I’ve had a version of this blog post written so many times. I’ve lost count which shooting it came before, or after. And for some reason, I’ve not published it until today.

Hold up, not true. I know exactly why I’ve not published it until today:

I’ve been too scared.

Scared I would offend someone. Scared I wouldn’t say the right thing. Scared I was wrong. Scared I would anger some, or step on toes.

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Deep breath, Mom.

I had to take a lot of deep breaths today. I should have taken a few more. There were times I should have stopped to take one, but I didn’t. I yelled instead. I grabbed instead. I’m taking them now, while my boys are napping upstairs. Both sleeping soundly, something that doesn’t happen much these days.

Upon reflection, here’s what I should have said

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Look Mama, Look!

I don’t often comment on current events or politics. I tend to keep this blog for random musings on life and motherhood. But the massacre in Orlando knocked the wind out of me this week. Somehow I can’t shake the horror.

I had a different post written with my commentary on our need for more humanity and less fear. I was almost ready to hit publish and share it. And maybe I will at some point. But then this happened with my son:

‘I want to paint my toes, Mama. I want pretty toes like you.’

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Confessions of a former food snob mom


“He eats everything,” I told my pediatrician proudly at my son’s one year check up.

“That’s great,” she said with a smile that said just wait, this won’t last. But I was certain that my pediatrician – with her years of experience and a few children of her own – didn’t know my child and how well he ate or how well I’d done with him. I practiced Baby Led Weaning after all; I followed the book precisely and it worked!

No doubt you know moms like me. You’ve heard us at playdates.

My kid will eat anything or She LOVES broccoli or He’s SO adventurous with food.

Sound familiar?

Oh, we try not to gloat. But we just can’t help it, proud mommies that we are. We give credit where credit is due, to our superior parenting skills, of course. Look what we did, we’d like to shout from the rooftops, our kids are perfect, or nearly, and it’s all thanks to us. Of course we don’t say this aloud, but it’s clear we’re probably thinking it.

Until one day, our kid stops eating broccoli.

And avocados.

And asparagus.

And steak.

And caviar.

OK, they never ate caviar, but they might has well have, in our minds.

And we are now eating very humble pie.

Read the rest of this essay here, at MKE Moms Blog.