Barely Domestic Mama

Nothing says Pride Month quite like Trump filling his lawn with sweaty shirtless men grappling in front of America. Beautiful allyship.

one hand is the main character and the other is just an unpaid intern.

Because so much of parenting isn’t: “How do I control this tiny human?” It’s: “How do I stay calm while this tiny human loses their mind in surround sound at 6:42 a.m. because their banana broke in half?”

I can’t believe May is almost over. I feel like I’ve experienced at least four separate lifetimes emotionally.

Them: “Wow… you’re glowing.” Me: “Thanks. It’s the perimenopause, insomnia, and low grade feminine rage. Nature’s highlighter.”

POV: life keeps hitting you with thunderstorms, emotional damage, unpaid bills, and one mildly inconvenient text… but you channel the energy of the Itsy Bitsy Spider and crawl back up the spout out of pure spite. Lock in. Keep climbing.

Some days my brain is a powerful machine. Other days it’s just AOL dial-up noises and emotional support snacks.

Me: mommy just needs one second of peace My kid: anyway, I've decided we're one person again.

My road rage is so bad I don’t want to fight people anymore… I just want temporary access to their car speakers for constructive criticism. “Congrats on cutting me off, Jessica. Your exit was three miles ago.”

Healing is expensive. Your apology should cover fees. At this point, closure is cute, but direct deposit feels more sincere.

Life is a tornado and I’m the cow in the background that nobody talks about but everyone remembers.

Perimenopause got me standing there like I’m listening, but all I hear is unpaid bills and Charlie Brown adults

I’m not forgetful. My brain just likes hide-and-seek and I’m losing.

The biggest lesson I’ve learned this past year is that sometimes you have to make decisions that break your heart but bring peace to your soul. Grief changes you like that. Sometimes peace doesn’t look like happiness. Sometimes it looks like walking away, letting go, or choosing yourself… while yo

Some people would rather play the victim than face the damage they caused. Breaking cycles means becoming the parent you needed.

It’s been a wonderful smashed weekend for my birthday and Mother’s Day.

“Girl you light up every room you walk into.” Ew. Absolutely not. I’ve seen enough true crime documentaries to know that’s how you end up being described by a crying aunt on Netflix. Make the room pitch black immediately.

Science says the sun is the hottest thing in the universe, but clearly they haven’t measured you yet.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” Respectfully, I’m already at the bridge, stress tested the bridge, had three panic attacks on the bridge, and designed an emergency detour. What now?

Trip → turn around → blame the floor. I have a brand to protect.

Go Grey in May 🧠 Brain cancer didn’t just take a life… it took my dad. It doesn’t care how strong you are. It doesn’t wait. It doesn’t play fair. And for some types… survival isn’t the norm it’s the exception. So yeah… I’m going grey this month. Because this fight is personal.

I don’t even want the item anymore… but now it’s PRINCIPLE. Why are you emailing me like we’re in a committed relationship?? I came for a discount, not a situationship. Unsubscribe?? No. I will suffer in silence and be annoyed like an adult.

Some days, depression doesn't feel like sadness it feels like emptiness. Like searching for a version of yourself you can't quite remember. If you've ever questioned what happiness even feels like anymore, you're not alone. Sometimes just making it through the day is enough.

Peace is the priority. Titles don’t exempt you.

There's power in being able to reject what disturbs your peace without becoming disturbed yourselt. Honestly? "Happy bitch" sounds less like an insult and more like a title.

Symptoms may include: * Instant eye twitching at obvious lies * Sudden exhaustion during pointless meetings * Severe reactions to drama, excuses, and fake energy * Saying “absolutely not” with increasing frequency

ADHD = A Diva Having Distractions way more on point.

Women can achieve anything in the world except consistent vitamins D Iron and B12 levels.

I really thought “20 years ago” meant the 90s… not 2006. Now I’m just sitting here realizing I’m basically a historical landmark with back pain.

I’m mature, but not mature mature. Like I have responsibilities… but I still need to use my fingers to count sometimes.

Protecting your peace during the holidays means realizing everybody doesn’t deserve access just because y’all share blood. Boundaries apply year round, not just when the table is set.

spilling your coffee as an adult feels like the same kind of small but devastating disappointment a child feels when dropping an ice cream cone. Less crying more cuss words

In case no one tells you today: you matter, you’re needed, and you’re at least 3 people’s “hear me out.”

We carry pieces of the people we love with us their habits, phrases, music, and little ways of being. Over time those pieces become part of who we are, like a personal museum made from every love that helped shape us.

Happy 4/20. Go outside, enjoy yourself, laugh too hard at nothing, stare at nature like it owes you answers, and come back feeling spiritually confused but relaxed.

Your body really woke up one day and said: “Let’s do hormones again… but this time we cry, fight, sweat, and don’t explain why.”

"I might join you later". Translation: You have a better chance of seeing Tupac riding a unicorn than you have of seeing me.

Born and raised in the era of ‘don’t touch the good towels,’ now parenting kids who treat the house like a jungle gym. Send help, I can hear three different tvs right now.

The math is mathing and I don’t like it.

“Just lock in.” Lock in? I’m a mom with ADHD. I’m locked out, forgot where I put the keys, and there’s a tiny feral goblin following me whispering, “snack?” every 11 seconds. My brain got 47 tabs open, one playing panic music, one researching air fryers, and one wondering if penguins have knees.

I used to have thoughts… now I just host a live Q&A I didn’t sign up for.

Keep it real and a little pointed because distance never stopped the right people from showing up. Effort always tells the truth.

I’m an adult in the same way a tomato is a fruit… we all agree on it, but deep down it just doesn’t sit right.

Bills are paid. Responsibilities handled. Time to absolutely destroy this plate like I’ve never known peace.

I love how subtitles tell you what song and version is playing like you’re truly deaf… and somehow supposed to know what that means.

I’ve been emotionally validating my dog for years. He barks, I affirm. Zero understanding. Full commitment.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy more like feral, fragile, and five minutes from snapping

Welcome to the Midwest where you wake up freezing, defrost by 10, start sweating by 2, and by 5pm your body has no idea what season it's in.

Typing my email on the TV like I’m defusing a bomb with a potato. One wrong click and now I’m back at “A” rethinking every life decision that led me here.

Growth is knowing when to communicate. Healing is knowing when to just stay the hell away from people.

There are always signs. Anxiety isn’t always visible.

Break down. I’ll sit in the wreckage with you. Silence is heavier than anything you could say.

I’m sensitive, not soft. I will cry, process my feelings… and then circle back to slap you.

26 peanut butter eggs = protein. Mind your business.

FACT: kids suddenly develop FBI-level investigation skills when chocolate is involved… but can’t find their shoes that are literally on their feet.

I set the scene… delivered the line… handed him the moment on a silver platter… and he dropped it like it was a group project he didn’t sign up for. now I gotta go process this betrayal like it’s 1995 all over again.

We were promised flying cars and robot maids… and instead we got stupidity with WiFi. Love that for us.

No lemons. Just trauma and a short fuse.

Girls gone wild party. Women gone wild leave evidence that somehow points back to you.

Missouri weather: summer …tornado …winter in 24 hours. Allergies included. Financial stability not included.

Dessert deviled eggs if you will. First attempt that’s why I used red velvet. I’ll be using white cake for next weekend.

Peak chaos I’m trying to achieve.

Enjoy life anyway you want to…

I showed up drunk to the family reunion… nerves were high, silence was louder, and I didn’t talk to a single soul. In my defense… they were all dead.

Honestly, that second one might be more reliable than death. Because explain to me how you go to bed fully contained… and wake up looking like one of them filed for independence overnight. Gravity? Betrayal. Fabric physics? Suspicious. No witnesses. No accountability. Just vibes and one rogue escape

“There are no stupid questions.” Respectfully people without kids have never been interrogated by a tiny human with unlimited curiosity and zero common sense.

Just out here conducting daily emotional audits with zero qualifications. Is it hormones? The weather? My bank account? Or am I one inconvenience away from a full system reboot? Being a woman is a constant game of “what flavor of sad is this?” and honestly… the results are inconclusive.

A full 24 hours where: no group chats no “just circling back” emails no random opinions nobody asked for Just peace. Silence. Collective muting. Call it “Do Not Disturb Day” Participation mandatory. No exceptions. No explanations. And if someone breaks it… straight to a 48-hour extension.

Objective: To determine whether relocation to a vacation setting reduces baseline bitchiness. Methods: Subject transported to various locales with sunny climates, tropical drinks, and minimal responsibilities. Behavioral observations recorded. Results: Bitchiness slightly reduced in specific geogr

You’re not the bigger person… you’re the matching energy department. “Take the high road?” I don’t even have directions for that. You go low, I meet you there with snacks and better comebacks. Respectfully… we’re syncing levels.

Caffeine really said “you’re not tired” while my soul is laid out on the floor. Wide awake. Zero energy. Slightly unhinged.

Completely zoned out from everyone else around us just focused on one another.

God forbid a girl be both whimsical and full of rage. Like yes, I want flowers and soft music and also to flip a table if you test me. I contain multitudes. Some of them bite.

One thing about me: it can be 90° outside and I’ll still be under a blanket like I’m protecting myself from life, not the temperature.

I choose chaos in small, inconvenient ways. It’s the long game for me….

not me fighting for my life in a customer service menu like it’s a final boss battle just let me speak to a HUMAN

The quiet life was never the problem. We were just taught to believe it was. Turns out peace doesn’t sell nearly as well as hustle.

According to Monsters, Inc., screams can power a city. So scientifically speaking… I should at least be able to run my coffee maker by now.

idk but I’m convinced an all inclusive vacation somewhere warm and tropical would fix my problems… or at the very least move them to next month.

You’re not old. You’ve just reached the “captions are superior technology” phase of life.

Some people run marathons. Some people climb mountains. I rot horizontally with snacks and call it self care.

Don’t forget to set your clocks forward tonight… from seasonal depression to regular depression with longer business hours.

Sorry, what were you saying? My intrusive thoughts gremlin was pitching terrible ideas again.

Results may vary. Side effects include honesty, sarcasm, and not tolerating nonsense. Customer complaints may be submitted directly to the void.

Energy level: aggressive exhaustion

Apparently having a neutral face in public is now a group discussion. I’m not tired, mean, or mad I’m just not performing for an audience I didn’t invite. If my face bothers you, feel free to look away.I promise I won’t take it personally

Hate me, fear me, avoid me I’ll take that over being used any day. I’ve learned the hard way that being “liked” often just means being convenient. Being easy. Being available. And I’m not interested in shrinking myself to make other people comfortable anymore.

Moms don’t need unsolicited advice we’ve got enough voices in our heads already. But unsolicited praise? Yeah… we’ll take that all day. Because sometimes, in the middle of the chaos and second guessing and “am I messing this up?” it’s just really nice to hear we’re doing a good job.

Not everything I dreamed of… but everything I need. A home full of love, a life that feels safe, and people who make it all worth it. Turns out “having it all” was never about more it was about this.

Hearting your own texts mid argument is the digital version of clapping for yourself while someone’s still talking.