Kristi Pahr

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

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

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

As a mother of boys, I find this trend disturbing. Yes, we need to build up our girls. We need to empower them and teach them that they are capable and viable and powerful — that they are smart and that they matter. But we cannot devalue our boys in the process.

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

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.

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.

Once your doctor or midwife has cleared you for sex and you’re feeling ready to get back in the saddle, so to speak, there are a few things you’ll need to mentally prep yourself for.

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.