IT IS OKAY

Its okay if I don't do it perfectly.

Its okay if I lose my temper, as long as I say I'm sorry and tell them that I'm having a bad day.

It only makes it worse when I beat myself up, on top of losing my temper.

It's okay that I have a muffin top and I can't fit into my cute 7 jeans that I spent way too much money on, (when I did things like went shopping).

It's okay that I feel sad sometimes because I  miss my old life.

It is my old life........ One thing is certain, life will never stay the same.

It's okay that most days, I have no fucking idea what I'm doing.

It's okay to wing it, buy the cake instead of bake it, make the boxed mac and cheese or give my son a non- organic banana.

 It's okay to parent with the personality I have.

I want my kids to know it's supremely better to be themselves - striving for perfection is painful.

It's okay that I envy other moms who seem so much better at this than me.

It's okay because being a mom is messy and it's really fucking hard.

It's okay that almost anything makes me cry now.

It's okay that I secretly binge out on chocolate after they go to bed.(and occasionally get busted by a small monster who wants a piece) Really- do you think I say no?

It's okay that I can't remember what I did yesterday, or last week, or who I talked to this morning.

It's okay that I have days when I just want to get in my car and drive away.

It's okay that I don't always LIKE my kids.

It's okay if I don't do it perfectly.

I can love my friends who don't do it perfectly either, and they can love their friends who don't.

This way, the "world" around us that promotes being perfect can go fuck themselves .

We are bigger than them.

Mom to mom to mom... it's the imperfect ripple effect.

When I am in the trenches of temper tantrums, shitty diapers, peed on beds,colored on walls, and half eaten meals, I need to remember : This too shall pass.

I can scream in my freezer instead of at my kids (good idea, although, I have only done that once.)

When it's mundane and exhausting and I feel alone......................

I can think of you and you can think of me and know that it is okay.

It is okay to be a mess.

It is okay to not be perfect.