Kristi Pahr

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.

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

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

It is understood that to effectively and officially attachment parent your child, you need to hit all the markers, check all the boxes, and do it without dissolving into a crying mess on the floor when your baby won’t stop crying and you only slept for two hours and you have to go to the supermarket because you’re out of coffee, but you shouldn’t even be DRINKING coffee and you’re the worst mother in the world.

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

I found my first gray hair when I was 12 years old. Twelve. I had gray hair before I had a period.

It seems like everyone is an introvert these days.