Allison Cooper

My fingers are currently grazing the keyboard as my arms reach around my four week old, who happens to be strapped to my chest in our BabyBjorn – which has been my saving grace these days. She’s sleeping soundly, but just moments ago she was wailing (I’m speculating that I have a colicky baby on my hands) and this is the only way that I can get my work done. No shower yet today (it’s 1 pm, gross), pretty much all I’ve eaten is a quick bowl of oatmeal (and of course coffee) and have been up for the day since 5am (plus countless feeding during the night). But I’m chugging forward. Yup, being a mom of a newborn makes me feel superhuman.

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...

I've noticed an evolution within myself over the past year: I’ve been avoiding leaving my house at all costs.

I promise that 10 years from now, you won’t look back and find yourself saying “remember that amazing picture you posted of the Christmas cookies on Instagram? The one where the lighting was perfect and you had all the right red and green props in the background?” That won’t happen, ever.

There are days when you look in the mirror at yourself, nights when you looks at your husband, and moments when you squeeze your son that you wonder if you have anything left to give. You have given so much to being a mom that there are moments when you lose sight of it all. Don’t lose sight of me, the person that you were before and the things that made your happy. Don’t let me disappear.

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?

When I brought my son into the world, I thought that he would be an awful lot like me. He had to be, right? He grew inside me; I nourished him; I was the one home with him day in and day out during those very impressionable years, while my husband worked a grueling military schedule — yet there are few similarities to be found.

Then all of a sudden he stopped and muttered the words, “Nevermind mom, you don’t understand. You’re not a gamer.” That stopped me in my tracks.

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've noticed that some moms include some pretty wild descriptors on their Twitter profiles. While some are out-there and some are just plain boring, reading them has left me scratching my head, wondering that they would waste their 140 characters on these terms.