Allison Cooper

Last month, I turned 30 (gasp!). It still gives me a little bit of a heart palpitation to type that out, but nonetheless, it happened.

Anxiety is a word that is used quite often in adulthood, but what happens when it’s a child dealing with it? Many times it’s brushed off as fear, leaving parents questioning: When is fear just fear, or time to talk to a doctor?

In case someone comes out of the woodwork and goes extra hard with the mom-shaming for choosing to bottle feed, here are some really important reasons not to feel ashamed.

For so long, I’ve defined myself as nothing other than a mom, and I think that was beginning to be a toxic thing for me. I’m so much more than “just a mom,” even though that’s one of my favorite titles.

These are the things I anticipate most when my kids finally go the eff to sleep. I deserve it after a day of being in what feels like survival mode.

When I brought my son into the world, I thought that he would be an awful lot like me. He had to be, right? He grew inside me; I nourished him; I was the one home with him day in and day out during those very impressionable years, while my husband worked a grueling military schedule — yet there are few similarities to be found.

Dear Husband, You are putting up with an awful lot in being with me right now, and rightfully so — I’m growing a tiny human inside me. Our tiny human. You have been very patient and kind with me, but so far we are only 15 weeks along and I fear that we have an even longer road ahead of us.