Kristi Pahr

“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.

Don’t be an asshole is my barometer. It’s my go-to for figuring out how to respond to any given situation, big or small, personal, local, or global.

My version of self-care is a little less “best life” and a little more “no life”, but it works for me.

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.

It seems like everyone is an introvert these days.

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

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

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.

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

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