“Someday, I’ll quit using dry shampoo. I’ll dye my hair regularly and take care of my nails. I’ll choose my clothing as a fashion statement instead of knotting my shirt over a stain. I’ll even read grown-up books instead of books about little monsters. But right now isn’t that ‘someday.’ And I’m okay with being mostly mommy.”
“No one is cleaning their house every day. No one is having sex every day. No one has it all together.”
“No one looks twice when a mom says she enjoys ‘mom juice,’ aka wine, after her kids are in bed. But when a mom says she smokes weed, it’s a huge shock. Marijuana has helped me so much, especially when it comes to being a mom. It’s my can of beer. It’s my relaxation time. You can still be a kick ass mom, and smoke weed.”
“Things came to a boiling point. I ran all the way back to my house, flew up the stairs, locked the door, and melted into tears, gasps. The police didn’t help. ‘He hasn’t hurt her yet. We can’t do anything.’ He hadn’t hurt me YET. Imagine my 10-year-old brain trying to process this. How could I feel safe? All of my innocence, comfort went out the window. Every morning, he gazed at me from my bus stop.”
“She was suffering. The nurse wanted to try another medication to help ease her pain. Our daughter had an immediate reaction and stopped breathing. My baby was dying in my living room. Matt was racing home from work. ‘Please never let her suffer this way ever again.’ My heart couldn’t handle watching my baby endure this. Her body was tired. She’s now an angel in heaven.”
“My gynecologists had never touched me anywhere except the obvious pink parts. This exam was different. I felt her palpate the right side of neck. She returned to that one spot 3 times. I was frantic. Then, I let go and let life happen.”
“We’ve gotten: ‘Why didn’t you adopt a black child when so many black children need good homes?’ ‘You stole that baby!’ ‘Why didn’t you let that baby stay with his kind?’ Not once in my mind or in my heart did I feel as if Princeton didn’t belong to me.”
“I was losing clumps of hair. I assumed it was stress because we just moved for my husband’s job. My doctor asked about my children. She was the first doctor who actually had a conversation with me. Then she dropped a bomb. ‘I’m prescribing you an anti depressant.’ I left the appointment bawling. ‘Who does she think she is!? She didn’t know everything I’ve been through!'”
“After an hour, the other moms packed up their girls to go over to ballet class. As the 3 other girls galloped around excitedly while their mothers located shoes, my daughter crawled into my lap. I clung to her with matching heartache. We weren’t just saying no to ballet for the day. We were saying goodbye to a childhood.”
“I came home from work, tired and weary. I crawled out of my car and shuffled past it. The open space where the mini fridge USED to be. ‘Did I get burglarized?’ Then, steam poured from my ears. ‘Teenagers!!!,’ I exclaimed. I balled my fists, losing my ever-loving mind. Oh, they know. Momma is ticked.”
