First born.


When I found out I was pregnant with my first kid, I was twenty-six years old. Literally, still a baby myself. I remember looking in the mirror at my growing belly and thinking, ” There’s no way I can be a mother. I’m still growing up. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO I AM YET.”


Too late for all that kind of self-doubting chatter.


Fiona arrived pretty promptly about one hour after her due date. The first time I held her, I knew I was meant to do this. To be a mommy. Her mommy.


Shortly after this beautiful moment, all hell broke loose.


I lived in a circle of boobs, poop, and google.


Constantly checking google for things like, “ Is the color of my kids poop normal?”, “ Will my kid ever sleep through the night?”, “ I’m breastfeeding, so why am I NOT LOSING ANY WEIGHT? WTF!”. This went on for months before I told google to f*ck off, I’d figure out this mom shit on my own.


Total lie. I found a village of moms who didn’t judge. I found that my mother, step mother, mother in law, grandmother, and many aunts, had so much love and insight to shower me with. (Even when I didn’t want to hear it.)


*it’s important to wear heels while sleeping.*


Some of my proudest parenting accomplishments…


  1. When Fiona was reading a book about frogs. She couldn’t say “Froggy”, but she could say, “ F*cky”. I let her roll with that for a few months, mostly because it made me laugh so damn hard.
  2. I encouraged her to throw shade. She throws shade left and right to everyone. She’s a professional shade thrower.IMG_0854*shade.*
  3. She started wearing high heels at 18 months old. I can’t really take credit for that, because I hate high heels.
  4. Her favorite thing for dinner is  ground beef. I’m very confused about this, but hey! She’s getting a good supply of iron.
  5. She enjoys putting her sister on a leash while walking around the house.
  6. She wants to be an engineer when she grows up.

IMG_0858* expert nose picker*

The older she grows the better it gets.

IMG_0850*pure joy*


IMG_0853*mamas little helper*


We liked having Fiona around so much, we decided to have another. Stay put. You’ll meet her soon.

Bonjour, you hot mama, you.

Ok, first off- I have no idea if you’re a hot mom. I’m guessing you are though. Because… WE ALL ARE. We are hot moms with baby food in our hair, baby poop on our finger, someone’s barf on our favorite flip flops. You are still hot. Keep on doing what you’re doing. Just make sure you wash the poop off your hands before you bite into an apple…(not that I know that from experience…).


If you’re looking for a mom blog that talks about fashion, my fashion is yoga pants and the same shirt I’ve slept in for three days. You my friend, are in the wrong place.

If you’re looking for a mom blog about makeup… I get to put makeup on like once a week. I used to be a makeup artist for Clinique. Now, I’m lucky if I can get a coat of mascara on my eyes on a Thursday morning when we’re already late for preschool.

If you’re looking for a mom blog about eating healthy… shut up. You eat what you can eat while your kids are throwing their food at each other across the table.

If you’re looking for a mom blog about exercise, that’s awesome. I also feel like chasing my three children is enough of a gym membership for me. Can I get an amen?

This is a mom blog about about absolute nonsense. The best kind of nonsense. The nonsense of three little girls.

Three girls who make every single day so much better. Three girls who are lovely and sweet. Three girls that remind me daily how precious and chaotic life is.

*my baby queens: Fiona, Maeve & Lucille*

Three girls who routinely throw food at each other. Three girls who laugh at each other when they fart. Three girls who enjoy hardcore rap while I cook dinner in the kitchen every night. Three girls who routinely say ridiculous things. (Remember a few years back that whole Target credit card fraud thing happened? My then two year old, over heard a conversation about our bank accounts having fraudulent activity. She then looked at my with the absolute innocence of a tiny toddler and said, ” OH F*CK!”. I applauded her on her excellent ability to use the word F*CK  in the proper context.)

So, if you enjoy stories about kids saying and doing crazy things, you are in the right place my friend. Perhaps, you enjoy stories about a mom who says and does equally ridiculous things. If not, just stick around anyway. Trust me.

Brace yourself. Brace. Yourself.

*via Pinterest*
* Wake up everyday and say this to yourself as you clean the peas and puke off your floor*