Kristi Pahr

When I got pregnant for the third time, I was determined to have an unmedicated VBAC. I had big plans. This VBAC was going to be my birth experience salvation. It was going to be empowering and amazing and heal all my hangups. I was going to be a mama goddess and everything was going to be perfect. I was wrong.

I have a confession to make. Target, meh. I’m just not that into it.

I feel like if I’d started earlier, had my first kid at 28 instead of 34, maybe I’d be a little less tired right now. Maybe I’d be a more fun mom if my knees didn’t sound like small arms fire every time I tried to run with my son. Maybe I’d be a better mom if I was younger. But I don’t think so. My kids? They’re awesome. And I’m the mom they have, so I must be doing something right, old or not.

I’m lazy as hell, you guys. I know it’s true and I’m not particularly ashamed.

It seems like everyone is an introvert these days.

Essential oils have become incredibly popular and can be found everywhere from your local farmer’s market and community festival to social media.

I’m frazzled, y’all; I’m a mess. I’m a basketcase of anxiety and stress and I need to chill.