Allison Cooper

In theory, the concept of a new mom not being able to answer your phone calls and/or texts right away should be self-explanatory...

Every single day of our lives, since the moment that we bring home our beautiful child from the hospital — well, actually, well before that — we are faced with a multitude of decisions that will impact their lives. Some decisions are more serious than others. Yet the constant need to rip parents apart for the decisions they make is so unnerving to me that I simply can’t take it anymore.

Whenever you see a mom rocking her “mom-leggings,” and you judge or shame her, I beg you to take an effing step back, get off your high horse and take a second to understand that she’s just been through a lot and these leggings are giving her life.

Dear Oldest Son, Life these days is all about dividing and conquering. I feel more and more like I’m dividing and conquering so many things.

I’m not going to lie or sugarcoat my feelings right now — I’m nervous about going from a mom of one to a mom of two. My son is seven, so he, my husband, and I have had seven years of time as “just the three of us.”

Having a full schedule can be a wonderful thing, but also exhausting and a time suck — sucking time away from you! Take a look at your monthly calendar and plan what is most important to you and your family.

I’m well aware that this should probably be the last thing on my mind as we get ready to deliver Baby Number Two in a few months, but it’s there. Yes, it’s mixed up in my brain with thoughts of getting the right crib and making sure that our organic crib mattress gets delivered on time, but it is a dominant thought, something that I’m legitimately worried about.

Yes, it’s a public place, but neither myself or any movie-going patron should have to worry that they might not be able to hear what’s being said on the big screen because a baby is crying. End of story.

There is nothing worse than feeling guilt in the evening whenever you think about what you consumed during the day — it’s such a sucky feeling. I try to blame it on how busy I am, since it’s not my fault that all the easy to reach for food are often the ones I shouldn’t be grabbing.

Anxiety is a word that is used quite often in adulthood, but what happens when it’s a child dealing with it? Many times it’s brushed off as fear, leaving parents questioning: When is fear just fear, or time to talk to a doctor?