I started staying home with my kids when my oldest step-child was in 5^th grade, my middle child was 1.5 years old and my youngest wasn’t even born yet. I had an idealized image of what that would look like… I thought it’d be a LOT of arts and crafts, puzzles, laughing, giggling, etc. And for awhile… it was! Then the baby was born.

I had a 21 month old and a baby at home and I was miserable. My daughter was THAT toddler… she hit me, she screamed at me, she threw fits at Target (I’ve written several blog posts about our Target misadventures)… and the baby cried. A LOT. Way more than I was prepared for…. The toddler cried about lack of attention and the baby just didn’t stop crying. The 3 month colic phase felt like years…. I felt like I was drowning. I never got out of my pajamas and I never did anything for myself. I was weighed down by so much mom guilt that I stopped enjoying the little things… I was anxious about my kids’ development, eating habits, temper tantrums, sleeping, EVERYTHING.

I’ll never forget the day that my husband looked at me and said, “Would you want to go back to work?” It was tough to consider: I felt like a failure. I am a MOM… I should be able to do this. My mother stayed home with me, I see other moms staying home with their toddlers & babies and they look so happy (and fit! Holy crap are they fit!). When my husband shined the light on my depression, I realized I wasn’t the best mom I could be by staying home. Staying home with toddlers and babies is the actual hardest job in the entire world. If I were writing a resume, skills include: patience, cooking, cleaning, cleaning again, negotiating, staying calm, not crying despite wanting to OVER AND OVER, vulnerability, and about 100 other attributes. I wasn’t vulnerable enough to admit that I needed help… and I quit. And I’m so happy I did.

Fast forward 2 years: I was so happy at work, I was a better mom than I had ever been, and we were a HAPPY FAMILY. We had arguments, a messy house, and my oldest became a teenager which was a huge wakeup call… but we were HAPPY. Then my mom became sick… like really sick. I realized that the mom guilt I felt when I was with my mom instead of my kids, or when I had to go to work because I had bailed on my team 5 times that month already to sit with my mom was overwhelming. I was torn between spending time with my mother who was dying, my family, and the incredible team I worked with. I chose to resign from my full time position so I could balance spending time with my mom and my family… and it was the best decision I’ve ever made because I was at her bedside when she passed… and I was with my family from then on to tell them about their grandmother and hold them when they cried.

So… what’s life like now with a teenager, a 5 year old and a 3 year old? Ladies… it’s a complete 180 from the picture I painted of life with a toddler and baby. Life is absolutely not perfect… I cry once a week because one of my kids will have a meltdown at Target or they don’t stop fighting EVER. I want to scream sometimes because I feel like no one in my house listens to me unless I turn into the Hulk… and then they tell me to calm down (which, as you know, is SUPER helpful to tell someone). But all that is so small compared to the constant joy. My kids can dress themselves (with a little help), they can make their beds (even if they argue with me about whether or not they need to), they can go to places like the Children’s Museum and, if I make sure to bribe them with a kids’ meal on the way home, they actually listen to me! They play with each other for HOURS… with minimal fighting! They can sit and watch a movie when I need a break… I now get breaks by the way! I can shower and have 10 minutes alone, knowing that they are entertained by whatever I put on TV.

Most of all… we’re happy. The whole frickin’ family. So hang in there, mama of babies and toddlers… it gets easier. And try not to punch the person that says, “Enjoy this time, it goes so fast!” when your toddler starts throwing eggs on the floor at the grocery store. Like, you’re hilarious, Karen, but stop talking to me right now before I punch you.

Here’s an actual photo of me getting space from the kids on a Sunday morning… #momlife

I’m sure this topic has been written about extensively but I can’t help myself. I was at the park the other day with the tyrant also known as Fiona (she’s 20 months old now!). She was owning the park, flying down the slide, trying to climb up the rock wall meant for 10 year olds (that I can’t physically follow her on because I am the size of a house and have my own orbit). At 8.5 months pregnant, I surprise myself when I make it all the way to the park without having to stop for a snack break (let alone attempt to climb a rock wall).

So it’s only 9 AM because I won’t go after that because I’ll start melting once it hits 80 degrees (pregnancy is very glamorous) so we’re alone at the park (except for the geese that are NOT afraid of us and put the “squeeze” on us by coming right up to the edge of the park and daring us to go out into their field). All of a sudden, these 2 guys walk up and I assumed they were just casually strolling until they park it on a bench nearby. The weather is unusually crappy for summer in Minnesota: super humid, 85 (feels like 100) and kind of misting/raining. I brought a towel to be a dutiful slide wiper-offer for Fiona so she could get in her daily kicks.

One of the guys waves at me and points up to the sky and shouts, “RAIN!” It was barely sprinkling… as in, I wasn’t worried about my IPhone sitting out. I’m on level 199 on Candy Crush; trust me, if anyone’s worried about their phone getting destroyed (and all that hard work), it’s me.

This guy was probably late forties and had a huge smile on his face. Fiona said, “HI!” with a huge smile and walked up to them and started dancing. My little ham. I walk over in case she attacks them with hugs (or, let’s be real about my biggest concern, they pick her up and run away). The guy LITERALLY STANDS UP AND TOUCHED MY BELLY FOR A FULL 7 SECONDS (I counted) and said, “What are you, 7 months pregnant?” I was horrified. Not only was he way off (although let’s be honest, I was a little flattered that I look like I’m ready to pop and he thought I had 2-3 months left but that wasn’t the important part!!) but he was touching my belly! It wasn’t in a weird, sexual way that made me uncomfortable it was the fact that, oh, I don’t know, A GROWN MAN WAS TOUCHING MY BELLY. I literally moved away while he was touching it, grabbed Fiona’s hand and said, “Well, have a good day. Hope it doesn’t rain all over you” and I put Fiona in her stroller and we left. I’ve never been more uncomfortable (okay that might not be true… I’m very awkward by nature).

Why is it that people think it’s okay to touch a pregnant woman’s belly? Have you ever walked up to someone that isn’t pregnant and stroked their stomach? Oh, that’d be weird? SO IS TOUCHING THE BELLY OF A PREGNANT PERSON! Okay, if you know me you can touch my belly— it’s hard not to when it’s likely in your personal space. If you don’t know me and just want to remember the days when you/your partner was pregnant… hands off! I wish this was a singular event but this is probably the 3rd stranger to touch my stomach this pregnancy (and the 7th from both my pregnancies). I don’t understand the motivation or frankly, the balls someone must have to reach out and touch someone’s body in such a weird way.

If you’re someone who touches pregnant bellies and you can’t help yourself, please enlighten me. Is there something I’m missing? Is it now socially acceptable to grab the belly of a stranger?

Here’s a picture of Fiona on the way to the park that day. I am no longer posting photos of myself because when I see a camera aimed at me I literally scream and ninja jump away (nothing against pregnant women… I’m all for women being beautiful at every size but I just don’t really want to see myself through a lens right now…).