This Mom Staged a Beautiful Breastfeeding Photoshoot With Her Daughter and Instagram Wasn’t Having It

Clarissa Marie, a photographer and mom of 3 girls in Windsor Ontario, set out to commemorate her breastfeeding journey with a beautiful milk bath photo session showcasing the bond between mother and daughter, but when she shared them online, Instagram had other plans.

Within days of posting the artistic images, which were the product of a collaboration between Clarissa and her photographer friend Sarah Barichello, her pictures were removed as a violation to Instagram’s policies, and Clarissa was floored.

“When I woke up to the message from Instagram that my images were deemed a violation to community standards, my inner rage rose from zero to one hundred,” she said.

Clarissa was already feeling hurt after receiving an angry message about the photoshoot in her inbox from someone who wasn’t following her but had been shown the images by one of their mutual followers.

“The message was hurtful, angry and completely inappropriate, ” she said, adding that someone was trying to stir up drama in her life based on their own agenda. “I chose not to acknowledge this at all or engage this person about their words.”

Clarissa breastfed all three of her daughters, although this final journey saw her nursing beyond 15 months, which she hadn’t expected.

“If I’m being honest, extended nursing always seemed incredulous to me. Until I was doing it, and I finally understood.”

Not only did Clarissa exclusively breastfeed her third and final daughter for the first year of her life, but she also pumped and froze breast milk and began to donate to other babies in need. At one point she donated more than 60 litres to 7 different babies.

But her breastfeeding journey wasn’t always a smooth sailing one, and Clarissa faced some devastating challenges along the way. Her marriage to her husband of 11 years ended before her youngest daughter turned one, and she came down with an aggressive case of mastitis and thrush that led to numerous hospital visits and ultimately a trip to the ER to be treated for a more serious issue, multiple pulmonary embolisms.

When the cardiologist delivered the news that Clarissa would have to begin blood thinners and stop breastfeeding, Clarissa was hit with a wave of emotions and she burst into tears.

“I wasn’t ready. My baby wasn’t ready to be done with this journey. So much had already changed and been taken from me that I couldn’t accept this,” she recalls.

She brought her case to Jack Newman, a professional breastfeeding guru, and with his guidance she pushed through the pain and continued to pump. After 2 weeks, she was given the nod to breastfeed again, and she recounts that she’d never seen a happier smile on her baby’s face.

Her daughter is now 3 years old and she has been weaned down to once daily just before bed, although Clarissa says that her daughter would still be content with full time breastfeeding.

Clarissa and Sarah of SB Photography staged the beautiful nursing milk bath session using a combination of their skills and creativity; Clarissa says that her vision was perfectly executed in the images.

“I worked SO HARD and endured SO MUCH to continue my breastfeeding journey that I knew I had to have this,” she says about the photoshoot.

The response to the images on both of the photographer’s Facebook pages was a positive one; people reached out to say how beautiful and touching the photos were, and even those who were initially uncomfortable with extended breastfeeding admitted that the photos held more beauty than they expected.

When Instagram removed her images, Clarissa says she was dumbfounded and enraged by the double standards of what is considered nudity or deemed inappropriate by the social media network. She points out that her newsfeed is filled with sexual imagery, vulgar and inappropriate posts and even pornography that flies under the radar.

She notes a trend on social media where sexual images and provocative nudes receive the praise and accolades of society, while the images of the innocent act of breastfeeding a child has become controversial.

“It’s complete and utter bullshit,” she states.  Do you know that I prepared myself for a fight, negativity, or some sort of comment EVERY SINGLE TIME I nursed in public? Why is it that a nursing mother must be on guard, be ready for negativity and narrow minded comments? I’m literally feeding my baby!”

Clarissa says that she wants to shout a giant F*CK YOU to Instagram and to anyone else who chooses to sexualize the photos, or chooses to degrade her for something so beautiful and innocent as nursing a child.  She feels that society is over sexualized and that people who are offended by breastfeeding are not educated on the bond and the benefits of breastfeeding.

She has been called selfish for continuing to breastfeed her daughter beyond 15 months, and has been accused of doing it for her own benefit, which she concludes has no merit given that breastfeeding isn’t easy, and that it’s a selfless act.

But she also sees the negativity as a driving force to empower her three daughters and teach them the value of their bodies in the face of people’s ignorance.

“I want them to know if they have children, and should they choose to breastfeed, that they are met with unconditional support and love,” she says, “that they are valued for the incredible amazing things they can do.”

And when it comes to her personal  reasoning for the photoshoot and the overall message she wants her daughters to gain from her breastfeeding journey, Clarissa says that she wants them to be proud of what she was able to give to them, and to know that the love and sacrifices she made were out of love.

“I want them to remember the comfort of being in their mother’s arms, safe and loved. I want them to feel my love for them and the bond we created,” she says. “I wanted to do this nursing session as a way to begin the final chapter of weaning. To remember this incredible time, a time of my life that my body did an amazing thing; it sustained life. Soon our journey will be over.”


Images are courtesy of Clarissa Marie, photographed by Sarah Barichello of SB Photography.

Clarissa’s professional pages: 
Instagram: @clarissamariephotography2507
Facebook.com/clarissamariephotography

Sarah’s professional pages:
Instagram: @sbphotography519
Facebook.com/sbphotography

I’m Completely Comfortable Being a Lone Vagine in a House of Peen, Here’s Why

“Wow, 3 boys! Are you trying for a girl now?”

“I bet you wish you had a daughter to do girly things with.”

“Aren’t you going crazy in a house full of boys?”

These are just a few of the comments that I am often faced with when people learn that I’m a mom of 3 boys.  And in case you are wondering, the answers to those questions respectively are: no, not really, and hell to the yes I am going crazy in a house full of boys, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Not just in the cliché sense of the phrase, I mean I truly believe that the universe gave me what I needed, and knew that I’d be a better fit as a boy mom.

That’s not to say that I wouldn’t have loved and appreciated a daughter just the same; I’m not a monster who would reject my baby based on her genitalia. Aside from the fact that genitalia doesn’t always contribute to what society deems as boy or girl qualities, but
for the sake of this article being a light-hearted satire piece, we WILL be discussing certain gender related roles & characteristics as they relate to my life.

The truth is, I’m fine with this fart frat house of poop and dirt, I really am. I mean I could do without all the broken shit, the daredevil death defying stunts and I’d prefer if people in this house didn’t use my decorative towels to wash their balls, but overall, dudes are my people.  Here’s why:

1.  Although I may appear to be a girly-girl and know my way around a Sephora, I’ve been told that my personality is dude-like, and I’m not sure exactly what that means but I guess I’m just waiting for my honorary penis to show up in the mail any day now? Just kidding, I’m actually so tired of looking at penises.

2. Growing up, I always had a lot of dude BFF’s in addition to gal pals, because my dude friends were ridiculous and not afraid to swear, fart and make fun of themselves. I was an active participant in their antics where other young girls at the time were often annoyed or disgusted. (Side note: By adulthood I found more foul-mouthed, funny, like-minded ladies who I love and adore.)

With my dude friends, the laughs were non-stop, the judgement was nil, the drama was non existent and I’m pretty sure they just accepted me as one of their own. Things only got weird when they realized I couldn’t pee standing up and that I wore a bra.

3. I’m totally fine with being the only Queen in this house, unless one of my sons ends up becoming a Drag Performer, in which case I’ll then have someone to turn to for hair,  makeup and fashion advice, so it’s a win-win really.

4. I am no stranger to fart jokes, poop jokes and potty humor.  In fact, I’m a contributor and encourager of said jokes as long as my kids don’t bring them to school and tell their teacher that they learned them from their mama.

(I totally want the credit but I’m not interested in the inevitable phone call home because “Yes Mrs. Stewart, I know it’s inappropriate that my son farted into his lunch box and said ‘boy, this lunch stinks!’ but seriously, how funny is my kid, amirite?” isn’t the response they’re going to be looking for.)

5.  Once upon a time I was a teenage girl and if I had to relive that with a daughter, I’m pretty sure neither of us would survive because HOLY F*CKING HORMONES AND HOE’ING. (Yes I know not all girls are hormonal hoes, but I was, so I wouldn’t expect anything less from my actual spawn.)

6.  Boys usually love their moms no matter how batshit crazy they are, and I’m sure once I’m in menopause I’ll be completely nutty and hormonal, so I’ll need a few kids that will be mostly oblivious to my antics and that won’t commit me when I get a nose ring and pink hair at 65 and decide to move to a tropical island.

(I’ve literally always wanted pink hair and a nose ring and to live on an island, so I’m assuming I’ll choose my 60’s to finally rock that YOLO kind of confidence.)

7. If I had a daughter I’d really have to work on being a better person and an appropriate female role model and ain’t nobody got time for that. My boys just accept me for the piece of shit that I am, and they also won’t tell me when my hair sucks or my outfit is weird. (For now anyways.)  Okay those were all jokes, don’t throw eggs at me. *ducks*

8. I’m assuming that when my sons are a bit older, they’ll appreciate that their mother often has the sense of humor of a pre-pubescent boy? No? Probably not? They’ll find it too hard?

That’s what she said. Ba dom bom ching!

35 Memes That Will Make you Feel Better About Being a Hot Mess

Bein’ a hot mess ain’t easy but it sure is common.

In fact, it’s one of the most popular topics in the parenting meme-iverse and recognized as the international symbol of acceptance among many parenting communities. Solidarity sister, we are in this sh*tshow together.

Check out these memes if you want to feel better about walking around all day with a chili stain on your crotch or accidentally sending a sext to your kid’s teacher. We gotchu, fam.

 
1.

screenshot_2019-03-29-20-56-20.png

There’s nothing more versatile than the coveted baby wipe; you can use it for counters, asses and faces. (Just not in that order.)
Via @accidentalsupermom 

 

2.

Screenshot_2019-03-29-20-51-54
I’m not lying when I say that dishes are the worst. I’m also not lying when I say the Skip The Dishes app is my new best friend.
Via @fakeadultmom 
3.

Screenshot_2019-03-29-13-42-19~2

Ahh cereal, a dinner time staple. Can I interest you in Le Chocolat De Count or Crème de la Cheerios?
Via @draggingfeeties

 

4.

Screenshot_2019-03-29-13-41-13~2
I mean, I’m not going to do anything about it other than find a new excuse for my hot mess couture, but…..
Via @mom.wine.repeat

 

5.
Screenshot_2019-03-29-13-40-24~2
From pregnancy glow to aww hell no.  You might not even see it coming but after a few years of being a SAHM, there’s a trainwreck leaving the station and you’ll be on it.
Via @macaroniandmomjeans

 

6.

Screenshot_2019-03-29-13-40-18~2
Luckily for us hot mess moms,  camera filters have come a long way over the years and we can now easily hide those eye bags and chin hairs with a flip of a switch. Just don’t forget to flip that switch, because no one needs to know how hairy and sleep deprived we really are.
Via @momtransparenting

7.

Screenshot_2019-03-29-13-40-06~2

It’s complicated, don’t ask questions.
Via @askatewouldhaveit

 

8.
Screenshot_2019-03-29-13-39-57~2
Spoiler alert: Still a hot mess, but a hot mess with amazing hair.
Via @macaroniandmomjeans

9.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-23-07-24~2

Surely this is a conspiracy, right? My Snapchat filters have led me to believe that I’m supposed to have butterflies floating around my head, giant eyes and glowing skin at all times. So who’s that swamp donkey in the security camera? I demand answers!
Via @unicornmoms

 

10.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-23-07-04~2

I slipped into something a little more comfortable for you, I know how much you love Crocs and ripped sweatpants. Now get over here and run your fingers through my greasy hair before I’m not in the mood again.
Via @mommymemest

 

11.

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ICEBERG STRAIGHT AHEAD!! We’re all gonna dieeeee.
Credit unknown

 

12.

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You know what Susan, my kid is trying to take a dump behind that tree and I gotta bounce.
Via @itsmommyhour

 

13.

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You might be a hot mess if this is a recurring fear you have every time you’re out in public now.
Via @snarkybreeders

 

14.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-22-53-31~2

Where do I sign up because this is literally the only type of mom meetup I’d be on board for. I’ll bring the donuts and vodka.
Via @motherhaggard

 

15.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-22-56-28~2

TRYING is the key word here. Spoiler alert: I don’t.
Via @alyceoneword

 

16.

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THIS IS AN EMERGENCY! SEND BACKUP! And can you stop and grab me a latte from Starbucks when you’re on the way here? My caffeine levels are dropping rapidly and I may need an IV.
Via @stonecolddaddy

 

17.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-22-47-48~2
Friends don’t let friends feel bad about how clutter-filled and messy their house is. They just push some crap out of the way to make a path to the wine.
Via @momcomnyc
18.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-22-46-40~2
If you haven’t though about handing your kids off to strangers at least once, are you even a hot mess who is desperate for a break?
Via @bombingatmomming

19.

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It brings a tear to my eye *Sniffle*
Via @fromthebottomofmypurse

 
20.

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Mommy needs a LOT more beauty sleep okay, kids? Wake me up if anyone is bleeding or the house is on fire.
Via @motherplaylist

 

21.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-22-44-38~2

About to lose it in 3, 2, 1……
Via @momof1anddone

 

22.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-22-42-43~2

You mean 10 as in 10 thousand, right? *gulp*
Via @onefunnymummy

 

23.

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And that’s on a GOOD day to be honest.
Via @paigekellerman

 

24.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-22-39-54
The good news is that you can shove all your dresses into the back of your closet along with your razor.
Via @salty_mermaid_entertainment

 

25.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-22-38-29

I don’t care where we go or how bad my hair looks as long as there are no kids and lots of alcohol.
Via @alyceoneword

 

26.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-22-35-30~2

Wait, what are these real pants you speak of???!
Via @modernmomprobs 

 

27.

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I mean, it’s basically the same. Except way less f*cks and a lot more caffeine.
Via @modernmomprobs

 

28.

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I paid $50 for this shit, it better make me look like Beyoncé within the next hour.
Via @justlikeatvmom

 

29.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-18-57-44~2

Actually I can and I will. And if you have any more thoughts about this, tomorrow I’ll wear my robe and slippers too.
Via @reneecharytan

 

30.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-18-56-05~2

Mysterious and interesting, yes, that sounds so much nicer than shit show hot mess.
Via @wheretheeffismyhandbook

 

31.

Screenshot_2019-03-28-18-53-33~2

This is basically my mantra. Holla.
Via @lifeattiffanys

 

32.

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Make it a Venti Grande Tall Extra Large with 2 shots of new life who dis?
Via @fakeadultmom
33.

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Are there people who don’t do this? Teach me your sorcery.
Via @housewife_plus

 

34.

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All this junk is just adding a natural rustic touch to the wood grain, so who’s the real winner here?
Via @marriageandmartinis

 

35.

screenshot_2019-03-28-18-51-21.png
The lady on the right looks like a hell of a lot more fun anyways. Just sayin.
Via @healthylivingforhotmesses

35 Memes that Explain What Self-Care Looks Like as a Parent

If you’ve ever fantasized about doing absolutely nothing at all for an extended period of time, you might be a parent who is in desperate need of some me time. Let’s face it, the words parenting and self-care go together like kids and a clean house. Or DJ Khaled and not saying his name in every song he mixes. What I’m trying to say is, they don’t go together, at least not naturally.

We went over unconventional methods of self-care in my previous post The Desperate Mom’s Guide to Self-Care, and today I’m hitting you up with a barrage of memes that spell out what self-care (or lack thereof) looks like as a parent.  It’s a popular topic in the parenting community because WHO THE HECK ACTUALLY HAS TIME FOR THIS??

  1. Maybe lavender would be more calming if you were hiding from your kids in a lavender field for a week. Or you could try this:
    Screenshot_2019-03-20-13-12-08~2

Via @kristinakuzmic

 
2. Self-care as a parent is best when setting the bar low, and then lowering it more, and then throwing the bar away all together and hoping for a miracle.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-13-11-35~2
Via @Macgyveringmom22

 

3.  Even though you might not have time for self-care or sitting in a chair, you might have time to fantasize about it often, which is basically the same thing, right?

Screenshot_2019-03-20-13-11-15~2

Via @themomatlaw

 

4.  If online shopping, binge watching Netflix and inappropriate humor are wrong, I don’t want to be right.  And if this list isn’t self-care as a parent, I don’t know what is.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-13-07-36~2

Via @mommyowl

 

5.  Night time me is so ambitious; morning me is more realistic.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-13-06-15~2

Via @mommycusses

6.  Some may call this an unhealthy coping mechanism, but you don’t need to hear that kind of negativity in your life, it’s self-care.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-13-02-18~2
Via @oldkidsbooks and @neverendingmommy

7.   The best plans are no plans. Because sitting in your bed by yourself is self-care.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-13-01-42~2

Via @fakeadultmom

 

8.  I’d hang out in a manure farm if it meant I got to be alone for an hour. Okay maybe not a manure farm, but you get my drift.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-12-58-16~2

Via @goldfishandchickennuggets
9.  I pay $30 a month to have the occasional uninterrupted shower and I’m not mad about it.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-12-51-53~2

Via @lessonsfromtheminivan

 

10.  Self-care is what the Doctor ordered, too bad he didn’t have a script for it.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-12-34-10~2
Via @macaroniandmomjeans

 

11.  I prefer my pizza in my belly but this self-care aromatherapy bath looks (and probably smells) like heaven.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-12-34-33~2

Via @vegansmoothiemama

 

 

12.  When you’re a parent, anything can be self-care if you really believe in yourself.
Screenshot_2019-03-20-12-38-55~2
Via @lifeattiffanys

 

13.  When you get one self care appointment for the year, you need the all inclusive package.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-12-40-49~2

Via @humorandwine

 

14.  Sure yoga is cool, but have you tried a tranquilizer?

Screenshot_2019-03-20-12-45-40~2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Via @mimosaswithmoms
15.   Tropical getaways have a new definition when you’re a parent.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-12-51-28~2

Via @accidentalsupermom

 


16.   I’m not saying luxuries change after kids, but actually I am saying luxuries change after kids.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-12-05-12~2

Via @silkymamas

 

17. &18.   Whether you booze and meditate or booze and rage, I’m not judging your self-care routine.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-11-55-44~2Screenshot_2019-03-20-11-54-44~2

Via @mom.wine.repeat and @macaroniandmomjeans

 

19.  I don’t care, burn the house down, I’ll make s’mores.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-11-53-38~2

Via @realramblinma
20.  It’s only rock bottom if you’re parked at the edge of a cliff, you’re good boo.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-11-53-17~2

Via @macaroniandmomjeans

 

21.  CRAP.  See also: WORTH IT

Screenshot_2019-03-20-11-52-12~2

Via @howtobeadad

 

22.   Parenting: if you want uninterrupted self-care, you might want to try an induced coma.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-11-50-20~2
Via @mommymemest

 

23.   I think this is actually the definition of self-care in the Webster’s dictionary.

screenshot_2019-03-23-09-21-31.png

Via @housewifeplus

 

24.  Why not take advantage of those first few months when your baby is a potato and bring them along for Botox appointments.

Screenshot_2019-03-21-14-21-33~2

Via @alrightmom

 

25.   If you’re taking notes, there’s a lot of hiding and very little seeking in the parent self-care game.

Screenshot_2019-03-21-09-13-19~3

Via @realtoughdad

 

26.  Them: tell me your wildest fantasy
Me:

Screenshot_2019-03-20-21-59-54~2

Via @mamasdoody

 

27.   Spoiler alert: you don’t get to relax
Screenshot_2019-03-20-16-24-55~2

 

Via @momtransparenting
28.   So many mythical creatures, so little time.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-13-46-58~2

via @mommyneedsamarg

 

29.  Take my money! WHERE DO WE SIGN UP FOR THIS?

Screenshot_2019-03-20-13-43-11~2

via @mommywinetime

 

30.   Lonely? Nah, this sounds like the definition of heaven.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-13-42-07~2

Via @katiebinghamsmith and @fromthebottomofmypurse

 

31.   Take notes: these are the real MVP’s when it comes to gifts for a mom.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-13-37-59~2

Via @askatewouldhaveit

 

32.  Parenting: where you’re willing to lose your limbs for a few minutes of alone time.

Screenshot_2019-03-20-13-35-37~2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Via @thenewstepford

 

33.  Speaking of hiding in the bathroom, did you bring snacks?

Screenshot_2019-03-23-18-43-09~2_resized

Via @mommyneedsalife

 

34.  Not everyone can afford a hotel, stop judging me Carol.

Screenshot_2019-03-25-12-42-25~2_resized

Via @paigekellerman_writer

 

35.  Funny you mention it, I’m writing this blog post in this exact scenario. *fist bump*

Screenshot_2019-03-23-12-12-23~2_resized

Via @marriageandmartinis

25 Memes That Explain What it’s Like to be an Awkward Introvert Parent

Today is #nationalawkwardmoments day and if there was ever a national -insert random thing here- day that I could relate to on a soul level, this is it. (Other than national carbs and yelling day, but I don’t think that’s a thing yet.) If you’re awkward and you know it,  raise your hand and trip over your feet at the same time! Then read these memes, because you might relate to a few.

 

1. Hello, I’d like to order a lifetime supply of these name tags please; also maybe it could say “please don’t talk to me” at the bottom?

Screenshot_2019-03-10-20-31-45
Via @scarymommy on Instagram

2.   Sometimes you just gotta fire off that text and stress about it for a million hours afterwards, amirite? Whatever keeps us up all night…

 

Screenshot_2019-03-18-14-52-18~2
Via @lifeattiffanys on Instagram

3. My brain: Correction- everything was going well but now we bout to make shit real awkward. What should we do first to drive people away? Talk about diarrhea and hemorrhoids or sneeze into the punch bowl?
Screenshot_2019-03-18-15-27-25~2
Via: @mommymemest on Instagram

 

4. I really need more friends but I don’t really want more friends, know what I mean? Listen it’s complicated Karen, let’s just cancel this play date and reschedule never mmkay? Good talk.

Screenshot_2019-03-18-15-47-29~2

Via @silkymams on Instagram

5.  Don’t make it weird, I’m weird enough.

Screenshot_2019-03-18-15-57-22~2

Via: @snarkybreeders on Instagram


6.  My Brain: Shut up! Pay attention to the social cues!
My mouth: nah, don’t listen to that, just keep talking until they run away fam!

ZomboMeme 08032019223237
Via @macaroniandmomjeans on Instagram

 

7.   I’ve never felt so seen. If you feel this to your core, you might be an awkward introvert and you might be comforted to know that there are more of us out there, (mostly in hiding.)

Screenshot_2019-03-18-14-45-59~2
Via: @bombingatmomming on Instagram

8.  “It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, Now I’m Filled With Regret”:  the title of my autobiography.

Screenshot_2019-03-18-14-42-39~2

Via @playdatesonfridays on Instagram

9.  Okay byyyeee, it’s been great not catching up, ignore ya (I mean see ya) at the next forced social gathering.

Screenshot_2019-03-18-14-32-35~2

Via @draggingfeeties on Instagram

10.  Hmm, I don’t get it. *peers out from my spot behind the tree where I’m hiding from the other parents, only to find my child had joined me*
Screenshot_2019-03-18-14-20-17~2
Via @mymomologue on Instagram

11.  Introvert vacations: like regular vacations but without the people, overstimulation, noise and bright lights. See also: our beds.

Screenshot_2019-03-18-14-14-55~2

Via @stamfordmommy on Instagram

12.  I don’t like to brag but I’m committed to my fitness and avoiding people I know at all costs.
Screenshot_2019-03-18-14-14-37~2
Via @difficultmommy on Instagram

13. It’s really weird, my phone does this thing where it rings while I’m trying to scroll through Instagram and also I don’t understand why you’re not texting me.

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Via @cmonmama on Instagram

14.  And this is why my mom friends are mostly on the internet. *shrugs*

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Via @motherhoodunderstood on Instagram

15.  This is fine. I’m fine.

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Via @closetoclassy on Instagram

16.  I’d love to come to your thing except I’m lying and I’d rather stay home and binge watch shows while eating snacks.

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Via @closetoclassy on Instagram

 

17.   Would you look at the time? It’s awkward o’clock and time to find a new park.

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Via @the.nerd.dad on Instagram

18.  I mean, yeah, I’m the life of the party if the party is filled with people I know and if the party is in my bed and there’s no other people.
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Via @amyweatherly on Instagram

19. Please refer to my nametag in point #1 of this list.

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Via the.nerd.dad on Instagram

20.  Hey, do you guys like Guacamole and thrift stores? Who wants to play charades? No one? Cool, I’ll go first….

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Via @mommymemest on Instagram

21.  Dear cashier at Target, I thought we were friends after you asked me if I wanted a bag and that’s why I’m now telling you my life story.
Signed: a mom who doesn’t get out much

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Via @macaroniandmomjeans on Instagram

 

22.  Can I order this??

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Via @marriageandmartinis on Instagram

23.  My favorite kind of small talk is the kind where no one talks to me.
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Via @healthylivingforhotmesses on Instagram


24.  If this isn’t your manifesto, are you even an awkward mom?

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Via @themomatlaw on Instagram

25.   If I could have any superpower, it would be to make myself disappear when someone suggests this awful activity in a group setting.

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Via @macaroniandmomjeans on Instagram

Why Medicating Our Son’s ADHD May Have Saved His Life

Two years ago, after a particularly difficult and frightening summer for our family, we received the ADHD diagnosis for our oldest child and made the decision to medicate. I believe it has saved his life, for many reasons, some that I won’t divulge here because he is now older and I feel that some things should be kept private, but it was a very intense two years and a long road leading up to the diagnosis and our eventual decision to medicate.

In short, there were calls home from the school, slipping grades, aggression in the school yard and turmoil at home that made things unsafe for our family. He has always been a smart child and an amazing athlete, but the symptoms of ADHD were hindering his abilities, affecting his well being and the well being of our family.

I wrote the following on the first day of giving my son medication in August of 2017:

Today was the first harmonious day we have experienced in our home in well over a year and I feel like crying tears of joy right now. I’ve been crying a lot lately, mostly tears of helplessness because I haven’t been able to find a way to help my oldest son and we have all been feeling like we are drowning.

Today my son said to me, “I feel like a new me” and my heart nearly burst with joy. He said he felt calm, that he didn’t feel angry, and for the first time in a long time, we saw the boy we knew was deep down inside of him. Today he was happy, agreeable, easy going and helpful. He showed gratitude and patience, and was able to respond to situations in a manner that was appropriate to the situation. He felt good, and it showed. 

Today our house was quieter, calmer, there were no meltdowns, tantrums, threats or fights. Today for the first time in over a year, our oldest son didn’t antagonize his younger siblings or call us names, he didn’t fight, act out, ignore us and bounce off the walls crying out that he hates his brain and wishes he was a “normal’ kid. A truly heartbreaking thing for a parent to hear. 

I didn’t feel like a terrible parent for not being able to “control” his behaviours or calm him with love and attention. I didn’t cry at night, wondering how I would wake up another day feeling helpless to his struggles and the heartbreaking things he said and did during an emotionally charged outburst. Today I didn’t lose my cool out of frustration or beat myself up thinking how I could have handled things better. I didn’t feel like a terrible mother. 

Today we started medication for ADHD and we felt like we gave our son his life back.

I will admit that I used to view ADHD in the way that television or movies portrayed it; as hyperactivity and a lack of focus, but that’s only a small portion of the challenges people with ADHD face. They may also struggle with impulses, emotional regulation, aggression, concentration, organization, and extreme difficulties accomplishing regular tasks of every day life.

The opinions of others made me feel like we had given up by medicating our son, but in reality if we hadn’t stepped in, I feared the worst for him. The truth is, unless you are living in someone’s home, experiencing their lives firsthand and walking in their shoes, you wouldn’t know what is best for their family or their child.

So although I know I will have to deal with the occasional comments and criticisms or skeptical looks from outsiders when they hear about medication or ADHD, I know what science says, I know what my experiences say and I know what my heart says. 

I realized that there was no amount of love, activity, diet change, positive parenting class or essential oil that could have changed things for our son, because ADHD starts inside a person’s brain. Without getting into the science behind it, their brains are different, they are lacking certain chemicals and it affects their mental health and wellness. 

Although we realize medication is most useful in conjunction with therapy and positive parenting, and that medication is only the beginning of our journey, we feel it is a necessary step to help improve our son’s quality of life and to realize his true potential. To calm the negative thoughts and turmoil in his mind so he can see through the fog and know how amazing he really is. 

There are many people in our family who struggle with ADHD, and some of them are adults, so although some argue that it is overdiagnosed in children, contrary to outdated mentality, it is NOT a made up illness. ADHD is a brain disorder, not a behavior problem or a result of bad parenting.

I know this, because today I saw the symptoms of ADHD lifted from my child and when the smoke cleared, a happier, healthier 7 year old re-emerged.

Today was a good day.

 

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I Planned To Eat a Sandwich, But I Gave Birth Instead

February 19th, 2015

“You failed your NST today, do you know what that means?” the OB nurse looked at me matter-of-factly while I sat on the hard gurney waiting for my 35-week ultrasound results.

I parted my lips to answer but before I could come up with a response, she tapped on her clipboard and said, “You’re probably going to be admitted to the hospital again, okay honey? We have to find you a room first, so if you want you can go to the cafeteria and grab some lunch, just come back here in about a half an hour.”

I was unfazed. Actually I was hungry so all I really heard was an invitation to have lunch and an uninterrupted nap. During my previous admission to the hospital for pre-term labor symptoms, I had my own private room, my meals delivered to me and zero responsibilities aside from letting my body cook the two babies that were in utero while the professionals monitored them. It was basically a vacation, but more sterile and with people accosting my body with medical devices several times a day.

I hobbled slowly to the cafeteria, now 35 weeks pregnant with twins and barely mobile. I was sure it would take me the full half an hour just to get to the cafeteria. My crotch bone felt like it was about to cave under the weight of my uterus and my lower back had all but given up hope on survival months ago.

Although I was mildly concerned about what had transpired during my ultrasound that had required 2 techs to gather around the screen and mumble things like “I don’t see any here, do you?” my rumbling tummy was too busy reminding me that I needed to devour some grub ASAP.

I killed a foot long sub in record time and played around on my phone before heading back to triage, where I was greeted by the nurse from earlier and a high risk obstetrician. The OB took a minute to explain that they couldn’t find any measurable amniotic fluid on Baby A, and then her next words floored me:  “You’re not being admitted for monitoring, we have decided it’s best for you to give birth today.”

“Like, now?” I asked in a panic. I wasn’t prepared, I didn’t have any of the shit they tell you to bring to the hospital like slippers and my own pillow or one of those cute birthing gowns and a birthing playlist with “Push It” by Salt N Pepa on it. My makeup looked like crap and I was going to need a fresh face for post birth photos. My breath reeked of onions from the sub, I definitely needed a toothbrush and a breath mint. OMG I though,  my hoo ha is probably bush league right now.

It also dawned on me that I was alone, I didn’t even have a husband there to annoy me while I expelled humans from my body. (Uhh, I mean share in this special moment together.)

I saw the OB reading my frantic expression, although she probably assumed I had a more logical thought process going on that revolved around the health of my babies and not the size of my bush.

“We’re going to get you in a delivery room right now and start the process of inducing you. Don’t worry, it will still be hours before the babies are delivered so as soon as we get you into the room you can call your husband and family.”

Before I knew it I was being wheeled to a delivery room and introduced to a slew of nurses and doctors and given an ugly hospital gown instead of the cute leopard one I should have ordered on Amazon.

“How much do you weigh, Stacey?” the nurse on duty asked me while recording things on her chart.  “A ton,” I lamented, followed with “Uh, I haven’t been weighed since I was 20 weeks along and I was hoping we could keep it that way.”

Luckily my nurse appreciated my sense of humor and she chuckled as she threw a guesstimate onto her chart that I caught a glimpse of later and nearly cried. I also warned her about the potential situation happening with my crotchal region.  “I haven’t been able to see down there in awhile, it’s kind of been a guessing game,” I apologized. She assured me that she saw vaginas all day and bushes were making a comeback.

I called my husband and my mom, the Doctor broke my water and the next few hours were a blur of needles being shoved into me, contractions, me cracking inappropriate jokes, and ultimately being wheeled into the blinding lights of the OR with a team of people hovered around my vagina. My mom took pictures and my husband held onto one of my dead legs for dear life. I couldn’t feel a thing and it was glorious.

The birth went smoothly and thankfully no medical intervention was needed that warranted delivering in the OR.  Baby A came out like a wrecking ball, and he was only handed to me long enough for me to say “You’re so beautiful! Disgusting, but perfect,” to his tiny slimy body before they whisked him away and carried on like it was a baby birthing assembly line.

Baby B arrived 10 minutes later and he was noticeably bigger and redder but every bit as slimy and perfect, but he too was whisked away from me before I had a chance to stare at him and decide if he had inherited my weird chin and resting bitch face.

I was able to admire my placenta for longer than I saw my children, the Doctor lifted up the sack of brain meat and said “It’s a….placenta!”  I think they may have even offered to wrap it in a blanket and let me hold it as consolation.

They whisked my body away like I was the afterbirth, the discarded baby maker that was no longer needed and could be dumped into a bin somewhere with the placentas.

My babies were somewhere in an incubator and it was jarring not seeing them, not holding them or feeding them, and not doing all of the things you typically get to do when you give birth, the way I had after I had my first born. I felt detached and useless but I tried to focus on the positives: I looked a lot skinnier than I did a few hours ago.

I inhaled a plate of spaghetti because my new supermodel body needed carbs and my sweet nurse was nice enough to offer her dinner to me. She could probably see me just wasting away now that I was 13 pounds lighter than the 468 pounds she recorded me at earlier.

The most important thing was that my babies were here, they were safe, they were being monitored by professionals and kept in an incubator because they were premature. But aside from seeing them for a few minutes in the incubator, I was brought back to my room that night to sleep without them and my hormones couldn’t handle it. I told my husband that I felt like I had given birth to someone else’s babies and I started crying.

The nurses brought me a breast pump machine to console me and told me to try and suction my tits to get my milk flowing. Stop crying and milk yourself, selfish woman!  The machine made loud grunting noises and tugged on my breasts while my tears turned to laughter as I compared myself to a cow.

My twins spent 10 days in the NICU mostly for observation, baby A was 5lbs and 3oz at birth and he had a heart murmur but was otherwise healthy. Baby B was 6lbs and 11oz at birth and had some extra blood and needed a CPAP for the first night to help him breathe, but he was also otherwise healthy.

I finally got to hold both of them at the same time when they were a week old and it was the most amazing feeling in the world. I had only been able to hold them individually up until that point and I finally felt complete when they put them both in my arms. I also low key felt like a cat with a litter but so hashtag blessed and proud AF.

Another mom with a preemie in a pod nearby smiled at me while I grinned ear to ear holding my babies as a nurse took pictures.  I was incredibly happy but also silently panicking trying to figure out how the hell I was going to maneuver the two of them back out of my arms having no arms to use and I got a glimpse into my immediate future as a mom with twin infants.

My 5-year old son finally got to meet his brothers when we brought them home; the hospital had been under strict visitor regulations due to a flu outbreak and he had only seen pictures of them.

He was happy to meet his new brothers and even though it was chaotic at the time, our family was complete and we were full of love and floating on cloud 9 for those first few months. It was probably also caffeine and sleep deprivation clouds we were floating on, but it was a magical time nonetheless.

The memories are almost magical enough to drown out the sound of all 3 of them right now, 4 years later, screaming and trying to kill each other over Legos and making me wonder how I can get another free stay in the hospital for even a brief period of time. I’d pay for a sterile vacation right about now.

Happy Birthday My Loves

 

 

 

I Want to be Body Positive, But I Want to Lose Weight, Here’s Why

Every time I scroll social media and see women stripping down -both their insecurities and their clothes- and celebrating the imperfections of their bodies, I stop and admire their pictures and marvel at the positive image they portray by showing that all bodies are real, flawed, and worthy of love. It’s beautiful and inspiring.

Their words of body positivity and self-love always cut me to the core: “You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to live up to impossible beauty standards. You don’t have to change.”  And they are right, we don’t have to base our self-worth on our size, we don’t have to go to extreme methods to force our bodies into sizes they weren’t meant to fit into, and we don’t have to give in to diet culture.

I want to be body positive but I want to lose weight, and here’s why I think it’s okay to be both.

I don’t care about having a perfectly flat tummy,  I’m unbothered by my faded stretch marks, or the scar above my belly button from an old piercing that stretched out with my expanding uterus during pregnancy. I’ve embraced many of the changes that my body has gone through with age and becoming a mother, and my focus isn’t on perfection or vanity weight.

The weight I’m carrying right now makes me feel sluggish, unhealthy, and puts me in the overweight category, which can come with health risks and have a negative impact on my overall well being. The weight I’m carrying is emotional weight; it reminds me that I’ve been using food as a coping mechanism instead of finding healthy ways to deal with stress. The extra weight is a reminder that I have dealt with a lot of pain this past year and that I’m not only carrying it mentally, but physically too.

I want to lose the extra weight because it symbolizes what I have gone through emotionally and it is a product of something negative. 

The body positivity movement tells me that I should love my body at any size, and while I agree that all bodies are worthy of love at any size, I don’t feel like myself at the size I am now and I know I got here by not taking care of myself and my health. I want to feel healthier and be able to complete a workout without feeling like I’m going into cardiac arrest. I want to have stamina and strength and feel strong and energetic.

I am curvaceous by nature and I embrace it, even at a smaller weight I will always be fuller in the hips, butt and thighs, and although I once tried to fight against my body’s natural curves as an adolescent, I have grown to love it. I accept and love my body’s natural shape and I’m not trying to achieve something that is unsustainable for my body type.  I want to show my body love by eating better, exercising, finding positive ways to deal with stress and getting back to a weight that is healthy for me.

I think it’s okay to both love your body and want to make positive healthy changes in your life that may ultimately lead to carrying less weight and feeling better all around. Overall I don’t think we should shame anyone for their own personal journey with body love, because it’s different for everyone.

 

19 Memes that Spell Out What Women Want From Their Husbands

Husbands, do you feel like your wife is too complicated to understand and often difficult to please? Well say no more fam, because we have comprised this handy guide in the form of memes that spell out exactly what she wants (and doesn’t want) to help you get into her mind, possibly her pants and to prevent your untimely death.

  1.  LET HER SLEEP, FOR WHEN SHE WAKES SHE MAY BE HORNY.
    According to @snarkybreeders your sex appeal will increase by 400% if you let her enjoy several hours of uninterrupted sleep. Via Snarky Breeders on Instagram.Screenshot_2018-10-16-19-45-18_resized
  2.   TAKE THE KIDS AND LEAVE.
    Just go literally anywhere with the kids for an extended period of time, without prompting or warning.  A week long vacation would be best, but she’ll settle for a few fucking hours of peace.Via Ramblin’ Mama on InstagramScreenshot_2018-10-16-20-56-50_resized
  3.  Wipe the asses, suck the snot out with the nose Frida, and cook the dinner. Maybe not in that order but you get the drift. You’re basically Jason Momoa to your wife now.
    Via Relaxing Mommy on Instagram.screenshot_2018-10-16-20-56-39_resized.png
  4.   Nothing says good old fashioned married people romance like a man who gets up with the kids in the morning. See also #1: Let her Sleep and appendix C: Sex.
    Via Macgyvering Mom on Instagram
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  5.  Dayummm, I think we’re all a little jealous of @whineandcheezits hubby, who is obviously in the running for Husband of the Year Award. I mean, I’m sure we’d all be happy with a man bringing dinner home but guys, SHOOT FOR THE STARS, take notes from this guy, he’s obviously a legend and probably has a lot of sex. Just sayin’
    Via Whine and Cheezits on Instagram Screenshot_2018-10-16-18-08-12_resized
  6. Would you rather be stabbed during an afternoon nap or have sex with your wife? The choice is yours bayybeee.
    Via Not the WORST Mom on InstagramScreenshot_2018-10-16-20-41-20_resized
  7.  If you don’t want to star in an upcoming Netflix murder special featuring your wife as the knife-wielding psychopath, and your balls as the victim, don’t be excessively late.
    Via Marriage and Martinis on InstagramScreenshot_2018-10-16-20-59-11_resized
  8. Her body not only held the humans, but it also expelled the humans, so it’s your turn to experience a little genital discomfort and get the vasectomy bro.
    Via It’s Mommy Hour on InstagramScreenshot_2018-10-16-20-49-19_resized
  9.   I mean, do I really even need to caption this one for you? Everything is out in the open, and it very well could be for you too, if you put the kids to bed tonight, if you know what I’m sayin. *wink, wink*
    Via Mommy Cusses on Instagramscreenshot_2018-09-17-12-46-59_resized-e1543810298219.png
  10.  Send her for some pampering, or on an all expenses paid trip to Tahiti, whatever, just let her enjoy some self-care sans children. Locking herself in the bedroom with cookies isn’t cutting it anymore.
    Via Mom Com NYC on InstagramScreenshot_2018-10-16-21-01-24_resized
  11. Sure, compliments are nice, but telling her she has a nice ass probably won’t get you any. If you’re married with kids, the best way to win her heart is to do your part around the house.  And not just when you want sex guys, we’re on to you. 

Via Marriage and Martinis on Instagram

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12.  Are you sensing a theme here yet?  Good, because we heard that repetition is important for committing things to long term memory, but if not, there’s always screenshots, using your saved folder, emailing it yourself, tattooing it on your body, whatever it takes.
Via Snarky Breeders on Instagram

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13.  Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Mother
Mother who?
Mother f*cker, just listen to your wife. Trust me, it’s the strongest form of foreplay.

Via Silky Mamas on Instagram
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14. Be David Beckham. With all the advancements in modern day technology, it’s not crazy to think that you couldn’t pay a few thousand bucks to look like the sexy soccer star. Victoria Beckham always looks ready for action so you know he’s doing something right.

Creator: unknown

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15. Remember the movie Fight Club? Well this is kinda like that except the first rule of being happily married is to NEVER tell your wife to calm down or to stop overreacting, unless of course, you want her to get ragey and try to fight you.
Via Her View From Home on Instagram

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16.  If you think the romance bar is set too high, think again. Washing her booby machine will have her looking at you like Ariana Grande looked at that Pete dude during their month-long f*ckfest.
Via Mom Unraveled on Instagram

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17.  Did we already mention cleaning the kitchen and putting the kids to bed? Well this time, it involves wine, so there’s bonus points to infinity when you give her wine and take care of some shit around the house. Plus, everyone loves a drunk wife.
Via Macgyvering Mom on Instagram

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18. It’s so much sexier when a man can figure shit out himself, even if it means dumpster diving for those directions you tossed.
Via Goldfish And Chicken Nuggets on Instagram

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19.   Nobody wants an unhappy wife who murders. Prevent premature husband death by keeping a close eye on your drinks and sleeping with one eye open. Just kidding, just do some of the shit on this list on a regular basis and she won’t have to kill you or hire a hitman, plus she might even want to bone you on the regular,  the end.
Via Not the WORST Mom on Instagram

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Birthdays, Hormones and Throwbacks

Tomorrow my first born Brady turns 9, and in typical mom form, I’m over here looking through his damn baby pictures like a blubbering fool and reminiscing on all the Birthdays that have gone by.  During my travels I also stumbled upon the old blog I started when I was pregnant with Brady and amidst all the sweet, sappy memories I uncovered, I also found this gem from week 36 of my pregnancy that made me giggle.  I’ll write something meaningful for his Birthday tomorrow, but in the meantime, let’s travel back to September 3rd, 2009.


I’m a Happy Camper

Week 36. I’m huge. I wear everything I eat; at any given time I have at least 3 food or drink stains on my belly. Everything just seems to land conveniently on my stomach or in my cleavage, and I’m a slob to begin with so this belly is merely accentuating my piggish ways.

Brady is cramped tightly inside my uterus but he still finds a way to constantly move around in there, causing my stomach to take on a life of its own. He practically wedges himself into my sternum when I’m slouching which I’m assuming is his way of telling me to improve my posture and also make some more goddamn room for him. He gets the hiccups constantly, which was cute at first but now it’s averaging about 3 times a day.

So I had my OB appointment this morning and there is nothing new to report except that my car is a piece of shit and there is nowhere to park at the hospital. lol. The 95 mercury “mistake” was puttering all the way to the hospital, revving, stalling and stinking like exhaust fumes as per usual. It never fails to put me in a bad mood just from the mere act or thought of driving it . At the hospital I attempted to park in the visitor lot but after circling it 3 times and finding not one empty space, I got pissy and drove right back out of the lot and straight to my mom’s house. Seriously, why the hell does the stupid machine give you a ticket and let you in the lot if the damn parking lot is full?

Anyways, I showed up at my mom’s house about ready to burst into tears of frustration. “I need you to drive me to the hospital!” I blurted out when she opened the door, which I’m sure is a comforting opening line for any mother to hear. She immediately disconnected the phone with whomever she was talking to, likely assuming I was going into labour or dying.

I quickly reassured her that I was just being hormonal and not bleeding from the eyes or in need of an ambulance. “I’m late for my appointment, my car is a piece of shit that’s dying and there’s nowhere to park at the hospital. Can you drop me off?”
She quickly obliged.

Other than having my va-jay-jay swabbed to be tested for Strep B, the appointment went fine and all is well in pregnancy land. I should be happy that thus far the baby is healthy and that I haven’t had any major complications like gestational diabetes or anything out of the ordinary. All I can ask for is a healthy baby and a delivery that doesn’t kill me. *crossing fingers*

I realize that my blogs are becoming angrier as the pregnancy progresses but that’s just because writing provides a convenient outlet for me to bitch and complain, plus it makes for a more interesting read. Happy stuff gets boring and redundant, but I’ll throw some positivity in here next time just to switch it up.

Until then, fuck everything! 🙂

 

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