Kristi Pahr

2016 sucked. If we can’t agree on anything else, I think we can all agree on at least that much.

I’m frazzled, y’all; I’m a mess. I’m a basketcase of anxiety and stress and I need to chill.

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

I’m not a TV person. I used to be, but not so much anymore.

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.

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

I feel like if I’d started earlier, had my first kid at 28 instead of 34, maybe I’d be a little less tired right now. Maybe I’d be a more fun mom if my knees didn’t sound like small arms fire every time I tried to run with my son. Maybe I’d be a better mom if I was younger. But I don’t think so. My kids? They’re awesome. And I’m the mom they have, so I must be doing something right, old or not.

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.