Nothing says “I’m ready for a New Year” like a string of holiday festivities spent with the people in your life you had zero control in choosing, and even less desire to spend that much time with.
Between the creepy relatives, overindulgence of pie and alcohol, and your kids spending weeks being gushed over like they are part of the royal family, everyone in the house needs a serious sage detox before it’s too late.
If you’ve made it through Christmas you’re probably looking at your tree now barren of gifts and wondering how the fuck you manage to do this year after year without committing yourself.
Your bank account is empty, your stockings are ripped down from their expertly placed hook and now strewn on the floor like the rest of the abandoned socks in your house, and the Christmas tree is dropping pine needles like your kids drop crumbs of food on your freshly vacuumed carpet.
You NEED. A. BREAK.
Since it’s still the season of below freezing temps and frostbite, no one wants to leave the house anyway. Here are some solid ways you can get your energy and self-esteem back right in the comfort of your very own home:
Create an In-Home Spa Sanctuary– The first thing you’ll want to 
do is really set the scene for healing. Any space can be transformed for optimal soul rejuvenation with the right tools. Establish aromatherapy by collecting your most soothing essential oils (or just your favorite hairspray will do) and spritz the area to create a fragrance of something other than dirty underwear and soggy dog. You can lather yourself in lavender body lotion for added calming effects, but if you don’t have that, Aveeno can have remarkable therapeutic effects.
You probably don’t keep candles in your house anymore, because, kids. So just take your kids’ iPad and drape your most used towel with the worn thread count over it to create an ambiance of mood lighting to help get your mind right. You can really amp up the tranquil atmosphere in your home by adding some plush robes and fancy tea to this relaxation ritual. But since you’re a mom now, you already know you can’t have nice things, instead throw on one of your husband’s over-sized t-shirts and reheat your coffee in the microwave. Let’s get this party started.
Massage – I know, you’re thinking I’ll never have the time. But, alas, you birthed the essential tool to complete this spa staple. I’m sure you’ve heard of cupping and hot stone massages, but have you ever 
tried tiny feet shoved into the small of your back while you’re trying to relax on the couch? It really loosens the joints and muscles allowing for optimal rejuvenation and removal of those nasty toxins. Your kids will likely not even need to complete a lesson on how to effectively apply desired pressure during this technique, but just in case, maybe you should kick them first so they get a thorough demonstration? It will aid in your overall wellness goal.
Facial Masks – Yogurt masks are a thing. Whether or not they are supposed to come straight out of your refrigerator is another story, but hey… minor details we can overlook. I find GoGurts work well for this because they have a sweet taste and a delightful color. Just take the whole tube and spread that sucker all over your face canvas. It’s cool and refreshing straight out of your refrigerator and if it gets on the furniture, you can assume there was already a spread of some food there before you got there. If you can’t beat em, join em?
Mani/Pedi – This one is tricky, but it’s 
definitely doable. Get your least favorite towel and the LIGHTEST shade you can find and announce to your toddler it’s time to play “nails”. She will jump all over the chance to reenact her favorite YouTube videos of grown adults playing with toys and talking in baby voices. If you’re really brave, you can let her do your fingers too. It buys you another three minutes to “relax” while she paints your entire hand in an overwhelming scent of shimmery chemicals that will take an entire bottle of acetone to remove. But hey, self-care is important, right?
Take a bath – You have two options here. You can either opt to knowingly allow your kids to destroy your house while you lock yourself in the bathroom with threats of decades-long grounding if they even THINK about bothering you (someone BETTER BE BLEEDING!). Or, you can go the more conservative route and slap your bathing suit onto your still detoxing post-holiday pie body and round up the little monsters for a family bath. The kids will think it’s a blast while you sit and enjoy a lukewarm tub filled with bubblegum flavored bath bombs and your child’s urine. Be extra efficient and apply your GoGurt bath just before you embark on this endeavor. That way you effectively wash it off while your kids splash water all over your bathroom floor with your tears.
Getting through the holidays can be B.R.U.T.A.L. But that doesn’t mean you can’t find time to recharge your mind and body and start the New Year off with a soul rejuvenating BANG. Everyday household items can be easily transformed to spa tranquility staples with just a few simple steps. Make it a “fun for the whole family” kind of event and get the kids involved in this DIY dumpster fire and before you know it your house will be filled with yogurt, bubbles, and nail polish just like any other day of the week. Except for this time, you’ll have lavender scented skin and iPad induced mood lighting to push through. And think of all the money you’ll save by dishing out your very own sanity instead! You’ll be wondering why you don’t do the home spa thang more often!
And keep in mind, if all else fails, there’s always Benedryl. And wine.
Nama-stay home, you got this!
If you enjoyed this check out some of my other humor pieces here:
2018’s Hot Toys Guide For (Sarcastic) Parents
So Many Parts Of Parenting I Did NOT See Coming
5 Things I Learned About Dating Apps – A Cautionary Tale
Why I Don’t Let Santa Take Credit For The Good Gifts
Like many, Christmas is one of my favorite holidays. It got especially magical after I had kids. I can’t wait to see their little faces light up on Christmas morning with delight as they burst out of their bedrooms with anticipation to see if Santa actually came.
You know, the man in red with the jolly disposition and the mystical elves that make toys from scratch and report back to the North Pole every night fueled on “cheer”. The man who somehow manages to make it across the entire world in one night living solely off of milk and cookies and Christmas spirit.
I love Santa. I love the idea of Santa. And I love that my kids think that Santa is magic. It adds an extra element to Christmas that fills them (and me) with intoxicating excitement every year. What I refuse to play into is that Santa shows up with the expensive, hard to find gifts and mom and dad bring things like socks and pjs.
The concept surrounding Santa and his reindeer ALONE is one that I think brings hope and enchantment to kids lives during Christmastime.
If we can get them to believe that there is a human being in this world who flies with wingless, hooved animals (one of which has a light bulb on his face), who lives in a hidden land that you can’t find on a map and has an entire staff of tiny, pointy earred people who have not yet managed to go on strike for being forced into overtime and being overworked, and have to do it all in dangerous conditions of freezing cold and hyper active machines throwing paint and nails…. well, I think we’ve done our jobs getting them to believe.
Isn’t that enough?
I work my ass of every year to make sure my kids have a good Christmas. To make sure that they are delivered just as many presents as their friends and they aren’t lacking in all of the “hot items” that they desperately asked for. For a month straight I live off of coffee and evergreen fumes trying to scrape together pennies to bring my little ones the MOST joy I can on the mindblowing morning called Christmas. I become a ninja of gift hiding, wrapping, and assembling. On Christmas Eve, I morph into a woman who doesn’t need sleep, hydration, or daylight to survive and I spend HOURS setting up an entire display for my kids to enjoy when they wake up at the ass crack of dawn because… SANTA!
Did I mention I love Christmas? I really do.
It’s all worth it. It is. BUT, I will be damned if I am going to go through the hell of November and December’s lead up to the big day and let the fat guy in the red suit take all of the credit for the gifts that I had to fist fight someone over in Target because it was the last one on the shelf. NO. WAY.
I want my kids to have the magic of Christmas in their very own homes every year. But I also want them to appreciate the season for what MATTERS. Gifts are great. Getting gifts as a kid is one of the most exciting parts of Christmas, but plenty of kids DO NOT get gifts and if they do they aren’t nearly as cool, high tech, or expensive as some of the gifts my kids have gotten over the years.
How do I explain to my kids that some kids (the ones who really need the miracle) don’t get what is on their list from a man who theoretically brings presents to ALL kids that are good? Do I tell them those kids are bad? What makes those kids less deserving? Nothing.
How do I explain that if we have had a year when money is tight that Santa suddenly doesn’t have the “disposable income” to supply the mountain of gifts he has in recent years? I can’t. Not without them losing some faith in the big guy.
Plus, I’m trying to raise responsible and grateful humans who understand the value of material things and what it takes to make and spend money. Christmas happens to throw all of that out the window for the weeks leading up, and at least a good month after.
The holiday comes and suddenly they become entitled brats (albeit adorable ones) who deserve the world just because they exist because for weeks family and friends have been showering them with gifts. And that is WITH me giving the best gifts from mom. If they thought Santa brought those? I imagine the priveleged attitude they carry would be slightly worse, and last a little longer.
It’s because of these reasons 
that my kids get the good presents from me. Call me selfish, but I want the credit. I want my kids to know that I worked hard to make sure that they got that one thing on their list they really wanted.
I want my kids to see that even though I might have missed a few important sports games or school events, it’s because I was working. Working to make sure we have a roof over our heads and our bills get paid and also so that I could do things like buy them the iPod they really wanted for Christmas. I want them to know that even when I was exhausted and stressed out I might not have seemed like it, but I was in fact listening to them when they mentioned a cool toy they had played with at a friend’s that they wish they had for themselves.
I want my kids to understand that Christmas IS magical, and there are TWO people that make it so. Santa, and ME. Maybe I’m a little self-serving, but I’ve noticed since I’ve started switching the tags around on Christmas and marking the extra special gifts from me, my kids have a new appreciation for their packages under the tree.
I have a better explanation for kids that may not get the same number or types of gifts as them or why our Christmas haul may vary year after year. And I don’t have to stress about remembering which gifts came from Santa and which didn’t when something doesn’t work correctly and I have to try to come up with some outlandish story about how I’m going to phone in to the North Pole to get a replacement.
If you ask me, the magic of Santa lies in my kids believing. Believing that there is someone watching them, rooting for them, willing to marvel them with his abilities every year because he loves little kids. He does it all in one night because he’s spectacular. And he brings things they will love and play with for the whole year (hopefully).
But the big ticket stuff, the gift that they requested for MONTHS, the one that cost a small fortune and will bring the biggest smile and the most thanks? That one comes from Mom. Move over Santa, I’m soaking up the cred over here. You already have a group of elves to do your bidding, I’m all on my own.
New Moms Don’t Hear Enough Of These Useless Comments
There are quite a few babies coming in my family this year. None of which happen to be mine (thank you, sweet baby Jesus for watching over me with your love and protection).
But it got me thinking about how I missed the days of sniffing my baby’s head while they drifted off to sleep in my arms. The smell of new human breath mixed with sour milk and a dirty diaper. I mean, I can’t even say the bad smells were all that bad when I got to inhale the scent of a new baby all day long. (Is it obvious that even the THOUGHT of new baby smell has my ovaries screaming over here?)
So as I sit reminiscing about the “good ole days” of sleepless nights, cracked nipples, and the world’s cutest wails, I keep thinking about all of the things people said to me during those first couple days and weeks of having a new baby in the house. And why they all remind me that I am SO grateful to not be the new mom to be this time around.
Every new mom has heard these at least once, probably more than once, but definitely not enough times, because we all need some serious cliche’s from the visitors who come when we least want them to fuel our first days living with a newborn, amiright?
Here are some of my faves. (Feel free to add on your own worst nightmares in the comments)
Sleep when the baby sleeps.
This is not a new joke. I have seen MANY variations of this ridiculous advice being poked fun at, for ample reasons. It’s a joke to think that you can sleep on demand, not to mention, babies sleep A LOT, it just so happens that zero of those hours happen to be during the times that you are also tired. It’s basically scientifically proven that as soon as your baby decides to konk out, you will get a second (or third, or fourth) wind and begin feverishly trying to finish any housework you’ve neglected while you were too busy sniffing your babies head. Or, you will decide to finally take a snooze (because… you really do need it) and the SECOND that kid senses you unconscious they will wake up in a fit of rage and hunger reminding you that the rest of your life will be on constant demand to whatever this tiny living being requires. What if the new baby has an older brother or sister? Is there some magical fairy that will make certain they also sleep when the baby sleeps too? Or should you just pretend those kids don’t exist during those precious moments? I’m going to need some serious clarification of this solid advice you have to give.
If you think this is bad… wait until they are OLDER!
Oh, thanks, Susan. So you’re telling me that I should just give up on this parenting thing now because it’s hopeless? How exactly do I go about returning this purchase for a full refund of my blown out vagina and brand spankin new stretch marks? Can I possibly bitch about my CURRENT hell without someone terrifying me by debunking my theory that at some point this WILL get better???!!!
When are you going back to work?
Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that learning how to take care of a completely helpless and 10000% dependant HUMAN BEING wasn’t considered actual work. How stupid of me. Right now I’m questioning when I am going to get my bowel movements back without excruciating discomfort, but I’m sure work will be the next thing on my mind. Right after I clean up this shit blowout and finish my google research desperately seeking the most effective way to help my baby latch so I can stop feeling like my nipples have been clamped by some medieval torture device for the past three hours. I was just thinking about the anticipation I’m filled with to see the reaction on all of my coworkers’ faces when I walk in with an unwashed topknot and wrinkled (probably dirty) shirt covered in spit up and my own drool.
Are you sure he is yours? He doesn’t look ANYTHING like you!
Just GTFO of my house, mmk? What is that supposed to mean? Babies look like tiny naked molerats when they are born and literally nothing else. If a baby came out looking like a 30 something-year-old wrinkly woman with dark circles, saggy boobs, and a spare tire/muffin top, I would have some genuine concerns for his health. So the fact that my baby looks NOTHING like me is encouraging to me that things are going to be just fine for this kid. But thanks for the confidence boost, I promise she’s mine. I have the perineum stitches to prove it, would you like to see them? You sure?
You need SLEEP! You look so tired!
NO SHIT? Is that all? I’ve been wondering what could possibly be causing these dark circles, constant caffeine cravings, and perpetual yawns. Now I know, it’s just MOTHERHOOD. I look tired because I. AM. TIRED. If you are going to say anything even remotely close to this to a new mom, you should make sure you’re about to follow it up with “let me watch the baby for a little bit while you go take a nap.” Otherwise, you’re just a complete ass-clown lacking common courtesy who doesn’t deserve to sit and smell someone’s new baby heaven. Go home; you’re rude.
Aren’t you so happy/excited/in love?
Honestly? No. I’m miserable. But I am also exploding with adoration and pride and a million other overwhelming emotions that I can’t quite put my finger on because I am so fucking tired I can’t THINK. But unless you want to hear about the good, bad, and the ugly, please don’t ask questions that Society norms force me to answer with a bold-faced lie.
Is the baby always this fussy/dry/tired/ WHATEVER?
Unless you are a pediatrician, please refrain from making ANY remarks to a new a parent that could lead them to question there might be something wrong. Every new mom is already overwhelmed with the idea that they were sent home with an entirely dependant stranger who’s sole existence relies on them. They don’t need any reason to build concern and add on to their seemingly endless mounds of anxiety-inducing facts they are finding.
Are you done? Are you having another one soon?
I’ve heard both of these. After I had one (or two) people then would ask me if I was done having kids shortly after the birth of my third. Because apparently the news had circulated that maybe being a mom wasn’t my best quality and I should probably stop procreating. Nothing makes you feel genuinely concerned about your parenting skills than someone asking you if you are ready to stop having kids because they seem to know something you don’t. It’s none of ya damn business. Don’t ask this question.
I’m sure there are plenty more here that I have not covered, but if you’re like me and about to meet a new baby, make sure you keep these in mind. New moms don’t get enough discouraging, useless, and overall bad advice. Please, adorn them with your best nonsense because having a newborn at home is really boring. You are basically stuck inside with nothing to do but feed, clean, soothe, and change the baby while obsessing about every noise, yelp, cry and quiet sound they make. It’s a cake walk, really.
Why I Showed My Kids My Tears During My Divorce
Some things happen in this life that whether in our control or not, are heartbreaking. Things that occur that we wish we could take back, or do differently.
Things that can break us, if we let them.
When I was divorcing my children’s father, I cried. A lot. Often. It was a depressing time for our family and my self-esteem. There were days when my 1-year-old would ask why I was so sad all of the time, and times when my oldest would cry with me because he was sad too.
And it’s because of that – I don’t regret my sheer rawness with my kids, because if I had a chance to do it all over again, I would. And I would do it the same.
Here’s why:
- People get sad. It’s part of life. People cry. Man or woman, young or old, you are going to shed some tears at some point in your life, and I don’t ever want my kids to think that crying is something to be ashamed of or something they should do in private because I never cried in front of them.I want my kids to see that being sad is part of being human, and it’s ok. If they are sad, depressed, or struggling, I want them to know that this is something people experience, as human beings, and it is OK.
- I want my kids to see that despite my sadness, I still did what I needed to do. I got up; I got dressed, I put “my face on” and I left the house. Whether I was taking them to school or dragging myself to work, I made sure not to neglect {too many} responsibilities. Even if it felt like I was dusting myself off and going back out into the world that I felt was swallowing me whole.They saw me crying earlier in the morning, but they also saw me pull myself together and take care of my responsibilities. I made dinner, I cleaned. I may have shed tears in between, but life went on, and it was vital for me to show them that.
- I wanted my kids to know that their parent’s divorce was sad for me, too. I knew they were struggling. They couldn’t wrap their tiny heads around why this was happening and why things just couldn’t go back to the way they were. And I wanted them to see that I felt their pain too.Maybe not in the same way, but we were in this together, as a family. By sharing my sadness openly with them, I hoped it would encourage them to do the same with me. And in many ways it did.
It also opened the door for us to have some cathartic conversations about what this change meant for our family, how we could get through this as a team, and what the future was going to look like for us.
- Maybe most importantly, I wanted to show my kids later that there is life after sadness. Because you have the tools to change your life and how you react to it, but you must DO it. I wanted them to see that even if something happens in life that feels like it could be the end of the world, feels like it IS the end of the world, it doesn’t have to be. At least not forever.We are allowed to have our feelings, to feel our experiences, but we also have to take responsibility for our happiness. To do the work to dig ourselves out of the crippling sadness that is tearing us apart inside. I wanted my kids to see me do this so one day they can remember that our family experienced a dreadful event, and it hurt like hell, but we found love in each other, and we climbed out of the depths of depression together, and are stronger now because of it.
That even if you feel like a devastating event cripples you, eventually, life WILL go on. And when that happens, you can be better; you can be someone with pride and resilience. Because you cried because you allowed yourself to feel the hurt, the pain, and the sadness but also to use it as a motivator to stop feeling sad.
I didn’t make a conscious effort to cry in front of my children at first. I was so overwhelmed with emotions and pain that it happened. In the beginning, I would be lying if I said I didn’t question how raw and open I should be with them about this.
I didn’t share intimate details of my divorce experience with my children, of course. But I did share some of my pain, most of my sadness, and a whole bunch of my tears. And if I had to do this all again, that is the one thing I would not change.
It brought us closer together. Helped us heal as a family, and gave me a chance to have some conversations with my kids. Ones that might not have happened so naturally, so organically, had I not given them the opportunity to see me struggling and in pain.
As parents, I think we tend to question the way we handle situations with our kids. Did we do this right? Could we have done better? Should I have or have not said this or done that? I can honestly say, this is one of those parenting moments that brings zero regrets.
5 Things People With Sleep Paralysis Have Experienced
Sleep paralysis is the embodiment of my worst fear. Being able to hear, see, and experience the world around you… but not being able to move, speak, or interact. Feeling stuck, but aware.
Sleep paralysis makes going to bed a fucking nightmare.
Until you’ve had this experience yourself, you don’t quite grasp the magnitude of the immobilizing terror, but once you do it’s something you’ll never forget.
- It feels like there is someone in the room with you
Many people who have sleep paralysis have claimed to feel a “presence.” Whether it be an actual person or a shadowy figure lurking in the corner of the room, on the ceiling, or standing beside them, it’s a typical report. For me, it was always someone without a face. A person(ish) being that was standing in my doorway, didn’t talk, didn’t move. He just stood there. Letting me feel his presence. How frightening is that?
- Feeling like you aren’t breathing
You are. You don’t stop breathing, but anxiety takes over, and for a minute (or longer) you have the sensation that you have completely stopped breathing and horror takes over. I’ve learned after years of experiencing this phenomenon on and off that the best way to end this is to try to talk myself into a calm state. To remind myself that I CAN still take breaths, even if I can’t move the rest of my body.
- You are
completely paralyzed
It’s the strangest thing because there are moments where you certainly feel as if you are flailing your arms about in a fury. A desperate attempt to hit someone near you in a frantic call for help. You try to scream, reach, MOVE and you simply can’t. The first time this happened, it was excruciating because I had convinced myself I WAS moving. It wasn’t until I realized that I was, in fact, stuck, that the real terror began.
- Wondering if this is the end
If you haven’t had the pleasure of commonly experiencing sleep paralysis you may consider this to be the way you go. It’s the end; it’s over. This is how I die. But, according to research, sleep paralysis is relatively common and is usually not a sign of any significant physical or psychological disorder but could be a sign that you need to catch up on some zzz’s. There are instances where sleep paralysis can be a symptom of an underlying psychological disorder or a condition such as narcolepsy or sleep apnea, but it’s more likely you’re overtired and not getting enough sleep.
- Reoccurrences in the same night
The gift that keeps on giving. Sleep paralysis can happen over and over again in the same night. Unless you break the sleep cycle your body is in, you will fall right back into the same sleep pattern, thus leading you right back into the conscious paralyzed state. My personal best is seven. Seven times I went right back into a sleep state coupled with a frozen body and a floating “thing” on my ceiling before I finally drifted off to dreamland.
The first few times I was faced with this chilling state, I was petrified. The good news is, after some time you start to learn tricks on how to handle the situation until it passes.
I have learned that getting up THE FIRST TIME, and walking around, moving, helps to recharge and restart my sleep cycle so that {hopefully} the next time I drift off I will cycle smoothly into a deep sleep.
I have also learned that starting with small wiggles of the toes, cheeks, or mouth seem to be the best way to wake myself up.
You just have to find your body’s trick, and you’ll be able to focus less on fear, and more on the tactics you know will help get you out of this state. And you can remind yourself that you’re not dying, you’re just one of the “lucky ones.”
