Kristi Pahr

I’ve been pregnant three times, and I have two beautiful, amazing, awe-inspiri

I have a confession to make. Target, meh. I’m just not that into it.

When my oldest son was a baby, my husband and I used to talk about what sports he would play.

I have to go shopping tomorrow and I’m dreading it.

Life looks a lot different at 40 than it did at 25, and I have a whole new list of things to worry about. It's a very long list, and it makes me anxious on the best day, plain terrified on the worst day, and on a run-of-the-mill day, it just keeps reminding me that I'm clueless about what to think and what to do and how to be grown.

I’m lazy as hell, you guys. I know it’s true and I’m not particularly ashamed.

I think we can all agree that there is some messed up stuff happening right now.

I know how it feels to not contribute financially to the household. I know how it feels to be completely dependent on someone else for my financial stability. I know how it feels to know that if something dreadful and unthinkable happened, I’d be completely destitute. And it’s terrifying.

“Is she Black or white?” I asked another mom who was describing a little girl in her son’s class that she thought my family might know.

When I got pregnant for the third time, I was determined to have an unmedicated VBAC. I had big plans. This VBAC was going to be my birth experience salvation. It was going to be empowering and amazing and heal all my hangups. I was going to be a mama goddess and everything was going to be perfect. I was wrong.