Is there a stage in childhood characterized by the asking of a bajillion questions per day? If so, I believe we are firmly in it.

This past Thursday I woke up at 6:30 between four pale pink walls, shivering underneath a paper-thin polka dot sheet, with Wedding Ariel (for beginners, that’s The Little Mermaid after she’s no longer a mermaid–#sellout) wedged between my hip and the mattress.

Natasha Aponte “Tinder pranked” a group men in Union Square, summoning them all with a right swipe, telling them to meet her at the landmark for a date.

TL;DR: It’s about “Snapchat Dysmorphia,” a new term used to describe a condition in which people are beginning to expect–to want–ourselves to look as perfect IRL as we do on our Snapchat (or Instagram) filters.

Frequently on this blog and on my social media channels, you’ll find me making fun of myself. If anyone out there is keenly aware of her faults as a mom and person, it’s me.

Andrew has found the biggest way to step up and help me feel half-human again during the day. And it’s just by doing this one thing: He wakes up in the morning with the baby and allows me to get an extra hour of sleep.

I was listening to Julie Solomon’s podcast interview of Rachel Hollis the other day when Rachel said something so strikingly effective on the topic of social media FOMO and envy, I had to share it with you all.

I am more than late to the party on the unearthing (and savoring) of this essay, but if you’re a mom or dad, please take a few minutes to read one of the truest essays about parenthood ever written.

Hey you. Yeah, you. The one who’s sitting, scrolling, exhausted, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Welcome to the sisterhood. Motherhood. We’re a wily bunch here.

When you find yourself saying “I’ll strip down naked if I have to, I just need to get on this flight,” you know your weekend away is off to a good start. Rewind!