Expert Schmexpert


So, I’ve gotta ask, who’s easier for you to deal with: a Momma who complains or a new Momma who claims to be an “expert” on parenthood?! 


I think we know the answer. Most of us will encounter these types of women over the years… and to me, one of these women is lying – not only to others, but to herself. Yes, I’m a fan of positivity, but I’m a bigger fan of honesty. No one can know it all; especially a new-mom. It’s OK to ask for help

I do feel the need to give confident women a little pat on the back, because I still suffer through moments where I lack confidence, and I’ve been doing this for 5 1/2 years! But please don’t judge me or tell me how to do my job… or worse, butt into a conversation about school, potty training, etc that you have yet to experience yourself. Because, ya know what? My kids are different than yours. My LIFE is different than yours. Ok, so I didn’t make baby-food from scratch, but I did manage to nurse one of my children for nearly 2 years. Yeah, my kids probably watch too much TV, but they’ve also been exposed to more music (live and recorded) than many adults. My oldest was attached to her pacifier until she was almost 2, my youngest never took to one. Hell, the differences between my 2 children alone made me realize how unique EVERY child is. 


Motherhood is a wonderful thing… but it’s a tough job, and it kinda sucks sometimes. It really is ok to complain about it, because guess what — most of us are flying by the seat of our pants here, taking each day as it comes; it’s the only way to survive sometimes! Mommas don’t bond over one telling the other how to do their job, we bond over relating to the rough patches we ALL deal with.


Look, I may have a tiny little blog where I gush and bitch about parenthood, but I have hardly claimed to know it all, that’s for sure! Sharing experiences or ideas that worked [or failed] for me is very different from saying “Well, you’re supposed to do it this way.” According to “who?” Sorry, but “expert” moms really get my panties in a twist sometimes. Where’s my damn beer?! 

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