"No offense,
I love Dad more."
~ My Daughter, Byrdie Mae, age 6
onfessions
of a first time
everyone at the King Soopers who watched in horror as I continued shopping while my 3 year old writhed in pain and agony because I wouldn't let her scale the shelf of jellies like Alex Honnold. i apologize, i figured not being buried alive in a rubble of spreadable fruit preserves was possibly a better choice, but i could be mistaken.
manager AT Café Procope who told me i had to either cover my daughter's head with a napkin or leave the restaurant because my breast feeding was making everyone else uncomfortable. that was not true, it was making you feel uncomfortable and perhaps you want to unpack that in your next therapy appointment.
woman who shamed me for calling my daughter's oral herpes, oral herpes rather than a cold sore because "what will people think?" I personally think that considering up to 80% of the human population does in fact have oral herpes, they legit will not have a thought. at all. other than offering up a home remedy that has worked for them in the past.
the whole internet. like, the entire thing. the place where grace, empathy, reflection, tolerance and most importantly, reality, go to die. i'm sorry i will never be able to live up to your standards because the truth is, it's humanly impossible. So I choose to continue to show up with transparency and vulnerability, humility and honesty so at least one other mother out there doesn't feel so alone.
old mom.
c
first flight. 5/21/2016
#hotmomvibes
1st holidays on the lake. 12/26/2023
#hottermomvibes
Motherhood—it's a wild, wonderful, and downright chaotic journey. From the moment those tiny humans enter your life, you quickly realize that all your carefully laid plans and expectations are about to take a backseat to the unpredictable rollercoaster of parenting.
I've learned that navigating this whirlwind requires one essential tool: a robust sense of humor. Because let's face it, kids are absolutely bonkers. They'll turn your living room into a makeshift jungle gym, transform broccoli into an archenemy, and unleash a torrent of questions that would stump even the most seasoned philosopher—all before breakfast.
But amidst the chaos, there's a beauty in the absurdity of it all. Embracing the madness with laughter becomes a survival tactic, a way to find joy in the messy, imperfect moments that make up the tapestry of parenthood. Whether it's chasing a giggling toddler around the house or trying to negotiate with a pint-sized dictator over bedtime, finding the humor in the madness helps keep me sane.
Because, let's be real, if you can't laugh when your kid decides to give the dog a bubble bath in the toilet or proudly presents you with a mud pie masterpiece they made in the backyard, you might just end up crying. And ain't nobody got time for that when there are adventures to be had and memories to be made with these little whirlwinds we call our children.
forgive me
*
I do not believe in work/life balance. It’s not just a myth, it's a legit dangerous expectation that sets working parents up for failure.
I laugh when my kid swears.
My partner and I are raising our 3 girls together and it’s imperfectly perfect.
I had 5 miscarriages prior to successfully carrying my daughter Byrdie to term. The fertility specialists were unclear as to why I kept losing pregnancies. A week before I was to undergo invasive treatment I reached out to the world via social media and shared my struggles. Privately, more than 2 dozen women shared similar stories and suggested I try taking Baby Aspirin upon a positive pregnancy test. She is now 8 years old and I truly believe I have the Internet to thank.
Blended families are hard.
Really hard.
That being said, they are totally worth it. I never imagined I would have more kids and now I have THREE girls!
I am the product of a blended family, my Pops and brothers came into my life when I was just 3 years old and have realized that if it was not for them I would never be the person I am today. While there are parts of me that are reflections of my mother and father, I am 100% my Pop's daughter. And very proud of that.
I hope that just a tiny part of me imprints on Mitch's girls as they grow, so that I am with them always after I pass.
I nursed my daughter for 2 years straight. Every day, all day. My breasts now rest comfortably on my lap when I sit down.
Sometimes I hide in the bathroom to have a little afternoon cry.
I don’t really care if my kids reach grade level in math, score in the 90th percentile on standardized tests or go to University after Highschool as long as they are kind, good humans.
I began volunteering when I was 15 and have continued to give back to my global community ever since. When Byrdie was born, I started a tradition that we do not open gifts on Christmas morning until we deliver care packages to local our unhoused population. She has never resisted this or questions it, it's just what we do. We now have continued this practice with our blended family. The kids are a part of the entire process from selecting what to include in our bags, purchasing and filling them and it is a highlight for us all on the morning of December 25th.
As a single person I declared I would never have a picky eater and that parents who had picky eaters were to blame. Byrdie Mae eats a total of 10 things: Chicken fingers, pizza, Pho, buttered noodles, plain burgers without buns, fries, dry uncut hotdogs, Ramen Noodle broth, whole artichokes and green olives. Me. I am to blame.
I suffered from severe Hyperemesis Gravidarum the first 23 weeks of pregnancy. I could only eat watermelon, barfed 6-10 times a day and lost 24 lbs my first trimester. I was the equivalent of a hungover college freshman after rush weekend at the University of Alabama. To this day I cannot watch the show Chopped because it’s all I consumed for 5 months and now triggers nausea instantly.
My daughter went to her very first concert at 5 weeks old, to see my good friend Chris Pureka. 6 years later we saw her favorite singer Lizzo perform in Denver from the very first row, against the stage, on Halloween night.
“You are definitely the least loved member of our family.”
~Byrdie Mae, age 7
(In reference to our dog Ozzil’s love for us.)
I didn’t need to wear a bra until I was 23 years old. The first month after giving birth my breasts weighed 4lbs each. We weighed them. On a kitchen baking scale.
“Mom. You will ALWAYS be in my heart. Even when you’re dead.”
Byrdie Mae, age 4
The first 2 years of Byrdie’s life I was on the road 265 days a years for work. She’s visited over 23 countries and will remember pretty much nothing. While she remembers next to nothing, both her Dad and I made sure to photograph all the time so she will have evidence of this super unique childhood.
While she never had a strict bed time, predictable environment or even a structured schedule. . . this does not mean she consistency. She spent every day and every night with me, her dad, and "the pocket." Much like a kangaroo's pouch, the pocket served as a place of safety. It was how she traveled the world, explored new cultures and fell asleep for naps and a full 8 hours of sleep. We carried Byrdie in a pocket for almost 4 years and while I counted down the days until it was no longer a necessity, the truth is I miss it as much as she does.
Me: I'm just an old mom now.
Mitch: No you aren't.
Me: Honey, I love you. I'm going through menopause. No one hits on me anymore. No one even LOOKS at me any more. It's ok, it's just obvious that those days are over. And I think it's part of the transition.
Eva (the 11 year old): That's not true. Dad looks at you ALL the time. Granted, sometimes it's a bit of a crazy type of look, but I think it's the thought that counts.
Me: ☠️😂☠️😂☠️😂☠️😂☠️😂☠️😂☠️
My daughter is my favorite thing and I am constantly questioning just how many years of therapy I am securing for her future.
"You don't look a day over 29.
Except for all of your wrinkles."
~Olive, age 6
My kid is addicted to my boobs. Pretty sure she’ll have one hand brushing her hair and the other down my shirt while getting ready for her Highschool senior prom in 2034.
I took my kid to meet Santa for the first time on a Wednesday afternoon at Pro Bass Shop in December of 2016. She was terrified. To this day while she LOVES the idea of Santa coming and filling stockings, she refuses to interact with a Santa in real life. She thinks he is super creepy. I don't blame her. If we think about it, this is an older man who lures children to sit on his lap by way of candy and presents. We legit teach our children to RUN if an adult does this. . . except Ole' Kris Kringle.
I’m terrified of two things at the same time:
1. Dying before my daughter will remember me and our relationship.
2. My daughter dying before me and never being about to forget about her or our relationship.
While one could potentially describe our first 8 years as a fairly tumultuous relationship, I married THE BEST ex husband. Byrdie’s dad and I separated when our kid was 5 years old and it was the very best decision we ever made for all of us. We now love each other the way we were meant to, as good friends who made the best kid ever. And even better, rather than approaching the divorce as a tragic end we eventually learned to embrace it as a beautiful expansion of family. I could not ever ask for a more ideal bonus mom for Byrdie than Greg's partner Jenna and Mitch has been a fully accepted addition as Byrdie's bonus dad. I could not be more grateful.
I chose to co-sleep. One time my daughter fell out of the bed, next to me, while I was wearing a “BEST MOM EVER” T-shirt.
#100%truestory #theironyisnotlost
I am an Enneagram 7, the Enthusiast. 7s are known for seeking out "Once In A Lifetime" experiences. They are the gatherers, the connectors. While there are challenges to being a 7, I embrace my orientation to seek out adventure and believe that this has nothing but a positive impact on Byrdie. As a result of having a thrill seeking mom my 8 year old has gone dog sledding in both Colorado and Alaska, traveled to the top of a glacier by way of helicopter, gone swimming with stingrays, spent time with Orcas in a 10 person Zodiac, hand-fed giraffes, danced danced with strangers at 11pm in a small cafe in Barcelona while her parents ate dinner and spent her first birthday in Buenos Aires. Maybe most awe-inspiring was being surrounded by a super rare, 100+ humpback whale super pod in the middle of the ocean on a 20ft fishing boat.
My daughter has had only 1 birthday party in her life because of my travel schedule. In fact, on her first birthday in Buenos Aires, the hotel manager was so sad that we were not having a party or dessert to celebrate she went home a baked Byrdie a birthday cake.
However, due to never really having a party she prefers YES days to honor another year of life which in my opinion is such a better option.
Byrdie: Look Mom! We’re both wearing Jewish hats.
Me: ☠️☠️☠️
(Proceeds to locate the bra these kippahs were removed from.)
My partner, Mitch, owns a recreation tree climbing company TREE CLIMBING COLORADO. In Boulder, once a year in July hundreds of employees ditch their cars, bikes and feet, grab a tube, hop in the river and float to work. In 2023 Mitch decided to hang in the middle of the water and throw donuts to the tubers floating by to promote his company.
The kids and I were on the side watching and cheering him on as he prepared for him role os Fairy Donut Dad. Below is an ACTUAL conversation.
Eva: Ahhhhh! I am so worried.
(as we watch she grabs my arm as tight as her grip will allow)
Me: It's ok. I promise, your Dad knows exactly what he's doing. He's totally safe.
Eva: I'm not worried about Dad, I'm worried about the donuts.
Being a mom was not my "life's purpose" coming into adulthood. I waited a really long time to even think about becoming a parent, I prioritized career above everything including romantic relationships. It was a pretty big adjustment to even accept that I was grown up enough to become a parent and still question it regularly. Every day I worry that I am not a good mother. Every day I criticize myself and how I show up. Every day I make a vow to do better and every following day I disappoint myself, whether or not it's justified. The thing that brings me back to center, however, is that every day I fall more and more in love with my daughter and am so grateful I made the choice to fight for her to be here. With me. To share with the world.
Since Byrdie's birth, the family has experienced a significant amount of loss including 2 pets, her godmother, her great grandmother and my Pops. I have not shielded her from death and in fact included her as much as I can in the process. I believe in nurturing a healthy relationship with the cycle of life and not to fear it or avoid it but rather ask a lot of questions and be witness to crossing over.
When Byrdie was 15 months old, in our very small bathroom, I was attempting to parent and poop at the same time. While I was unable to stand due to circumstances, my daughter managed to reach over the bathtub facet and open my $35 bottle of shampoo I snagged at 50% off via some Instagram sale, squeezing it all over the floor. As I leapt to my feet, pants wrapped around my ankles, the door flew open and my 90 lb golden retriever entered the scene. I grabbed the half dry towel slung over the curtain rod and began feverishly spreading the shampoo across the tiles, left to right. It took all of 7.3 seconds before I heard, “Yummmmmy.” I turned around to find my child clutching my own human feces in her hands offering it to the dog as an afternoon snack.
My partner Mitch and I met 2+ years ago the old fashioned way.
On the Internet.
Ironically, so did my ex Greg and his partner Jenna. Same app, same happy ending.
"HINGE the app designed to be deleted."
#successstory
Despite my degree in child psychology, my background in elementary education and 20 years photographing families. . . I still feel like I have no idea what I am doing.
Before giving birth I swore my daughter were not use a single electronic device until she was at least 10. I believe she knew how to navigate my iPhone to find Netflix by the time she was 57 weeks old.
"Kirsteney!!!
You are sooooooo beautiful. . . . .
You look nothing like yourself."
~Olive, age 6
