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I'm Jealous of my Husband

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I feel like I need to preface this with one idea. I love being a mom. And I am so grateful that I have been able to be a stay at home and raise our daughter. My husband and I talked about how we wanted to parent our children, and what roles we would take on to ensure that our family functioned the way we envisioned. We came up with this plan together, and we are each holding up our ends of the bargain. Some days it feels like we are each holding so much that we want to crumble, but I also know that such is life, and that even if we didn’t have a tiny human - our beautiful combination of his smirk and my eyes - that we would feel the burdens that life always throws at people . Bills that never stop, household items that break and need fixing, taxes - and the feeling that I’ll never really be “adult enough” to do those taxes on my own, and the feeling of being pulled in a million different directions at once; all of them demanding my seemingly immediate and urgent undivided attentio...
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Just Pajamas?

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My first initial reaction to Disney pulling a pair of pajamas from their online stores was "so what it's just a pair of pajamas Why did they care?" Every summer I spent time at my grandparents houses. My Grandma had shelves full of breakable glass ornaments and a lot of memorabilia from their families, and from their own adventures in which they participated in rodeo events and Gymkhana. My Grandparents were farmers and my Grandpa was a full-blown blue jeans and 10 Gallon hat wearing cowboy. My six year old self absolutely loved going to visit because I was immersed in that culture for the week or two and boy did I embrace it. I would wake up hours earlier than I normally would, race downstairs, put on my rubber boots and ran out to go do my "chores". These weren't chores that my Grandparents actually assigned to me they were self-assigned because I wanted to help on the farm. It actually consisted of me getting it bucket and going out and collectin...
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An Open Letter to the Sancti-mommy at the PTA

I slide into the drivers side of my truck and slam the door behind me, sending an echo into the parking lot of the school. Parent council meeting, what a joke . I punch the steering wheel and immediately regret it, the stinging hot burn from my hand also is the final tipping point and the well of tears I had been fighting since leaving the school finally came washing over me. The release of emotions - anger, frustration, embarrassment, all come crashing in like a tidal wave, filling the cab of my truck and replacing all the oxygen. Gasping for breath between sobs I replay in my mind the judging looks from the other parents. The mom's who weren't late to the meeting on the first place, who aren't the last to sign up for the volunteer positions and the ones who bake the cookies instead of buying them at the last minute. I feel their eyes on me, sometimes with what I assume is pity, sometimes annoyance, almost always judgement. Yes, I am a single mom. I'm doing the best...
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