• Krystal Moore

I've decided to start a blog.

I’ve decided to start a blog. I've seen your mommy blogs, and I think they’re great. I think you’re beautiful, I think your life is beautiful and I am glad that you have been able to find peace and tranquility while staying home to raise 3 beautiful children. I just… can’t relate.

As you might look at my life and think ‘wow… she is unorganized’, I look at yours and think ‘I would like to see live footage of this. Prrrooooove iiitttt.’

Don’t get me wrong, I am not here to criticize anyone. We are all different, all have different tastes, beliefs and parenting styles. Different lives. I just have not found ANY that seem the least bit similar to mine. Except maybe the moms who cry during their down time because they smell like boob sweat but know as soon as they hop in the shower their little one is going to wake up from their ‘nap’. And the recipes… oh the recipes. Listen. I don’t like fresh picked or dried herbs. I don’t care for many seeds. I think quinoa tastes like farm pasture, chia seeds remind me of little ticks, hemp seed tastes like a wet weaved basket. I do like sunflower seeds, though… if they’re BBQ flavored. Flax seed… whatever. My husband isn’t going to touch anything that tastes like a holistic medicine shop smells. We are meat and potato kinda folks. I mean, there are times when I think I could be a homemaker.. wake up early, have a cup of coffee and read the newspaper. Bake pies and have dinner ready for my man when he gets home. Talk about our day in the evening when our little guy goes to bed. Do fun little crafty projects throughout the week and have nice little picnics at the park. But then real life goes "that’s hilarious…" and this is what my day actually looks like:


7:30 AM: Wake up - husband already left for work.

7:45 AM: Change an ultra full diaper.

8:00 AM: Talk my son into waiting until after breakfast to go play outside because I REALLY need coffee. While he is in his high chair eating I do the dishes from the night before.

8:15 AM: Clean up the surrounding area of the high chair because majority of the food was apparently intended to be shared with the dogs, and while they don’t like half the shit I give him they beg for it anyway and he gives in because he loves them and is a sharing kinda guy.

8:30 AM: Spend a little time outside, which is super enjoyable because the sun shines all day, every day where I am.

8:45 AM: The screaming begins. The screaming begins because my kid doesn’t like toys and I won’t let him play with things like daddy’s laptop and law school books, the keys to my car (if that big red button wasn’t there… maybe), wax burners, chemicals, or the dogs’ food and water bowls. Either that or whatever toy he will play with becomes a weapon.

9:00 AM: A slight (emphasis on slight) hankering of motivation to workout today. Is today the day? Maybe we could go to the gym down the street?

9:10 AM: (Dog #1) "Mother, I have prepared a solo for you. I call it ‘I think I'm going to shit my pants and I'm going to continue to remind you until you do something about it. If you don’t do something about it, I'm going to go ahead and take care of my business in the baby’s room. Also, when are you going to return that thing? Does the place where you got the baby accept returns after 490 days? I can call and check for you. But seriously I have to piss so bad. Or was it shit? Doesn't matter' ."

9:20 AM: Absolutely nothing was accomplished outside while taking the dog out. GD liar.

9:21 AM: Okay. Motivated still? I think so. Let’s get the kid dressed and see how things go!

9:35 AM: Ready to go!

9:36 AM: I see my son doing the arched back, glossy eyed, grunt stance. Eyelashes are wet, face is red, diaper is sagging… “Hey buddy… are you pooping?” Giggle… (runs away)

9:45 AM: Unplanned bath-time.

10:00 AM: Okay. Hows about now? Still motivated? Hell no. Now I need carbs. All the carbs. And another cup of coffee.

10:15 AM: Son decides he likes toys for a short period of time, usually in his room. I am able to finish cleaning the house and do some laundry.

11:00 AM: Lunch time!

11:30 AM: Take an enjoyable stroll around the neighborhood. Hopefully a nap forms.

12:00 PM: As predicted… no nap. All the soothing in the world couldn’t get this kid to nap. I hear of (2) 2 hour naps or (1) 3 hour nap at this age… for real? Are these kids drugged? Bored?

12:30 PM: Clearly this kid is tired. I know we are trying to get him off the bottle, but I can’t take one more minute of this toddler attitude. Snuggles aren’t working. Reading isn’t working. Wait! We need more milk and some other things, I can run to the store real quick and then maybe on the way back he will fall asleep.

12:45 PM: Or maybe he will fall asleep right when I get to the grocery store. Well… I’m here and committed - gonna have to carry the 30 lb darling through the store.

1:45 PM: Get home from the store and carefully lay son down for the remainder of his nap.

2:00 PM: (Dog #2) "Nap you say? BABY SLEEPING! BABY SLEEPING!"

2:01 PM: Dog #2 is (lucky to be) alive. Baby is now awake.

2:15 PM: Short nap, but he is in a better mood. Change the diaper, and give him a snack.

2:30 PM: Pick up the rest of the house before daddy gets home.

3:15 PM: Daddy gets home.

3:30 PM: Daddy goes to gym. We have a snack.

4:30 PM: Daddy gets home from gym. I can't. Anymore.

4:45 PM: Daddy plays with baby then showers. I can't. Anymore. Even more.

5:00 PM: Daddy gets out of shower and asks what’s for dinner.

5:01 PM: SON OF A BITCH. Dinner. I throw out some confident suggestions.

5:15 PM: Start dinner. Daddy starts school work.

6:30 PM: Dinner is ready! Mommy's very tired and appears to not have parenting under control as this is the time of night when my son starts screaming and whining the most because he is actually very tired from only having a short nap.

7:00 PM: Bath-time.

7:30 PM: Story-time. Sleepy baby commences.

8:00 PM: Sleepy baby cuddling and snuggling, almost sound asleep.

8:30 PM: PARTY BABY COMMENCES!

8:45 PM: Let baby run around while I clean up the dinner mess because it’s not worth the fight and I can’t let him ‘cry it out’ in a building with other people trying to sleep. At this point, doing the dishes sounds like a major drag so I shove them all in the sink and just like… maybe later.

9:30 PM: Suggestive conversations with my man regarding plans after he is done with school work and the baby falls asleep. Wink wink.

10:30 PM: Baby is asleep and man is done with school work. The previous suggestive conversation has now turned into a sleep deprivation conversation.

10:45 PM: Spend some time on the porch with the fella, hearing phantom baby cries.

11:30 PM: Bed.

1:30 AM: After hours movie ‘Baby Night Terror’ starring: kick, cry, scream, grunt, and arm flail.

4:30 AM: HUNGRY BABY. Another cave to the bottle. Damn bottle.

5:00 AM: Can’t go back to sleep. Start planning out my awesome day tomorrow where I go work out and like eat super healthy and stuff.

7:30 AM: Encore of the day before! Encore! Encore!


There are definitely things that occur during my day that aren’t included in this itinerary, but this is the most consistent type of day that occurs for me throughout the week. I enjoy staying home. Very much in fact. I have been present for all of my son’s firsts, and that is beyond special to me. We have a great relationship. We even have inside jokes! And he isn’t bad by any means - a totally normal, testy toddler. I do, however, feel guilty for ever having thought that stay at home moms had it easy. That it was all yoga pants being used as they were intended and reading books in their entirety. Lunch dates with friends and sleeping in. Long soothing baths and early bedtimes. The reality is yoga pants because nothing else fits. Reading forums like ‘16 month old won’t stop screaming’, then questioning everything I have learned as a parent because of the rude ass moms who criticism others parenting techniques. No lunch dates - sometimes no lunch - and no friends because my phone get confiscated regularly by a 16 month old klepto. No sleeping, no baths (barely a shower for that matter), and yeah... no early bedtime. Haha. Sick jokes. I’m tired. I’m cranky. I look and smell like a dump truck, and I cuss a lot. But all that being said.. I am really happy and have no reason to compare my life with anyone else’s. But I probably will anyway.

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