Magazine Mom is a term my next door neighbor, Kenny, coined for me. I honestly didn’t exactly know what he meant by calling me that. I wasn’t even really sure it was complimentary, but I assumed so. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be as perfect as things are in a magazine? I finally the other day asked him to define it. His response, ” You are like those moms in the magazines that you see. Plus you shop out of them (I guess he is referring to my Pottery Barn, Restoration Hardware Baby & Child, Crate & Barrel-esque home), and you would want to be in one (a magazine) if they would let you (I would). You also change your house around from month to month (true)”. In other words, he thinks, myself and my home are fabulous, obviously! Really, I am not. Just like every other mom, I am anything but perfect. What I am, is real. Once I became a mom, I realized this quality I possess to be helpful to other mother’s and potential ones. I say it like it is, and I feel like there are too many out there that don’t. Usually these types of people are very pleasant to be around, they are the positive ones at the pity parties, the ones who make everything look easy, and never raise their voice. You know who you are. Trust me, your probably my best friend, if we know each other.  However, everyone needs that one friend, who says it EXACTLY how it is. Like, “my day f’ing sucks” and my recent favorite “I am looking for the nearest fire station to drop off my baby”, “having two kids is REALLY hard”, “No, that’s not a good idea”, “Btw, after you have kids, you grow wiskers in the weirdest places (mine under my chin, my mom’s is in the middle of her neck)”. You know, that type of thing. I don’t find my self to be rude, just real. My husband, disagrees. He thinks I abuse it. I use this term for flatulents, and a whole assortment of taboo behaviors. I simply say, “I’m a realist”… works for me.

Anywho, all this being said, it is my intent with this blog, to help other struggling mothers learn things like kids throw crazy tantrums, not just throwing toys or banging the floor, but full fledge demonistic tantrums, some days you might say in your head, or out-loud like I do, that you “hate your life”, and it is okay. You are not alone. However, you can find a way to make it work, like me, one way or another. No matter how chaotic my day, I still have make-up on and look the part (my husband might disagree), put dinner on the table (even if it is Kraft Mac-n-cheese and fried hotdogs…a true culinary treat), find ways to fuel my addiction to constant redecorating (this is where thrifting, and DYI-ing come into play) and having to buy something everyday, laugh with my kids, and hopefully, have an adult conversation with my husband, talk to a “bestie” (my dearest friends), and keep the house in magazine shape.

I hope you likey!


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