I said it to my husband last night as I was ready to fall into bed at 11pm. I was bone tired. Just exhausted. And I was losing my temper–frustrated for a number of reasons. The baby had gotten up a total of four times in the past hour. I had a clogged milk duct (ohdearlordhavemercy)…

I joke a lot on this blog about motherhood. I highlight the crazy stuff, I share lots of stories, and overall try to keep it as real as possible. But no matter how much I joke, I hope the truth always shines through–I am crazy in love with my kids.

So, it’s officially Christmas break. Kids! Toys! Dozens of undone tasks on my to-do list!

It’s funny how quickly bad news travels–especially things that aren’t supposed to get back to you. Things that are mean. Inconsiderate. Judgmental. Just all-around crappy.

I don’t have enough phalanges to count the number of times people have asked me why I quit my job in TV news.

Some things you can’t understand until you experience them. Yeah… that’s motherhood.

It occurred to me recently just how very physical being a mom is. Lifting, moving, rocking, nursing, holding, changing them.

It hit me as I surveyed the family room one night recently, standing smack in the center of the same three-foot radius where 75% of any given day revolves—the kitchen sink.

Parenting is nothing if not an emotional roller coaster. Like, The Hulk of emotional roller coasters.

There are several occasions in life which force a woman to confront the inevitable and apparent fact that—despite what her inner 19-year-old brain and sometimes fashion sense is telling her—she is undeniably, objectively, and painfully.. a grown up.