I’d like to say before I had kids I was “normal”. I went to work. I wore cute clothes. I ate at restaurants. I went out with friends. I was a pretty typical almost 30 year old. And then I had my first son. He came flying out in the car on the way to the birth center. In the
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Becoming a mom changes – well – EVERYTHING. Keeping your individual sense of fashion while juggling all the responsibilities of motherhood can seem impossible, especially when you find yourself covered in spit-up stains most days. But keeping your sense of individuality and feeling good in your skin is important to maintaining good mental health! Here are some easy tips for
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And Why Your Self-Image Matters in Motherhood Almost all women have experienced some level of struggle with their self-image. In fact, 69-84% of women in the US exhibit body dissatisfaction. And it’s easy to understand why women may struggle with self-esteem when we live in a world of photo-shopped bodies and air-brushed faces. The line between a slight filter
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I pulled the fitting room curtain shut and removed my dress from the plastic covering it’d been hiding under for the last few months, waiting to be altered. I was six months post-partum and just weeks away from serving as a bridesmaid in the wedding of two dear friends—the first “real” event I’d be going to after having our son.
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The words slipped out of my mouth before I had a chance to think about what I was saying. My son and I had just walked in the door after an early pick-up from school due to him puking all over his shoes during center time. Since we both had vomit on our clothes in some capacity—him from doing the
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In one of the final sessions of our childbirth class, the teacher walked us soon-to-be-mamas and our partners through putting together our birth plans. Most of us ended up in the class because we hoped to experience birth with minimal medical interventions. With that in mind, she encouraged us to come up with a few affirmations to comfort our fears
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Picture it. My bedroom, 2009. Early morning sunshine streams through the window, casting an angelic glow over my son as he toddles into the room just as I slip my arms into a button-up shirt. He tilts his rosy-cheeked, cherubic face to the side and peers at me with twinkling blue eyes. “Nose.” I stop buttoning my shirt and look
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