I hate to disappoint, but I wanted to mention before I start posting away that this blog is not likely going to be the place you come for articulate recipes photographed beautifully in an impeccable kitchen.
This will also not likelybe a blog where you find Pinterest-worthy newborn photos or where you will hear all out post-baby fitness routines or find too many recipes for smoothies that will magically make you lose weight and include 8 green ingredients that magically also won’t make you gag to eat them.

Because, like many of you, I don’t always have enough time.
(The sound of expert bloggers bristling with retorts to this is almost audible…)
“Make time!” they must want to yell. “You can make time! You must MAKE time!”

Oh, MAAAAAAKE time…

No.

🙂

There is no such thing as “making time” anymore.

That’s something I USED to be able to do. Back in the days when I also wore full makeup every day and coordinated some pretty great outfits. I was the queen of overcommitment and schedule color-coding, a socialite with SO much going on, we didn’t even TRY to have kids—we just “let them happen.” That’s when I used to be able to make time.

Then I made a baby.

And that’s how the magic of making time comes to a slow (or in my case—very quick) death.

I cannot “make time” even for most mediocre things any more than I can make an ornate table from a felled tree I found in the woods, or make a clay model of Notre Dame Cathedral or even make a perfect pie.

NOPE! Time can no longer be “made.”
Only stumbled across, bumped into, or luxuriously awakened to.

It’s a treasure you find without a map and without really looking for. It’s a precious prize you win while you’re in the middle of just barely surviving.

If you are like me, and are a mom out there struggling to make time for things in a world of over-ambition and oversharing—Pinterest and all other forms of social media that can make a person feel utterly disadvantaged talent-wise and desperately without any skills like turning milk cartons into dollhouses and making hats from repurposed grocery sacks.

I admire all that, but am the first to admit I just can’t do all of that.
I’m not discounting moms that do—those moms amaze and astound me, truly.

But for me, pride and satisfaction comes from the doing of the very ordinary despite the very extraordinary circumstances of childrearing.

Some days, I want to shout to the world that I bathed and cleaned the kitchen. And when that happens, most times, I do. Other days, I managed a coat or two of nail polish.

On worse weeks, I feel like I should get trophies for making it to the grocery store and back without a meltdown or taking the baby to church and not needing the bottle I pumped, or for finally organizing one closet, sleeping for 4+ hours or going somewhere with a clutch instead of a diaper bag.

THOSE are the accomplishments of a mom, to me.

Now that I’m finally a mom myself, when I see other moms, I’m filled with awe.
“Oh your kids are jumping off the chairs during church? NO, no… I don’t judge you… I high-five you because your eyes aren’t crossed, you’re still remotely sane, and you have to take these kids home with you.”

“Oh, your child is screaming to high heavens while on a Target run? NO, you’re not interrupting my shopping trip. In fact, how about I buy you a treat for the little one, and split a bottle of wine with you before you resume your day.”

I no longer judge.

Moms are superheroes to me.

Your kid is eating formula? Or high fructose corn syrup?
Well, they’re eating. And they’re not screaming. So GO YOU. Day at a time…

So anyways, THIS blog, if you choose to follow it, is one of insight and inspiration….
it will be filled also with breakdowns and coping, heavy sighs and face-palms. It will have ups and downs and ins and outs and I just want you to be on this journey with me.

And maybe along the way as this blog progresses, you’ll get some gem…like the INCREDIBLE fried Brussel sprouts recipe I have, which you can finally enjoy when you’re no longer breastfeeding. (I know…”when will that be?!”)

If you’re a mom, I love you.

You may think, “but you don’t even know me!”

Yes, I do.
Because I’m a mom too.

Stay tuned, and let’s take this journey together.

Besides, this is an easy read while feeding, pumping, pooping or procrastinating…(You blush, but am I right??)

Power to you.
Here’s to another day of mommyhood, aka superheroine-ness.