#badassmom thoughts

Ain’t No Mama Like the One I Got

In honor of Mothers Day, I want to share just a wee bit about my mom. I have mentioned her in some of my previous posts, and will continue to mention and highlight her for as long as I walk this earth. She is the OG Mama Dee, and there just ain’t no mama like the one I got.

She is a freaking ray of sunshine that brings laughter, realness and hope to any room she enters. She exudes confidence and has really pretty pink hair.

My mom is my best friend in this whole wide world. No one else comes close to comparing to her level of commitment, dedication and support she has offered to me in this life.

It wasn’t always easy, I was a terror of a daughter- I tried so hard to push my family away. I did what I wanted, when I wanted. I held on tight to the idea I was right, and no one could tell me differently. My Mom never gave up. She never pushed me out the door. She let me fail. She loved me and showed up for me and never, ever shamed me or gave up on me.

My Mom is one of those #badassmoms. She taught me to be a leader. To be unapologetically me- to not conform or give in to shitty opinions and ideas, she ALWAYS encouraged me to find my own path. At times finding my own way has been difficult, lonely and uncomfortable. My Mom has always been by my side. Even when I fuck up, she’s here, ready to lift me up and try again. Ready to hold my hand and show me how adulting is done. Ready to care for my children when I need help. Ready to listen when I finally open up. She’s always here.

My Mom taught me a lot of things. Ever since I can remember my Mom has been the biggest Cleveland Browns fan I’ve ever met. Her loyalty to the team was somewhat concerning. My whole life I knew from September- December not to ask for shit on Sundays because she was usually in a bad mood due to a Browns loss. It never, ever stopped her from looking forward to the game, getting us all dressed in Browns gear and making a bunch of good football food. And they would lose. Year after year it happened. She taught me about loyalty. We don’t give up hope just because they’re losing.

Every week.

She taught me we love them for them- the bad, the unorganized, the comical, the sometimes surprisingly good. My Moms love is unconditional. I always knew her love for Cleveland football was unconditional, and as I came to realize her faithfulness stretches across the board.

My Mom is loyal AF. Like road dawgs, ride or die she is in it til the wheels fall off and roll away. She has been married to my Dad for 27 years. The shit I’ve seen them go though (put them through) are things I, myself cannot imagine experiencing as a parent. My brother and I have experienced some pretty tough events, and my Mom (and Dad) were there through it all. They always show up.

My Mom not only shows up for me- but her friends. Her love for her people is something I admire, she has so many strong women in her life that support her, that share with her and love her as much as she loves them.

When I told my Mom I was pregnant, I was single at the age of 19. I lived with my parents still, and lived a carefree lifestyle, I was not exactly ready for a baby. Her response was “I’m too young to be a grandma.” I smile when I think about the conversation, because I can picture it perfectly, although it was 8 years ago.

This is the shit she used to dress us in.

We were in my old room. I wish I had a picture, but I’ll briefly describe it for you. It was about 11′ x12′. There was old wood paneling that had been painted over. Each panel was a different bright color. The ceiling had tile on it, and each tile was a different color.

Walking into my old room would give anyone anxiety, it felt like walking into a circus tent. There were “plants” drawn on the walls and at one point I drew the Cleveland skyline with dollar signs raining down in the sky. It was absolutely nuts. But that’s the point. My Mom let me express myself no matter how completely ridiculous I was. She wanted me to find my own path.

Back to her being a Grandma. I lived with my parents at the time. My cat (RIP Action MF Jackson ILYSM) was my best friend. My Mom was there for me, and came to every doctor appointment I asked her to. She was there when I got the news I was having a boy- we cried tears of joy together that I was not going to have a miniature female version of myself. My parents remodeled their house so that I could be comfortable with my new baby. They ripped out that wood paneling and she gave me an adult room, and a nursery for their new grandson.

My Mom was the one standing next to me, holding my hand as I brought my baby into this world. The word Grandma was a bit harsh for her, as she was (is) still a young, hot, 40something year old. We went with Bia. As in BIA BIAAAAAA. Yes, the Lil John song. Whatever, hate on it or don’t. But my Bia rocks. She is the fucking sun in my life.

I have seen her work through her own troubles, heartaches and come out on the other side stronger, wiser and more beautiful than ever before.

A couple years ago, my Mom and I went skydiving. She gets queasy standing on the second story of a balcony, but this B jumped out of a plane at 9,000 feet. We did it together, I was super hyped and into it, she was like really scared and second guessing herself. But she did it. We did it. She’s such a badass I can’t say it enough.

When I think of strong women- I think my mom. When I think of bad bitches- I think my Mom. When I think of cool sock collections- I think of my Mom. When I think of unconditional love- I think of my Mom. When I think of orange converse- I think my mom.

She is what I aspire to be as a mother. Loyal, loving and hopeful. If I can show up for, and support my kids the way my Mom has, and continues to do for me- I have no doubt I will be one of those #badassmoms like her. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Not only on the inside, but the outside too. I look just like her and people often mistake us for sisters. She is so pretty and I look JUST like her 🙂

Sometimes I hear other people talk about their Moms, and I feel so blessed that My Mom is mine. And she’s my best friend. And shes the best Bia ever. And shes cool AF. And shes probably crying reading this.

I love my Mom more than I can type in this post, but I wanted to share with the whole internet world just how much she means to me, and how grateful I am that I have the Mom of the Year.

She used to joke when she made a mistake saying, “I guess there goes my Mom of the year award.” which is funny, because she fucked up a lot. I get my potty mouth from my Mom. I get my stubbornness from my Mom. I get my perpetual lateness from my Mom. I am super sassy because of my Mom. But she also gave me some really positive things.

She fucked up giving us these haircuts.

I get my sense of humor from my Mom. I get my IDGAF attitude from my Mom. I get my love of thrifting and style from my Mom. I got this good hair from my Mom. Most of all- I have an internal feeling of hope, from my Mom.

I have watched this woman for the last 27 years overcome everything and come out stronger, smarter and more willing to follow the paths the Universe lays out for her. She is a freakin superhero and this year I give her the highly sought after Mother of the Year Award.


Mothers Day Gifts: the sh*t she really wants

I have compiled a list of mothers day gifts for those of us lucky enough to have our mothers around. My mom is one of those super bad ass moms that not only birthed me, raised me and loved me- she continues to be my number one fan in life. She supports me and my family more than I can even describe into words.

As a mother myself, I approve every single one of these Mothers Day gifts. LOOKING AT YOU, FAMILY. While I appreciate the pinky ring my son purchased for me, (still sporting the $1 price tag,) it does not actually fit on my pudgy finger. I love it and keep it in safe keeping, and will cherish it for the next 50 years. So now that I have such a heartfelt trinket, as your mother also probably does- heres the shit moms really want.

The sh*t we really want

Subscription box

We’re not talking jam of the month. Im saying wine of the month for the lady who likes to throw them back. Try IPSY for make-up lovers, or Fab Fit Fun for moms who love a little bit of everything. I reviewed the IPSY GLAM BAG for April 2019- see it here. They even have snack subscriptions for people with dietary restrictions. Is she KETO AF? Try Keto Crate. Is she gluten free? Try Urthbox.

Why celebrate Mom the for one day when you can celebrate her one day every month? Bring a smile to her pretty face each month when she opens the mailbox and receives a gift. I did this for my parents a few years ago when my parents were newly on the keto diet with a keto crate. They were sent snacks to try every month and they appreciated the unconventional gift idea. I think this would make a great Mothers Day gift.

Car detailing

If your moms anything like mine she has empty DP bottles floating around in her car. There’s also probably mud and old fruit snacks from my kids. Since you can’t afford to call XHIBIT and PIMP THAT RIDE, a certificate for a detailing will probably do. Groupon typically has some great deals, as well as people in your community with a small business. Strapped for cash? Just be child of the year and get out there and do that shit for her!

Write a poem

Its super cheezy and you’re gonna feel lame doing it, but i promise your mom is gonna cry. Not the kind of cry like she did the first (or second) time you got arrested, but like the time she realized she raised a thoughtful and (semi) responsible adult.

If you’re not so good with words, try a handmade card. I recently purchased a Cricut and had high hopes of making beautiful cards for Mothers Day. Once out of my manic state, I realized fancy cutting machines are not for me, so I returned it to get my $250 back. I then spent $7 on card stock and pretty stickers. My mom likes innappropriate humor so I’m gonna make something funny. She’s gonna love it.

Shutterfly photo gifts

Try a puzzle with a picture of something cool, plaques, mugs the super basic stuff. I make my mom puzzles every year with cool scenery photos from something special that year. Last year she went on an anniversary trip with my dad and had a bunch of beautiful sunset photos from Punta Cana. I went through Shutterfly and made a puzzle that ended up being extremely difficult to put together. My mom loved it, and we got to spend 7 hours working on it together.

Amazon Prime subscription

If she still runs to the store for batteries or paper towels this is what you get her. Let me tell you, as a mother of 3 boys, I am always running out of necessities, and our Amazon Prime membership is something that we value in our home. Did you know? You can even add accounts onto your prime, it may be worth investigating if you know she’s always strapped for time. Give her the gift of time with prime. See what I did there?

Your time

Speaking of time- how about some of yours. Your mom loves you. And she misses you. And she wants to spend time with you. Whether this is tickets to a comedy show or a play she has always wanted to see, or a pottery or calligraphy class, make it a date type thing. Go grab coffee or dinner and just be present. Check Groupon or your local church or community center. They’re always offering classes to check out, and they can be fairly inexpensive. My mom and I love to go thrifting, we can spend hours looking for scores. Hang out with your mom for a day and I bet she smiles.

Spa day

The only thing mom loves more than spending time with you- is spending time alone. This mostly applies to those of us who are constantly wiping butts and don’t get out much. I love my kids so much, and I think I am a better mother when I miss them just a wee bit. A trip to the salon, or a massage can be that self care time we need to feel refreshed.

As a hairstylist myself, I can confidently say that your Mom loves going to get pampered. To come into a salon, and not have to care for anyone other than herself is such a treat. The woman in your life deserves this time to herself. A relaxation massage, a moisturizing pedicure, or haircolor to brighten up her look. These services are geared at making women feel f*cking fabulous.

Clean house

The number one thing moms want: a clean house. Whether you pay a company to do this or cut out little coupons like you did when you were 7. this. is. the. gift. OKUURRRT

bad ass mothers day gift ideas

I hope you got some good ideas for Mothers Day gifts this year. It really is the shit we want (still looking at you, family.) Do you do Mothers Day gifts for your mom? Do you do them for your wife? Share below in the comments what you’re planning on this year.


Where I’ve been. To blog or not to blog.

I haven’t posted in a while, I’m not sure why. Lack of inspiration? Fear of judgement? Chaotic days that roll in to each other and no motivation to do anything more. Maybe I’m just batshit crazy and start a bunch of things never to follow through with them.

A few people have asked me if I’m still doing this, the answer is yes, I actually discovered writing is a fun creative outlet for me, yet the time and motivation does not come as easily.

It’s been a long two months, full of pee and vomit, a trip to Vegas, ending my breastfeeding journey, my work as a hairstylist has been busier than ever before, my baby started crawling and has 2 teeth, and the death of someone who has impacted my life more than he ever knew.

Opinions are annoying- but I want you to read mine.

Organizing my thoughts is sometimes a difficult task, as I am perplexed as to how I actually feel most of the time. I’m extremely indecisive when it comes to forming my own opinions, and I realized that that’s basically what blogging is- forming opinions and sharing them with the whole world wide web in text form. Opinions are like assholes, and yes, we all have them, and most of them stink.

There are days I feel like I’ve really got it going on- like yesterday. I joined the IPSY makeup subscription and received my first glam bag, full of fun new makeup that I most likely would not have purchased myself. As I was getting ready for work, I used each of the 5 things they sent me. As I finished my makeup I realized I hadn’t put a whole face on in quite sometime- and I felt pretty. I even busted out my giant hoop earrings because I just DGAF.

Kevin noticed me coming out of the bathroom, looking all fly and shizz and mentioned how I must be feeling myself because I had makeup on and my fancy unnecessarily large hoops in.

These are going to be referred to as “the pee days”

I feel like the past 2 months have dragged on, and I’ve just been barely getting by. My laundry mountain has peaked several times, I’ve been in this disgusting cycle of cleaning piss, shit, vomit, more piss, cracked raw eggs on my carpet (4 times!), more piss, more shit, more fucking vomit. These days are hard, and I’m just going to refer to them as the “pee days.” I know this is just a “season,” it won’t always be this hard, or smell this bad, and I won’t always second guess every decision I make regarding my discipline style, or lack there of.

I clean just to have to clean again. I scrub the bathroom floor just to have my kid miss the toilet and have to do it over again. I say no milk in the car just to give my kid milk in the car and him pour it all over the window. I’m fighting a constant battle that I feel I’m slowly losing.

My 2 year old discovered a new hobby- throwing raw eggs on the carpet. That was fun. He did it 4 times in 1 week. Then when he was in time out he would stare me in the eyes while peeing on the time out rug. Super fun. I’m guessing he is an alpha, confident in his behavior, basically fearless, and trying to figure out his place in the world. But it also causes me extreme frustration. I’m not gonna “beat that ass” because I’m just not fucking going to, and I don’t think it’s beneficial. I don’t want my kid to be afraid of me- I am his mom and his protector, here to nurture and love and guide him through life. I feel like I’m constantly searching for a discipline method that works for us, and respects our values. I will say we have not had an egg-cident (see what I did there) in a week and a half so that’s good.


We have started doing this funny thing while my kids are whining about how they like Cinnamon Toast Crunch better than the generic Aldi version where I yell back “Gabagoool” or “Shmargendardon” or some other random nonsense. My fiance and I think this is funny and it provides comic relief to the ridiculous complaining and screaming.

This parenting thing is hard, this relationship thing is hard, this friendship thing is hard. All of this adulting that we do is really fucking hard. I know everyone is out here, trying their best, all of us just became grown ups one day. I can’t believe I wanted to grow up so bad, and now my 7 year old is constantly telling me how he wants to be a grown-up and I’m so sad for him. He has no clue the freedom he has being a child. To him it feels like he has none- can’t walk to the park alone, can’t watch tv all night, can’t have a cell phone. I remember those days, and the absolute terror that I was to my parents, and I reflect on that trying to develop my own parenting strategies.

Being a mom in todays technologically advanced world, scared my kid is gonna get abducted, hit by a car or bullied is tough. I want my kids to enjoy childhood and actually enjoy being a child. When I was 13 I wanted nothing more than to be an adult, I wanted to do things grown ups did, and I did just that, I started acting like a grown-up, without all of the responsibility that adults actually had.

I’m now 27 and have 3 kids, I’m forever engaged to someone I love so dearly, but am constantly complaining to him because I’m not where I wanna be in life. I want to plan a wedding but it seems too hard. I want to buy a house, our house is small and we rent and it’s frustrating to feel so close to buying, but so fucking far away– we’re almost financially ready, we have built our credit over the last 3 years, we’re adulting in a lot of adultish areas, and trying to make decisions that benefit our family. I work on the east side and my family is here, he works on the west side and his family is there. The school districts in the middle either suck, or the area is too expensive for us currently. These stressors are something I didn’t even know about until I got to this stage of life.

I imagine that’s how the rest of my adulthood is going to go- not knowing how hard it is until we get there.

How do you make time for your relationship when your partner works 80 hours a week, and your kids pee everywhere, and you’re wiping butts all day long, and then when he gets home- dinner was 4 hours ago and the kids have been screaming all day and you didn’t even change out of your pajamas? Asking for a friend.

Really though, I am asking for myself, because this shit is hard, and the last couple months have been challenging in just about every area of my life. I want to take me time, I want to take time to care for myself- ya know, shower, laundry, quiet time for reflection. I know, these struggles are super tiny in the eyes of big problems- war, death, family tragedies, but in the moment when we are experiencing it- they feel big, and that’s why I am sharing. Mostly because I don’t talk to a lot of people, I am introverted to the extreme and don’t feel comfortable reaching out most days, I typically go at it alone because it’s what I’ve always been comfortable with.

My fiances best friend passed away unexpectedly a couple weeks ago- it was devastating. This man was charismatic and charming, and loved his friends so much. He was there for my fiance when he needed it most, and left an impact on the way he carried himself, and for that I am so, so grateful. When he died, I have never ever seen my fiance so sad, he was heartbroken and I didn’t know how to comfort him. I’ve never lost a close friend, I can’t pretend I know how it feels. A few of my friends reached out to me, and I am so thankful- they care about my family, and they care about me.

It is pretty obvious to me that my fiances friends care about him- his phone is always ringing, group texts, whatever. He’s had a lot of the same friends for over 10 years, he’s social and charming and really intelligent. He’s good at being a friend. He cares and is always willing to help people when they need it. It’s part of the reason I was so attracted to him. To witness him grieving is heartbreaking. I know it hurts. I know he has so much on his plate, and to top it all off he deals with me and my irrational outbursts or crying, screaming and being a nutcase.


I don’t want to be the way that I am, I joke with him that if he thinks I’m annoying, he should just be happy he’s not stuck in my head. But it’s really not a joke, there’s so much crap I filter through, unsure of what to say, what to do, how to feel, how to act- I get it all jumbled up and sometimes melt down. I think that’s what I noticed when I was actively writing- it took a bit of that away.

I’m gonna keep blogging, sometimes about dumb stuff like how I save money, because I get really excited about saving a few bucks on things I was already planning on buying ( I am my fathers daughter,) or thrifting (I am my mothers daughter) and maybe more “dear diary” posts like this one- because it feels good to get my thoughts out, and put them somewhere.

I’m gonna continue this adult journey with as much patience as I can possibly muster up. It’s not coming easy, and a lot of days I feel like I am failing. I don’t want to live life by “just getting by,” I want the things I do to serve a purpose, and produce positive results, I don’t want to second guess every fucking thing I do because of fear. I don’t want to constantly yell at my kids because they’re just being kids. I want to share love and live with passion. I want to be grateful, and be subconsciously aware that these are the “good old days” and while they’re hard (and covered in piss) they’re also really sweet and my kids are the cutest and they are loved so, so much.

So I guess I’ll just keep climbing Mt. Laundrypile and buying vinegar in bulk to keep funk at bay. I’ll do my best to remain calm, and continue to hug my kids and smell their hair. I’ll let my partner know I love him and appreciate him, even when he leaves dirty socks on the floor. I’ll make a point to get my kids outside each day as the weather is warming up, and I’ll continue schooling them in hide-and-seek. I’m gonna let my friends and family know I love them, because we really never know what the future holds- and what the fuck is actually holding me back from expressing appreciation to those that are always there no matter what?

There is hope in the Spring

The sunset gets prettier, the air feels better, and gratitude seems easier to come by. I will do my best to live in this mindset more often. Things aren’t as bad as they feel, and I truly believe there is always hope.

And as always, I’m gonna continue being weird and unapologetically me– for there is no one else I’d rather be. (except maybe Beyonce before she married Jay-Z.)

What’s been up with you dudes?

Do you have any tips on adulting that I can benefit from? Or any tips how to get raw egg or vomit stains out of carpet? Or how about keeping giant carpenter ants out of your house?

Seriously, leave me a comment and share with me your best adulting advice!


Pregnancy and Labor: epidurals, an induction, and delivering my own baby in the car.

Yes, I have a baby that I pushed right out on the front seat of my dads pickup truck. My advice, LISTEN TO YOUR BODY, WOMAN!

Babies. I love babies. I am convinced that my Facebook knows this and is constantly popping up birthing videos on my feed. I have zero self control and always go down a rabbit hole of beautiful, intimate birth moments. I can literally feel my body rejecting my IUD as I watch.

The moment a baby is born is the most beautiful moment I have ever had the opportunity to experience, and I’ve been lucky enough to have 3, all different and beautiful in their own way. People are always amused when they hear I delivered my own baby in a car.

My first pregnancy was unplanned and scary. I was 19 and single. I was a wild girl with a couple boyfriends and no real responsibility. When I found out I was pregnant, I was terrified. I had never even held a baby let alone loved anyone other than myself.

My pregnancy was lonely, my best friend was my cat, Action MF Jackson (RIP I love you so much.) I spent most of my time in bed watching The Office and conspiracy documentaries while eating gigantic bowls of cereal.

My mom was my best support, loving me and going to appointments with me, excited for the birth of her first grandson (even though she was too young to be a grandma.) We cried tears of joy together at the 20 week anatomy scan when we found out I was having a boy. Thank you God I will not have to deal with a teenage daughter like myself. Yet, my whole pregnancy I had a hard time connecting with my unborn baby, it didn’t feel real, I felt like there was an alien in there rolling around, making my mind crazy. I felt like I shouldn’t feel that way, I was supposed to already love this tiny baby I didn’t even know, it made me feel bad that it was not natural for me.

I went into labor two weeks early. My first epidural experience was fine, nothing bad happened but it didn’t exactly work. It eased the pain for about an hour until it was time to push.

There was a moment about an hour into pushing where I wanted to give up, it was too hard and hurt too much. It was a little late for that. Before my last push I reached down and felt his hair, his tiny body still inside mine, holyfuckingshit he is a real baby, its a real little person with a real human head (a very furry one.) I grew a baby and I pushed him out. In one moment I fell in love. That was 7 years ago and I still remember the day and the way the room was dim, the sound my baby made when he immediately started sucking on his fingers. The feeling of hope and love and a bit of fear I had that day.

Pregnancy number two came 4 years later, you could say I was living my #bestlife having fallen in love with a man who loved me and my son, we had our own place, we went on adventures and traveled around the country on frequent vacations (ehhh selling tshirts on phish tour.) Our life felt perfect, and I loved my son, I loved my boyfriend and I really loved our life. I concieved my second baby about an hour before a Dead & Co. show, probably TMI but I don’t really care. I think its cool to know that as my fertilized egg started to split and divide and grow I was there with John Mayer singing ‘brown-eyed women’ while I danced with the love of my life.

When I read the positive result I was overcome with fear, my 4 year old son was so perfect that I truly felt I could never love anyone as much as I loved him. I told my boyfriend over the phone, I broke down in tears and didn’t know how to feel. I’ll never ever forget how he came home, walked in to the house with flowers and big eyes and a smile, and came to squeeze me tight. He knew we would be ok, it was something like serendipity.

About a month after I found out I was pregnant we went on vacation to Mexico. It had been planned for months, just the two of us- on the beach, relaxing, exploring and of course dancing in the ocean. A couple days into our trip I came across a warning urging pregnant women not to visit Mexico. Well fuck, I was pregnant and in Mexico. The concern was the Zika virus, carried by mosquitos and very dangerous to babies growing in their mothers womb. At this point in our trip I had about 22 mosquito bites on my legs and ankles and anxiety struck again. I was terrified I would contract zika and possibly infect my baby.

On that vacation he proposed, I honestly had no fucking idea he was gonna do it. I mean, yes I knew we were going to get married and grow old together and I would never ever let him leave me, but we hadn’t even looked at rings! I was shocked when he got down on one knee on the beach, I of course said yes, knowing with every ounce of my being that the universe had shifted to get us here, and we were in it together, now with the promise of forever.

This pregnancy presented its own difficulties, I had a real fear that there was no way I would love another baby as much as I loved my first. It sounds crazy, but it was real in my mind.

The day before my due date I started experiencing what felt like real contractions- they were pretty steady and frequent, and increasingly became uncomfortable. I called the nurse line for L&D and they advised me to come in when my contractions were about 5 minutes apart for an hour. Ok, fine. I called my fiance and told him we were gonna have a baby, but take his time coming home because it would be a few hours. I called my dad to come pick my son up so I could head straight to the hospital when my fiance’ got there.

My dad got to my house to pick up my kid, I asked him to stay with me for a little bit, I was getting very uncomfortable with contractions being about 7 minutes apart and very strong. In a matter of about 30 minutes they had jumped to every 3 or 4 minutes and were almost unbearable, I told my dad he would have to drive me to the hospital and I would have Kevin meet us there. This baby was coming.

My dad got my son and I loaded into his pickup truck and drove really fast as I screamed in pain next to him (I love my dad so much, he was trying so hard to help me remember to breathe and keep me calm.) Five minutes into our drive my water broke, it scared the shit out of me because there was no internal warning it was going to happen, I swear I heard it POP, and it terrified me. The next thing that happened was a moment I consider the single most badass thing I’ve ever done.

I pushed him out right there in the front of my dads pickup truck. I delivered my own baby in the car. I had heard of women not making it to the hospital and pulling over on the side of the road and plopping it out, but I never imagined it would be my story. I thought I knew my body, and the nurse on the phone said I had time.

I was holding my baby in my arms, so scared, and so relieved. My dad was scared but calm. The baby was crying and we pulled over into a parking lot where he immediately called 911. My 4 year old was in the back seat shouting I WANNA SEE!

The ambulance got there very quickly, they came and cut the umbilical cord right where I was sitting, and immediately transferred him into a foil blanket to make him warm, he for real was a baby burrito. The paramedics handed my dad a few paper towels to clean up the mess.

I remember staring at him while in the ambulance, taking in his scent and feeling so full. I felt like an animal, I was made to do this, and my confidence was soaring. I recovered from that birth in like 2 days, minimal pain and no tearing.

I was convinced that if I ever had another baby that I would want a water birth or something minimally medical. Seriously, how do I top that experience?

When I found out I was pregnant with number three, I was in a weird funk of depression that all of the sudden made sense, pregnancy hormones do that to me. I had a pretty normal pregnancy- super sick and dehydrated, energy level at zero, all the typical first trimester stuff. I experienced my first kidney stone, where I literally thought I may be dying, I am so sorry for people who experience them regularly.

At an anatomy scan we found out our baby had only one kidney, I didn’t know what that meant or what to do, or was it my fault? Did I absorb it and turn it into my kidney stone? I still don’t know why it happened, but the doctor told us he would probably be fine.

Hearing my baby had a birth birth defect was one of the most terrifying, confusing moments of my life. It was completely out of my control, I felt like I had done something wrong. I had to trust the process and know that whatever challenges would be presented, we would work it out together, as a family.

At about 32 weeks at another ultrasound it was discovered I had polyhydramnios, which is basically a buildup of amniotic fluid. It could be harmless, but could present issues if my water broke on its own, the umbilical cord could come out before the baby and cause alot of issues. Well, fuck, my water broke with vengeance the prior pregnancy and I was scared. They wanted to closely monitor, so I had to go for an ultrasound weekly to make sure he was ok in there.

The medical team I worked with decided it was best to induce a week before my due date, with my history of rapid delivery and all this fluid.

I was induced and labor took a while for me, compared to my previous births. When it was go-time, it took three good pushes. The NICU doctors were present in the delivery room and quickly assessed that he was ok. They handed me my new baby boy and all felt right, our family was complete.

It still blows my mind I have three beautiful, healthy boys. For anyone fearing pregnancy or labor- just know your body is strong and beautiful, and biologically made to experience it.

Yours will most likely be different than your mothers, sisters and friends. Every pregnancy and delivery is different and special and beautiful in its own way.

Trust your partner. Trust your medical team. Most importantly, trust yourself.


Why I started a blog.

A great attempt at making sense of this life. Trying to find balance in the day to day and navigate adulthood while constantly thinking, how did I get here?  

I am investing in myself. I am full of creativity and ideas and love. As I am officially in my late twenties trying to navigate motherhood and partnership, a shred of a social life, and make time to tend to my creative spark. I will reflect on my days and weeks with purpose and gratitude, I will allow myself to create and love without boundaries. 

When I sit here and reflect, just how did this become my life- how I have 3 miniature humans whom are each in their own way tiny sass-ass versions of Jess. They are wild and rambunctious, emotional and loud, and most of the time they love me almost as much as I love them. 

How I have a partner who has stood by me and supported me in every weird endeavor I become obsessed with (I purchased this domain for 1 year, we will see how it goes) and loves me, neck tat and all. We used to say the “universe shifted” the first day we held hands in his car, leaving a cemetary after pulling an all nighter and drinking copious amounts of red bull and laughing way harder than I had ever before. One of these days I’m going to write it all out, the love story that is ours, the beautiful early days that when I was living in them felt soft and full to the dark times where I thought what the fuck is life and why the fuck does it hurt so bad?  Yet, one day in June 2013 the universe shifted to give us this bright life, one filled with meaning and purpose and  so much love- it was something like serendipity.

As the years have passed by I have had many, many moments that i think back to that word- serendipity. How and why do these happy little special lucky things happen to me of all people? 

Im just a basic ass bitch who used to want to fight everyone and get way sloppy drunk every night and teased my hair too big to now having days where anxiety rules my every thought and I have to turn around and go back home to make sure I turned off the coffee pot. I also now have times where I can’t go 20 minutes without wiping someones butt or whipping my tit out to feed my baby. Many days I think, shit, did I brush my teeth? Sure, I can wear the same leggings again because fuck it, right? 

My oh my how times change! I feel lucky to call this messy life mine, and when I squint and blur my vision just right, I see so many instances of the universe sending me those beautiful VIBEZ.

Bangin’ at 5 years old.

Im not sure exactly why I’m here, with a desire to write it all out, I’m actually a semi-private person on the internet so this is weird. I love to create and craft and let my mind wander without fear of fucking it up. Ive never crafted with words before, but I’m pretty excited to see where we go. I have alot of stuff up in this dome piece that I am sure I will benefit from getting out. 

I often joke with my fiance’ about being stuck permanently in my head. Like, if you think I’m annoying- how the fuck do you think I feel? I mean, I’m stuck in here all the time with little relief. 

The phenomenon of serendipity interests me, and has ever since I saw it on pinterest. It makes me feel special and that as long as I’m actively remaining open to new ideas and experiences, then really great, even amazing things can happen to me too. It is my hope to share these experiences with you, so that you in turn, will share yours with me.