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Brought to You by the Letter S (for Screen Time)
Hi. My name is Sara, and I let my kid have screen time. I was a kid in the ’90s, and the TV practically raised me. PBS and Nickelodeon were my ride-or-dies. Barney taught me how to make friends (and tolerate people I didn’t like), Lamb Chop sparked my love for music, and Angelica Pickles?… Read more
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You Can See My Face, Not My Kid’s
When I was pregnant with Miles, I made the decision not to post photos of him online. Why? Because I grew up in the wild west days of the internet. Where AIM away messages were therapy, and I was in chat rooms pretending to be a 14/f/FL when I was actually 12, talking to what… Read more
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He Got a Pokémon Card and I Got a Meltdown
I don’t get kids. You can give them the best day of their little lives and still somehow end up cast as the villain in their four-act emotional drama. Like, explain that to me. For example, Miles is currently obsessed with Pokémon cards (gotta catch them all), so Mike decided to surprise him with a… Read more
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Tired, Medicated, and Done Procreating
Let me be brutally honest: no, I will not have any more kids. I am one and done, baby. “But won’t Miles be lonely as an only child?” I don’t know, Martha, do you want to carry and financially support his sibling? Because unless you’re offering, I’m gonna go ahead and say he’ll be just… Read more
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Self-Care? I Have 7 Minutes and a Granola Bar
Self-care? Never met her. I got a manicure and pedicure for Mother’s Day a month ago. Does that still count? Even therapy isn’t sacred anymore. During my last session, I proudly announced to my therapist that I was home alone with Miles but had prepped like I was heading into a hostage negotiation. I set… Read more
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The Curse of the Door Side Parent
INT. SARA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. TOTAL SILENCE, SAVE FOR THE STEADY HUM OF A CHEAP BOX FAN CHUGGING AWAY IN THE WINDOW LIKE IT’S CLINGING TO LIFE. THE GLOW OF A DIGITAL CLOCK READS 2:43 AM. SARA (36), WRAPPED IN BLANKETS LIKE A BURRITO OF EXHAUSTION, IS DEAD ASLEEP – SLEEPING… Read more
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Jack’s Mannequin, Rainy Streets & Mild Back Pain
Ahhh, the sweet sound of silence. No tiny voice yelling, “Mom, can you get me this?” every 3 minutes—no one treating my body like a jungle gym. Just me, my husband, and New York City—said in a dramatic Matt Berry voice. (IYKYK) While Miles was living his absolute best life with my mom (aka Binki,… Read more
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AITA for Wanting Respect from Someone Who Just Wiped Boogers on Me?
r/AmItheAssholeMomJeans&Meltdowns 13 hr. ago AITA for wanting respect from someone who just wiped boogers on me? Hey guys. So, I (F36) live with my (M4) four-year-old, who has the hearing range of a bat when it comes to ice cream trucks or distant sirens but goes completely deaf the moment I ask him to pick… Read more
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Poop, Puke, and Pool Chairs: A Vacation Tale
WARNING: This post may not be for you if you get squeamish when talking about poop and vomit. Reader discretion is advised. I am not your boss, though. Just warning you. The family bathroom door won’t stop jiggling, my four-year-old is crying like I just told him Daniel Tiger was canceled forever, and I’m frantically… Read more
