Confession: I am not a Super Mom.

Sometimes when I don’t know someone and I see them wearing makeup, I kind of assume that they are also good at everything else, like cooking and having a clean bathroom for example.  Their children probably worship them while arguing over who gets to fold the laundry and take out the trash. So, incase you’ve seen me wear makeup, I want to set the record straight.

I am not a Super-Mom, and these are my confessions:

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I love screens and I love screen time. Possibly more than my children love them. If Netflix or Amazon Prime were people I would want to marry them. I hide this love, just like I hide my love for those tacos from Taco Bell with the cheesy Dorito flavored shells on them, or how I binge watched Sister Wives that one time. There’s some things you just don’t share.

I usually engage in conversations about the impending doom caused by iPads with a solemn head shake, but my inside voice says, Girl, you’re good, Wild Kratts is educational.

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Dear Husband, When I forget to see you…

Dear Husband,

Sometimes everything feels chaotic and fast, like a whirlwind we can’t stop. Time is flying by and I forget to really see you.

When I stop and I notice, I see the etching of life, the processes that have made you older, stronger, and wiser. You are the same as when we married, but you’re different too. We’ve grown up together.

I am proud of who you are and who you’ve become.

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Family Vacations: How to Make Realistic Goals

Usually when we travel together everything runs like a well oiled machine.

If you oiled a 1950’s tractor with urine. We are a very slow moving machine that smells like pee, is what I’m trying to say.

It is a longstanding tradition in my family to create stressful family vacations. My grandpa used to pile us all in a motorhome so that he and my dad could argue over traffic laws for five days straight. I have fond memories of driving down the L.A. freeway in a giant monstrosity of a bus, while people sped by flipping us the bird.

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