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Mama life

They call me mama 💕✨

02/04/2026

I don’t care if women give birth medicated or unmedicated.
It’s your body. Your life. Your call.

But I’ve done both.
And the unmedicated birth was otherworldly.

It wasn’t just pain.
It was a crossing.
A stripping down.
A meeting with something ancient and powerful inside me.

Time disappeared. Fear burned off.
It felt primal. Sacred. Almost unreal.

Not better. Not superior.
Just a completely different realm.

And once you’ve been there,
you don’t forget it.

02/04/2026

Snacks just hit harder when you’re sitting in the driveway waiting for you toddler to wake up in the backseat

02/04/2026

I try to be the calm mom
But sometimes I’m the impatient one

I try to be the kind mom
But sometimes I’m the angry one

I try to be the gentle mom
But sometimes I raise my voice

I try to be the present mom
But sometimes my mind is tired before my body is

I try to be the patient mom
But sometimes I’m stretched thin and running on empty

I try to be the perfect mom
But most days I’m just a real one

And I’m learning that showing up, even messy, even human,
still counts as love.

02/04/2026

I don’t have to share all my snacks with my kids.

They have their snacks.
I have mine.

And yes, I share. Because I want to.
Because generosity matters.
Because food isn’t scarce in this house.

But not everything is automatically theirs just because I’m the mom holding it.

They don’t need to learn entitlement.
They need to learn boundaries.
They need to learn that other people are allowed to have things that belong to them.

Including me.

Sometimes the lesson isn’t “here, take it.”
Sometimes the lesson is “this one is mine.”

And that’s not selfish.
That’s healthy.
That’s teaching respect, patience, and the understanding that the world doesn’t revolve around grabbing whatever you see.

I’m raising kids who can hear no without falling apart.
And a mom who gets to enjoy her snack while it’s still warm.

02/04/2026

And here we are making it ♥️

02/04/2026

A baby name you loved but didn’t use 🤍

02/03/2026

I love cooking.
I love baking.
Give me a free afternoon and I’ll happily make something from scratch and lose myself in it.

But deciding what’s for dinner every single night
That part drains my soul.

It’s not the cooking.
It’s the mental gymnastics.
The inventory check.
The who will eat this and who will dramatically gag.
The knowing that whatever I pick someone will be personally offended by.

I can make homemade bread and a beautiful dessert
but asking me at 4:47 pm what’s for dinner feels like a trap.

Sometimes I don’t want to be creative.
I want a menu that appears out of thin air and makes the decision for me.

Cooking brings me peace.
Choosing dinner feels like a group project I didn’t sign up for.

If loving to cook but hating dinner decisions is wrong
then I guess I’ll be wrong while eating cereal at 6 pm again.

02/03/2026

There’s a version of me that didn’t know how strong I could be until I became a mother.

I’ve fought for jobs.
For relationships.
For survival.
For myself.

But nothing compares to the way I will fight for my kids.

For their safety when the world feels loud and careless.
For their future when systems fall short.
For their happiness even when it costs me comfort.
For their hearts especially when it would be easier to stay quiet.

Motherhood unlocked a different kind of fight in me.
One that doesn’t back down.
One that doesn’t apologize.
One that will go to the mat every single time.

Because they are worth it.
Every boundary.
Every hard conversation.
Every battle I never wanted but will gladly carry.

02/03/2026

As a mom in 2026 the pressure to do everything and be everything is unreal.
Be present but productive.
Gentle but firm.
Informed but instinct led.
Healed, thriving, organized, patient, creative, rested, grateful.

All while the world watches, comments, compares, and expects you to keep smiling through it.

It’s a lot.
And if you feel stretched thin, behind, or quietly overwhelmed, it’s not because you’re failing.
It’s because the expectations are impossible.

You’re not meant to be everything.
You’re meant to be enough.
And you already are.

02/03/2026

😮‍💨😮‍💨

02/03/2026

These girls man 😮‍💨

02/03/2026

We call it strength when a mother pushes through burnout.
But most of the time, it’s just survival.

It looks like functioning.
Like showing up.
Like keeping everything moving while joy, clarity, and peace quietly slip out the back door.

Survival mode isn’t a badge of honor.
It’s a warning sign we’ve learned to ignore.
One that says this pace isn’t sustainable, even if it’s normalized.

Mothers aren’t meant to live on empty.
We aren’t meant to disappear to keep everyone else afloat.
We were meant to be supported, rested, and whole.

Because motherhood shouldn’t require losing yourself just to prove you’re strong.

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