First, let me add this disclaimer: I love my kids. I really do. They are the reason I get out of bed every morning, they are the reason my heart beats, they are the reason I breathe.
Okay, got it? I love ‘em. Don’t question it.
That said, there are days when they are running around, screaming, pushing, making messes, that I go to my “happy place” and daydream about the glorious times ahead I’m going to have in 2026, when my youngest hits 18. I’ll be 40 and ready for the …

I almost don’t want to write anything, but just you watch this movie and come up with your own conclusions. I’ll set it up a little for you.
The following video was part of a teen pregnancy prevention campaign in Milwaukee. With teen pregnancy rates rising, the good folks at BabyCanWait.com took strides to combat it in their area. Early estimates say the movie (along with other tactics, including a scratch-and-sniff diaper billboard) helped reduce teen pregnancy rates by 10%. I call BS, but I’ll let you watch and judge for yourself:

“Get pregnant and the …

Dear Ayanna,
In a little less than a month, you turn 3. So why am I writing you a birthday letter so early? Well, 1) because your mom is scatterbrained lately and wouldn’t remember her own name if she didn’t have to write it every time she wrote a check, 2) the house is quiet and I have a minute to write and 3) you do everything ahead of schedule so I figured I return the favor.
You just amaze me every day, little girl. Honestly, you do. Sometimes I catch myself talking to you like you’re …

Picture this scene: My daughter and I kneeling on the floor in front of her brother, whose dry facial skin has aggravated him to the point where he had rubbed his chin raw. After cleaning his chin, I ask my daughter to hand me the Vaseline that’s sitting next to her. Dialogue as follows:
Me: Sweetie, can you hand Mommy the Vaseline?
Daughter: No….
Me: What?
Daughter: Mom, it’s not Vaseline.
Me: Hand.me.the.Vaseline.
Daughter: It’s not Vaseline. It’s petroleum jelly. [Of course, from her 2.5 year old mouth it sounds like, "Pe-no-lum jelly"]
Me: Hand it to …

I guess I’ll never really know for sure what I’m doing with this whole motherhood thing. My latest conumdrum? Figuring out what the h&#! to feed these kids.
My daughter, who’s two, has survived this past year on basically four foods: bananas, yogurt, Cheerios and oranges. And orange juice. Lots and lots of orange juice. It used to drive me mad.
The backstory: I breastfed her for six months, then when I went to work, the breast pump I used wasn’t doing the job and I began to exclusively feed with formula and …

Whenever I’m at a store without the kids, and I hear a child having a meltdown two aisles over, I can only think one thing:
“Thank God that isn’t my kid!”
Tell me I’m not the only one.

To me, there is NOTHING worst than a meltdown in the middle of a public place. There’s no corner to go to, there’s no room to lock them in, there’s a million people around and is it just me or does the temp suddenly go up about 20 degrees once your kids starts throwing a fit?
Worst …

My daughter (a.k.a. The Star Of This Blog) asked me for some grapes. I quickly obliged, since for the past day and a half all she wanted to eat were jalapeno tortilla chips.
As she sits on the couch next to me watching the True Hollywood Story of LL Cool J (I’m a bad mom, what can I say?) I reach over and take a grape and eat it. She looks at me while I do this and even though I can tell she doesn’t mind, she’s giving me a look …

My daughter is terrified of Koosh balls. Like she has this irrational fear that it will grow legs and a face and swallow her whole.
We have one that we bring out occasionally to show her that there’s nothing to be scared of. “See, sweetie?” we say as we toss it back and forth. “It won’t hurt you.”
The other day, we handed the ball to her little brother. He’s chewing on it, giggling at her.
My husband asks her to hand him the ball. “Go get it from your brother and bring …