Tamarah Rockwood

Typical advice: Go out there and find yourself...on the precipice of death overlooking a valley of broken dreams, student loans, and tears.

My house is a mess, my patience is hardly a composure I explore regularly, and there are times when I feel like I am the biggest failure in the history of modern motherhood. Some days I’m just shooting for a participation trophy. There is no award for ignoring the laundry until everyone is out of underwear, or letting my 3-year-old watch Mulan 3 times before lunch. Did I mention I take my kids to McDonald’s once a week?

"Who puts folded shirts on top of your closet shelf? I can hardly reach the hangers, alone. Honestly, people."

"I just can’t see Donald Trump on the ballot as being the most disgusting thing in the world. Right? I mean, there must be things out there that are actually more disgusting than Donald Trump."

The impropriety of the nefarious Zero Tolerance Policy is a double edged sword. On one hand, you cut the serious threats which could jeopardize the students and teachers in school. No doubt, if a kid has a gun in their backpack — serious threat. On the other hand, you cut the benign and harmless students who are blindsided after the handcuffs are slapped on their wrists, and they are escorted out by police for building a clock for their robotics club.

What I am not saying: "I am now going to take this opportunity to rub in your face what an inadequate parent you are for not sacrificing your entire life to homeschool your children, who you obviously don't love."

My brain seems to have stopped functioning at its full capacity, and I am simply going through the motions of loading the car and unloading the car at this point. Kids? Check. Purse? Check. Shoes? Check. Towels? Purely optional. Sunblock? Check.

Yet, there is life beyond just t-shirt and jeans. There is more to an ensemble than denim and scarves.

So, I ask myself: “Self, how much would you spend at Disneyland for a 3 day trip?” and then I would counter that with, “Self, how much could that money get you…anywhere else?”

I just wonder. . . if my daughter came home one day and said she couldn’t have a job because she was too old, how would that be right?