It was early summer. I was sticky and the sun was hot and I wandered our neighborhood trying desperately to get my baby to take a nap and maybe make myself feel like I had this motherhood thing down. My baby, however, had different ideas. She had shown signs of impending divahood very early on. From wailing until I held her, no matter how hard her dad tried to rock her into submission to screaming throughout the entire 45-minute car ride to visit my mom (every. single. time), low maintenance this child was not.

I was trying hard to get a handle on it, trying to fit all of the pieces of the puzzle together to figure out how best to deal with her little personality.

Dear Friends,

Own your shit. There’s a certain amount of power that comes from wearing what you are proudly and not apologizing for it—that last part is the bit I have trouble with. My speech is generally laced with sorries for things I have no business being sorry for.

The weather’s turning shitty? Sorry.
You walked into the door and scraped your elbow? Sorry.
Stuck in traffic? Sorry.
You don’t like the sound of children’s laughter? Sorry.

Only I’m not sorry about any of these things. Do I feel bad that you may be disappointed and/or perturbed about something that’s going on? Sure. But I don’t need to take on your shit and make it my own. I don’t have to apologize.

 Bathing suit shopping can be a dreaded event, but a little perspective shift might make it less intimidating. This list of 10 bathing suits for all body types was put together specifically with moms in mind. Let’s promise to get out of the chair and into the water with our kids this year! Completely updated for 2018.

I had a totally magical moment this spring. One of those moments that just blow your mind and completely shake your perspective.

I wore a bikini (important note: not a tankini) and NOTHING HAPPENED.

The world did not implode. People did not point and stare and laugh. In fact, no one noticed a shift in the universe at all. It was just a normal day. You would have never known that it had been ten years since any patch of my torso saw the light of day. You would have never known that it took an extraordinary amount of courage to take off my cover up and chase my kids around the water park.

You know why? Because I’m the only one who ever cared about any of it.

The amount of time we spend tied up in knots about what our bodies might look like and what people might think of them is straight up crazy. Nine times out of ten we’re our own worst critic. Most of the time, women are too busy worrying about their own bodies to give yours a second thought. And men? They’re too busy noticing the good bits to care much about the minor flaws.

And most importantly, if they do take notice, who the hell cares? What does some random stranger’s negativity have to do with your life anyway? Who wants to take on the potential negative thoughts of a whole world full of people? I’ve finally come to the conclusion that I don’t. I don’t have the energy to care what randos at the beach might have to say or think about my body. They don’t have to live in it. And I’d much rather run around making a wild fool of myself with my giggling girls than sit on the sidelines completely covered in fear of the opinions of people who mean nothing to me.

Of course, the key here is wearing something you feel comfortable in—without constantly pulling and tugging and rearranging. Luckily for me, high-waisted bottoms are all the rage right now and they just so happen to work for my body type… and hide the stretch marks that make me all self-conscious.

I rounded up ten fabulous swimsuits for all body types in hopes of helping you find something that will make you feel good. Promise me that you’ll give it a try this summer.

I was sitting at the island in my kitchen, face glued to my laptop and a buffet of paperwork spread out all around me. Across from me, my daughters sat. They had snacks. They had juice. They had homework and a coloring book to keep them occupied. Yet they were still doing their best to drive each other insane, dragging me along with them in the process. I just needed FIVE MORE MINUTES to finish my stack of editing for the day. Five. But somehow we all devolved into a yelling, whining, snapping, not very nice gaggle of irritation.

They had things to keep them busy. What else did they want?!

Oh.

Me. They wanted me, my attention and I was swatting them away like flies. What a shitty excuse for a mother.

Have you been there before? This doesn’t just pertain to mommas either. Wives, friends, daughters, anyone. Join me over on Mamalode (!!!) to hear why I think you don’t suck—snapping, overflowing with stress, distracted and all.

Image via FreeDigitalPhotos.net

This post is part of my 52 Essays project. This year I have set a goal for myself to write one finished piece every week(ish). I’m not sure what you can expect from them because I’m sort of winging it. Some will be good. Some will be less good. Hopefully you’ll love them. Maybe you’ll hate them. We’ll just have to wait and see. 😉 9/52

On preschool nights Ellie has the worst time falling asleep. So many thoughts and conversations are swirling around in her little head and she just can’t shut them up.

I’ll read her a story (hopefully one that does not include Barbie) and get her all snuggled in bed and she’ll keep popping her head up, remembering a mermaid Katie brought in for show and tell or how the new boy didn’t know the rules (“He got up when we were in the circle, momma!”).

By the time her eyelids start drooping, I’m pretty sure she has given me a play-by-play of her entire school day.

I came downstairs one night, particularly exasperated at the length of time it took for her to fade and my husband just stared at me, smirking.

“Apples and trees, my friend.”

I looked at him in exaggerated horror. “What are you implying?”