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The thoughts every mama has in the shower

Toilet paper, milk, baby puffs, olive oil. Toilet paper, milk, baby puffs, olive oil.

The thoughts every mama has in the shower

Ohhhh sweet water. Sweet, sweet wet water. It’s been SO long since we’ve met. Wait—how long has it been? Like–days? Weeks? Months? I literally cannot remember.


Thank God I’m finally alone in here. No babies grabbing my boob for a drink, or toddlers pulling my leg for a snack, or little boys whispering in my ear that he “peed in his pants—again.” This shower is heaven.

I should work out more. In theory, I could work out more? But really, I’m maxed out between all the kids, work, and the house. I don’t even have time to shower. When exactly would I work out?

Wait, but maybe working out would give me more energy and make me more efficient at work and home, and somehow magically *saving* me time? Is that actually a possibility of the space-time continuum? What would Albert Einstein say?

Wow, this is a lot of grime. I guess the dry shampoo really adds up. And the not-washing-my-face before bed. For a week. And the times I skip teeth brushing. EEK. I feel amazingly clean! I’m practically sparkling! I’m a new woman!

HOLY LEG HAIR. These puppies haven’t been shaved since—actually, no clue. I see my husband’s razor is right where I left it. . . let’s do this.

I should meditate more.

Why is my baby SOOOOO cute?

We should totally declutter the entire house and get rid of everything we own. I mean, simplify your life—amirite?!

Toilet paper, milk, baby puffs, olive oil. Toilet paper, milk, baby puffs, olive oil. Toilet paper, milk, baby puffs, olive oil.

What was that sound? She *is* still asleep right?

I need to relax—seriously, just to do NOTHING for an entire week. Me, vacation, zero people to take care of. No work emails. I’m going to make it happen.

I miss my baby.

Toilet paper, milk, baby puffs, olive oil. Toilet paper, milk, baby puffs, olive oil. Toilet paper, milk, baby puffs, olive oil.

I should really push to get ahead at work—reach for that goal—hustle 24/7. I am woman. Watch me hustle. I totally got this.

Seriously, who has TIME to meditate? People without kids, that’s who.

Literally can NOT wait for This Is Us to come back.

No, actually, I’m going to talk to my husband about cancelling cable. Save so much money!

Wait, seriously—what was that sound?

I should stop being on my iPhone so much. I need to be present with my kids. No distractions. No notifications pulling me away from my babies. No more Slack messages sending me work emergencies. Be here now, mama.

How bad would it be if I brought my iPhone in to check some text messages? Like, is water damage covered under the protection plan?

Dear God—thank you for all my babies. They are so unique and amazing and adorable and also sometimes really, really demanding and also I wish they would just stay in their beds at night and also for once please let them put their godforsaken shoes on when I ask the first five times. But also thank you they are miracles. ?

I should really shut this water off, I need to conserve resources for the next generation.

BUT THE WATER PRESSURE IS GIVING ME LIIIIFE. I need this. I deserve this.

I feel like I had some things on my grocery shopping list? Maybe? Or not. Can’t remember.

I need to shower every day. I feel like a new woman.

Now to investigate that sound. . .

A very important letter for new mamas

Listen, mom-guilt is a dirty liar. Yes, it's your job to fill your little human's needs, but you matter too. Don't forget to take care of yourself. Hang out with friends, take a drive blaring 90's hip hop or shower without interruptions—trust me, you'll be a better person (and mom) because of it.

Dear new mom,

You will shave again someday. Today is not that day.

Set expectations low, my friend, and set your partner's lower—at least where body hair and overall hygiene are concerned.

That conversation could go something like this: “From now on let's not consider shaving a “standard," but more like a gift that happens on birthdays and the first day of summer."

Voila, you are a gift-giving genius. You know what else is a gift? Shaving the inch and a half of skin that is between your skinny jeans and your boots. You're welcome world.

You will not be perfect at parenting.

Boom.

I have yet to meet a perfect mother, but when I do, she's going to be a tiger who is insanely good at making up songs. (Daniel Tiger's mom, we salute you.)

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Life

I never wanted to be a mom. It wasn't something I ever thought would happen until I fell madly in love with my husband—who knew very well he wanted children. While he was a natural at entertaining our nephews or our friends' kids, I would awkwardly try to interact with them, not really knowing what to say or do.

Our first pregnancy was a surprise, a much-wanted one but also a unicorn, "first try" kind of pregnancy. As my belly grew bigger, so did my insecurities. How do you even mom when you never saw motherhood in your future? I focused all my uncertainties on coming up with a plan for the delivery of my baby—which proved to be a terrible idea when my dreamed-of unmedicated vaginal birth turned into an emergency C-section. I couldn't even start motherhood the way I wanted, I thought. And that feeling happened again when I couldn't breastfeed and instead had to pump and bottle-feed. And once more, when all the stress from things not going my way turned into debilitating postpartum anxiety that left me not really enjoying my brand new baby.

As my baby grew, slowly so did my confidence that I could do this. When he would tumble to the ground while learning how to walk and only my hugs could calm him, I felt invincible. But on the nights he wouldn't sleep—whether because he was going through a regression, a leap, a teeth eruption or just a full moon—I would break down in tears to my husband telling him that he was a better parent than me.

Then I found out I was pregnant again, and that this time it was twins. I panicked. I really cannot do two babies at the same time. I kept repeating that to myself (and to my poor husband) at every single appointment we had because I was just terrified. He, of course, thought I could absolutely do it, and he got me through a very hard pregnancy.

When the twins were born at full term and just as big as singleton babies, I still felt inadequate, despite the monumental effort I had made to grow these healthy babies and go through a repeat C-section to make sure they were both okay. I still felt my skin crawl when they cried and thought, What if I can't calm them down? I still turned to my husband for diaper changes because I wasn't a good enough mom for twins.

My husband reminded me (and still does) that I am exactly what my babies need. That I am enough. A phrase that has now become my mantra, both in motherhood and beyond, because as my husband likes to say, I'm the queen of selling myself short on everything.

So when my babies start crying, I tell myself that I am enough to calm them down.

When my toddler has a tantrum, I remind myself that I am enough to get through to him.

When I go out with the three kids by myself and start sweating about everything that could go wrong (poop explosions times three), I remind myself that I am enough to handle it all, even with a little humor.


And then one day I found this bracelet. Initially, I thought how cheesy it'd be to wear a reminder like this on my wrist, but I bought it anyway because something about it was calling my name. I'm so glad I did because since day one I haven't stopped wearing it.

Every time I look down, there it is, shining back at me. I am enough.

I Am Enough bracelet 

SONTAKEY  I Am Enough Bracelet

May this Oath Bracelet be your reminder that you are perfect just the way you are. That you are enough for your children, you are enough for your friends & family, you are enough for everything that you do. You are enough, mama <3

$35

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Life

It's science: Why your baby stops crying when you stand up

A fascinating study explains why.

When your baby is crying, it feels nearly instinctual to stand up to rock, sway and soothe them. That's because standing up to calm babies is instinctual—driven by centuries of positive feedback from calmed babies, researchers have found.

"Infants under 6 months of age carried by a walking mother immediately stopped voluntary movement and crying and exhibited a rapid heart rate decrease, compared with holding by a sitting mother," say authors of a 2013 study published in Current Biology.

Even more striking: This coordinated set of actions—the mother standing and the baby calming—is observed in other mammal species, too. Using pharmacologic and genetic interventions with mice, the authors say, "We identified strikingly similar responses in mouse pups as defined by immobility and diminished ultrasonic vocalizations and heart rate."

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News