I just need a MOMent! 

Let’s take a second and talk about “pregnancy brain”. You know that point in your pregnancy when progesterone has taken over it seems and your suddenly putting the milk in the pantry and the cereal in the fridge. Or you accidentally loose your keys in a take out box in the fridge for 9 hours and have half your friends searching for you. 

When I was about 5 months pregnant for our oldest I used the term Pregnancy Brain in a room with my husband, brother and his roommates, all college guys. I think football was on and they were getting food when one of them discovered cereal in the fridge. The moment I said it the whole room went quiet and all eyes where on me. After a second of inquisitive looks one said “I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing.” They all just assumed I was a little crazy and went back to football and all things man. A couple weeks later I found an article about it in a pregnancy book and proudly showed them all, to which I got the response “yeah I still don’t think it’s a thing.” Now in case you are wondering, my husband wasn’t the one making these statements. He lived with me and didn’t dare say anything about me and my hormonal state. 

That was 2013. The memory is something I chuckeled at over the years as one by one all of those guys got married and now have a child of their own. Meaning they have experienced their wives emotional, harmonal and one snide remarks away from the loony bin. 

Now a mom of three I’ve discovered something, pregnancy brain is something you get during pregnancy and in some ways never get rid of. Moms, you know what I’m talking about. ESPECIALLY if you live life outnumbered. 

A dear friend of mine and I refer to them as the Oh, Crap moments. My husband referres to it as scatter brain. Regardless it’s a MOMent. 

I had one of these MOMents a last weekend. It was the end of a rough 2 weeks and we had some family coming to town. We were all anxious to see loved ones, get out of the house and explore with them. Of course like any good mom I bathed the kids, folded the 12 loads of laundry on my sofa and got the house looking nice. Don’t go in my bedroom though! My husband mowed the lawn and cleaned off the pourches. In the midst of his cleaning he brought me something that needed to be cleaned. I took it into the laundry room and opted to soak it in the utility sink for a bit before putting it in the wash. I started the water, plugged the drain and put into the soaking liquid before stepping out of the laundry room for a min. 

When I stepped out of the messy laundry room into a cleaning living room, smelling of rose petals and book leather, my lovely Belles library candle, I smiled. My husband had come in from outside and was dancing with our girls while our youngest practiced walking around occasionally grooving to the music we had on. We talked for a minute about what we were gonna do next before I realized …… the girls bangs are kind of long, I should trim them. 

So I found my cutting sheers, a spray bottle of water and the girls and I went out front for a little hair cut…. oh but wait….. the bathroom needs some tidying. 

A few minutes, the bathroom now in order, I realized…. the youngest needs a bottle and a nap before company comes over! Off to do that task. After getting him settled and my attention now on the girls, we marched outside for bang trimming. After a good 5 min I walked back into the house to get the broom to sweep off the pourch my husband had so sweetly already cleaned. The broom was in THE LAUNDRY ROOM, the sink, the item I was cleaning! 

I immediately ran from the front door to a now, very wet laundry room. The sink was full and overflowing, the counter covered in water and spilling down on to the floor. I turned the water off and pulled the plug on the drain. Luckily the dirty clothes and towels that were on the floor waiting to be washed soaked up most of the mess. After grabbing some clean towels, the ones I just finished folding, getting a fan from the shop and getting the mess cleaned up, my husband walks into the room, freshly showered,  and ask “what happened?”

“Welllllllllll, you see what had happened was…the sink overflowed.” 


Yup! See one of the twelve loads of laundry I had just folded was a bundle of towels, the ones I used to clean up the current mess. Towels I had just finished washing and folding from the sink overflowing in the laundry room the week before. 

I proceeded to laugh and sob histerically at the moment, knowing very well my husband and kids were looking at me curious if I should be admitted. 

See here is,what I think, the reality of pregnancy brain. When you’re pregnant your braincells take a journey from your brain down to your womb and travel through the umbilical chord until they become an active part of your growing child’s brain. 

I mean think about it, your kids may look like you or act like your husband but then they get to the age of talking and one day they open their mouth and say something that makes you stop in your tracks. You have a moment where you think, how did they come up with that? I’m telling you they steal your brain cells. 

Some days, when I have a MOMent and my husband and kids look at me like I’m crazy I want to say “If I had all my brain cells this wouldn’t happen.” My house wouldn’t look like a crazy mess with the dryer open, the dishwasher half emptied and a water faucet or tub in the process of being cleaned or cleaning something or someone. 

So dad, kids, everyone else who doesn’t have kids. We aren’t crazy or in need of a mental evaluation. Sometimes we go to the grocery store in sweatpants, sports bras and messy buns. Sometimes we let our kids dress themselves and they look a little Disney princess meets redneck hunter. Sometimes we walk up to the register to check out only to remember we forgot to get what’s on the back of the list. Our houses are messy, our laundry overflowing along with our sinks but we aren’t crazy. Just missing a few brains cells and in need of a MOMent. 


Dying Breed

I’ve been a little MIA lately. Over the course of a couple weeks we went from my husband’s hours being cut at work, wondering how we were going to make it living in Louisiana to packing up our house and 3 kids to move to Texas for a new job. It’s been a whirlwind.

My husband actually moved up 2 weeks before the kids and I did and talk about madness. Me, 3 kids and packing to do. Talk about juggling act. We survived though and are all back together in Hill Country but that’s not really what this post is about.


About a week before we left Louisiana, I decided to brave the grocery store with three, very cranky kids. It was hard to get what I needed while juggling who wanted to be held and who was on the brink of a tantrum in the store. Needless to say my trip was cut short due to my frustration and the looks I got. Not only did I get looks, I got comments and questions.

“Are they all yours?”

“Did you plan to have that many?” 

“Those two of have to be twins.”

“You must drink a lot.”

or my all time favorite side remark that people don’t think I can hear….

“That’s why we aren’t having more kids funny”

I mean come on now. Are we serious people? When did this become a thing?

13582086_977429455705362_315073903965527646_oGrowing up I was 1 of 5 kids in my class that didn’t have a sibling and most of the kids in my class had 2-3 siblings. Families where typically made up for 4 or more. Now don’t get me wrong some people can only afford, or physically have only one kid I’m not knocking those people. I’m not even really complaining about the people who have kids. I’m simply just shocked about the fact that society has made having multiple kids such a strange and terrible thing. Isn’t it bad enough that we have to battle our own emotions and scrutiny, now we have to worry about being judged in public for our choices of how many kids we chose to have, how close in age they are or how we raise them.


So here’s a note to all you mom of multiples (and moms in general).


Sure, sometimes the kids run around in just diapers and eat lunch off a unswept floor. Most nights we go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink and clean laundry crashed out on the couch. Our Pinterest boards are filled with grand ideas that rarely come true and our uniforms are made up of sweat pants, t-shirts and pulled back hair. Life is crazy, messy and always smelly (excuse me I need to go change a diaper or two) but you’re kids are alive. What we see as failed art projects are some of their favorite memories. Laundry piles become like fall leaf piles made for jumping in or clean sheets become tents. Dirty dishes equal picnics on the floors and eating with their hands. Only you see your shortcomings. Your kid sees a mom who’s present. Forget those people who think or look at you like you’re crazy. You know where you were before you’re blessings and you know the cost, effort and love you putting into each one of those precious lives. They are the ones missing out. 6999125ecebd34c879ffa1bea5871081

After paying and loading up my groceries (and kids) into the car, this older lady stopped me in the parking lot.  With her kind eyes she looked at me with compassion and sheer joy.

“I had 9 kids by the time I was 35, doctors told me I would never be able to have one. When that first baby came I knew I wanted more. Such a precious gift to see brothers and sisters experience life together from toddlers to adulthood. It’s hard work but the blessings are worth it. I only wish more women would experience it. Be proud of yourself cause darling you’re a dying breed.”

I got in and started my car, some kid song came on the radio, my 10 month old fussed for a moment till he cooled down and the older 2 started singing as loud as they could and in that moment I didn’t feel guilt, frustration or exhaustion. I just felt refreshed.

Moms are a dying breed, good ones at least. So if you are a mom who’s tired, overwhelmed at the brink of an emotional break down. Be proud and realize if you feel that way, you’re doing something right.