Mom Life

‘Yes, I have 2 kids. Yes, I smoke weed daily. Weed makes me a better mom.’: Mom says marijuana has helped her anxiety, ‘weed is my glass of wine’

“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.”

‘Two months before college graduation, my symptoms returned. The bloat, the blood, stomach pain, and fatigue.’: Young woman diagnosed with severe Ulcerative Colitis, ‘I felt I would never get my life back, now I embrace it all’

“‘Natalie. He died.’ I can still remember it like yesterday. Being woken up in my freshman year dorm from a call. All I remember next is screaming, ‘No, no, no, no, no!’ Dead. Died. Gone. As time went on, I started feeling sick. Very sick.”

‘I was scared she’d die. They said it’s ‘new mom jitters.’ I didn’t want to be the ‘depressed, baby-less mom’: Mother experiences postpartum depression, PTSD after first son born still, ‘I was hiding it well’

“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!'”

‘Mama, I take ballet too, remember?’ She buried her face in my chest crying, protesting.’: Mother feels grief leaving town she raised daughters in, ‘I became a mother in this city’

“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.”

‘Where is my fridge?’ I asked, annoyed. I tapped my foot, waiting. ‘What?’ My jugular started pounding.’: Mom hilariously recalls really ‘bad day’ with teenage daughter when she lost her temper

“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.”

‘You’d look like me, I was sure. Curly blonde hair, blue eyes, chubby cheeks. I was lucky.’: Mom pens emotional tribute to daughter she miscarried, ‘I needed to lose you to find me’

“I flushed with my eyes sealed shut. I cried more tears than I knew possible. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. What kind of mother flushes her baby? I hoped I was wrong. I hoped you were still there. But I knew. A mother always knows. Everyone kept apologizing. I didn’t know why because it wasn’t their fault. It was mine. I had one job, to protect you, and I couldn’t even do that.”

‘If you date a girl, you’re going to hell.’ I broke her heart the instant the words escaped my lips.’: 14-year-old takes in cousin’s daughter as her own, helps her through homosexuality, self-harm, ‘We were always meant to be a family’

“She caught me by surprise. ‘What would you do if I dated a girl?’ I immediately told her, ‘If you date a girl, you’re going to hell.’ The instant the words escaped my lips, something else hit me harder than the fear of my child in hell. I broke her heart. I never thought my child would be gay. I began noticing small cuts on her arms. I was losing her. I would have risked anything for her to find herself and be happy.”

‘I’m young. Doesn’t everyone drink?’ I chose to be homeless. On the streets, no one could hold me back.’ : Young woman gains back ‘self respect, dignity’ after overcoming alcoholism

“I traded a life of steady income and comfort for a life on the streets in order to support my addiction. I slept in homeless camps, under bridges, along railroad tracks, and in strangers’ houses. My sign, ‘Support my whiskey right for a frisky night,’ made more money than any other sign asking for help. I was living on the street, so no one cared. It came with the territory.”

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