Have I mentioned how much I LOVE Sundays? I adore The Confessional (click for archives) and am so excited to see this little weekly feature I started several months ago bring people together each week…Whether you are a faithful reader who looks forward to this post each week, or whether you are checking us out for the first time, I hope you find a bit of relief as you read…some validation as you recognize that you are NOT the only mom who has the same feelings you do….who does the same things you do….(You know, those things and feelings you’re too ashamed to admit to anyone..) It turns out that ALL of us are hiding our true selves from each other…trying so hard to act as though we have it all together, and NONE of us do…So we lay it all out there for the world to see on Sunday…confessing our parenting sins in the hopes that someone else will finally feel “good enough.” YOU ARE!  Read on and be exonerated my friend.

Today’s confessor is hands-down one of my favorite friends I’ve never met. =) She’s awesome, and I love catching up with her on Twitter each week. (Find her / Find me) She is the author of the Confessions of a Reluctant Housewife blog, and an overall awesome person! Ready to feel better? Here we go…

Father forgive me…



I’ve only been a parent for 10 short months. The past 10 months have been an experience unlike any
previous experience I’ve ever had. The only way that I know how to describe the last 10 months is
that it’s like a roller coaster, flying faster than you can comprehend, shooting high in the sky and then
plummeting down to the ground, twists and turns you never see coming and so incredibly exhilarating.
Yes, of course there are highs…grand, spectacular highs, the type where you think, “I want another one.
Tomorrow. Everything about this is wonderful, and sunny, and feels good all the way down to my toes.”
But, then there are the lows, the times when:

I’ve gone on strike. One day after Zoe cried for the vast majority of the morning, only took a
30 minute nap, the dog ate the comforter, and my car battery died as I was going to a friend’s
house {all by 11:30 a.m.} I came back inside, placed my daughter on the floor, and went on
strike. For the entire rest of the afternoon.
I can’t make myself get up one more time in the middle of the night {Zoe’s a GREAT sleeper,
but when she’s sick she wakes up a lot at night}. I lay in bed pretending to be asleep until Brad
wakes up to get her.
I have never, ever, ever, made a practice of rinsing off Zoe’s pacifiers. Not even as a newborn. If
I feel like the floor is too germy {like a gas station, or church} to put back in her mouth, I’ll pop it
in my mouth first. That’s really quite disgusting and I’ve never thought twice about it.
I take my anger out on my dog {Hemmingway} because I feel like a 10 month old shouldn’t be
subjected to the outbursts I have throughout the day. Hemmingway has been yelled at more
times in the past 10 months than in his entire life up to this point.
I went on vacation and realized upon returning to real life that I didn’t miss one single thing
about it. In that moment I wanted to walk away from everything except Brad and Zoe.
I take pregnancy tests ALL the time because I’m terrified that I might be pregnant again.
{Seriously, I should own stock in First Response.} After I take them it takes me about 1 hour to
look at the results. Once I made Brad read it, he asked, “What does it mean if it has 2 lines?” I
felt panic in the deepest parts of my soul.
I forgot to change Zoe’s diaper once, when she was about 3 months old, for the whole day. It
was 9 pm when I looked at Brad and asked when we’d changed it last. It had been 10 hours.
When I left Zoe’s 4 month well check it was with the instructions to wait until she was 6
months old to start solid food, and then when I did start them to start with vegetables. I drove
away from the office, straight to the grocery store, and bought rice cereal. I have a hard time
following the rules.
Once, after running around town doing errands, Zoe was crying in the backseat. My usual
frustration at hearing her cry started, and then I realized that I’d forgotten to feed her lunch. I
started sobbing in the passenger seat. I cried for the next 4 days…not over forgetting to feed her
lunch, but feeling like I sucked as a mom.
Speaking of crying, this past Tuesday night I ended the evening curled into the fetal position
sobbing on my husband’s leg. By the time I was finished his shorts were soaked from his thigh to his knee. I have no idea why I was crying, but it had something to do with feeling like I sucked as
a stay at home mom.
Quite often when we have a babysitter I’m so excited to have a few hours “off” that in my
excitement I leave the house and forget to say “goodbye” to Zoe.
On numerous occasions when Brad comes home I meet him at the door with Zoe, hand her off,
kiss him, and then go upstairs for the next hour with no explanation.
When Zoe was about 2 months old Brad and I were lying in bed, Zoe was nursing, Brad’s hand
was on my thigh, and then my cat started walking up my leg. I felt suffocated by all the needs I
had to fulfill for the people/animals in my life. My exterior was calm but my internal scream was
deafening to my ears. I still struggle with being constantly needed every single day.

There ya have it! There’s probably more, but I’m trying not to write a novel here =) If you want the
mix of the highs and lows check out my blog Confessions of a Reluctant Housewife. Thanks for
reading my confessions! Happy Sunday everybody!