I am all about the #hustle and I have a horrible tendency to take pride in that. God made me a very capable woman, and how do I repay him? By taking everything into my own hands and trying to do it myself.

I'm an ESFP which means I experience bursts of energy and the highest of highs full of ideas, passion and the ambition to get it done. It also means that when I meet the tiniest bit of adversity, it is enough to stop me in my tracks and give up.

Yesterday, I asked one of my kids to do something and their response was "but I'm too busy!" My heart sank. Where the hell did they even hear that? Holy crap! From my mouth! My busy and distracted mouth.

Do I brunch? Me? (Uncontrollable laughter here) No, my brunching days our behind me. This morning, I scarfed a cup of coffee in record time in attempt to fuel up before the gremlins arose from their peaceful slumber so they could ask me to do things for them that they can do on their own. Then I changed 5 bazillion poopy diapers and finally got to that big pile of laundry and then spent naptime writing new resources for my auction clients. No time for bottomless mimosas and French toast over here.

You can choose to have regrets or you can choose to have stories in your life. Anything you do, whether you succeed or "fail" becomes apart of who you are. It shapes your future and builds your character. I put "fail" in quotes because the only way to fail in my book is to not try.

Has anyone written the book "What To Expect When You Don't Know What The Hell Is Going On" yet? I'd buy it. I'm still waiting for that moment when all the mommy wisdom will infiltrate my brain. I wish it would come soon because I have two kids and I don't even know when I should take them to the doctor for a cough or when they're "fine, it's just a cough." There's such a fine line between "meh, you're fine" and "you are dying and I should have taken you in so much sooner!" When do we start to know these things? 

Dear Stretch Denim,

You are a bad friend. You initially won me over with your yoga pants-esque elasticity and small size. I bought you at the height of salad season, so proud to own that tiny number on your tag. Then, as we moved into fall (aka carb season) together, you still hugged my waist and hips without judgement. You thought you were being kind, but you were just lying to me. Yesterday I put on your cool older sister, REAL JEANS, and that bitch told me I'd gotten fat. She was so mad at me, she refused to button. It hurt, but it was what I needed to hear. I'm sticking with thick, uncomfortable traditional denim from here on out. Stretch jeans, we had a good run, but I don't have room in my life for liars.

xoxo,

Sarah

It's a long game, ladies. Something I struggle with every single day. As I work with my kids' hearts, trying to shape them into decent human beings I can get discouraged because somedays it feels like I'm not making any progress. "Oh, really, you're still going to have a tantrum over that? Remember how well that worked out for you yesterday?" Day by day. Week by week, being a parent can be exhausting and discouraging. But you are making progress. You can't see it in the immediate, but nothing great ever was accomplished overnight. Stay strong, mamas, I see the work you do everyday. We may not be perfect all of the time, but for the most part, we chug along diligently. Your diligent and patient work with be blessed.