Kristi Pahr

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

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

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

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.

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

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.

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

“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.

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