on just on a toddler whim. Thankfully I am learning what things are truly important to me to be a stickler about (safe sleep, vaccines, and car seat safety for us) and what things can slide a little (3 servings of vegetables a day….puuuuleaseeee).

Its so funny to me now as a parent to look back at my own childhood and really remember thinking adults had it all figured out. They really do put on a good show for kids. I will forever cherish my ICU nursing days and they may not be gone forever. I just know I cannot parent within that same framework, at least not without all of my hair falling out from the stress of living in the “red”.

 

 

Here Goes Nothing

It has always been a dream of mine to begin a blog, but it wasn’t until my journey into motherhood that I found my voice. My desire is to have a place to contribute my experiences, trials and errors (usually errors) and laughter to other moms. Motherhood is the hardest and most rewarding thing I have ever done. I am literally helping to shape the future of the world. The weight of that responsibility is not lost on me. Some days I hit my stride and feel awesome. Others I wonder who in their right mind left me alone with this tiny human, and why does he keep trying to find ways to harm himself #toddlerhood.

I am thrilled to begin contributing to Oklahoma City Moms Blog this summer and hope you will check out my thoughts both there and here!