Today, I flip the script. My new inner monologue goes something like this: parenting is not nothing.

Mothers are seriously the superheroes of the world, but even superheroes need a break every now and then.

When you looked at me, and told me to enjoy every minute, part of me wanted to punch you.

Lehetséges egy nap kétszer kudarcot vallani?

It’s the hardest job in the world, and yet the immensity of gratitude makes me feel as though I could fly.

I wear leggings everyday. Black. Matches everything.

The perfect mother is a mythical creature that roams in the subconscious nightmares of most mothers.

I’m not just a mom. In any given day, I wear a hundred different hats, make a thousand decisions, run my household smoothly, and…most importantly…love and strengthen my children and husband.

They have zero appreciation for anything I have done for them today.

I'm a score-keeper. It's a good way to measure the distance from performance to perfection. And, for some reason, I can get drawn in by the myth of perfection.