The amount of mental energy I have put into analyzing and discussing shoes at length with my tribe as of late is staggering and embarrassing and stupid. Kind of. My big girl will only wear Vans. When not wearing slip on Vans, her life falls into disarray. What is this need about? We have discussed sensory issues and we have discussed preferences vs. needs and we have discussed that needing the right shoe is a first world problem. Or is it? We have discussed how immediately replacing her falling apart Vans rather than waiting for the replacement to come via the warranty department is encouraging and supporting this ridiculous demand for the right shoe. Or is it really looking at her and acknowledging that for some reason she is overstimulated by the wrong shoe and it is fucking with her? Our shoes should not fuck with us. They should provide a comfortable and protective layer for our feet that keeps shit from poking our tender little tootsies.
I'm Molly. I'm all in for parenting. I'm all in for good food. All in for big and small outdoor adventures. And really only partly in for homemaking. I want a Martha Stewart home and meal, but the truth is, we mamas just can't do it all. Not really. This shit is tricky!
This is a collection of musings and missives about parenting like you mean it. I mean really mean it. About how you can pull off a really mostly decent meal, keep your house kinda clean, do some of your laundry, and also even remember to usually feed your pets. But mostly about how being a mama is hard and we can totally rock it, but maybe that dream of perfection has got to give a little.