Honesty is the best policy—unless you’re trying to comfort yourself amidst the madness of back-to-school. Moms are the worst offenders because we’ll assure ourselves of pretty much anything in order to check something off of our To Do Lists. We are the planet’s biggest optimists until the first day of school is actually happening, because […]
I’m a typical mom, which means that I generally look like I’ve been run over by a semi when I get up in the morning. I make a feeble attempt to pull my shit together before leaving the house, but by the time our bedtime routine rolls around 14 hours later, I look like fresh […]
No filters, no excuses, no judgement.
My flaws are prettier than something designed to hide them.
No, I don’t have a bun in the oven. I have a well-deserved mom belly.
And yes, I say this even with bright blue varicose veins and dimples on my legs.
My struggle with anorexia was long and draining and not something I ever want my 9-year-old daughter to endure.
When my son asked me why my belly was “dripping over my underpants when I bent over,” I was too tired to respond, but I did. I had to.
My highest weight was 139 pounds — when I was 9-months-pregnant. I still see myself as fat.
I alone have kept the shapewear manufacturers in business, but not anymore.
Before having kids, I was slightly weight obsessed. I counted calories and I was a gym rat. Not now.
Anne, Blake, and other celebs can’t possibly relate to what “normal” new moms deal with.
