what the hell is this

If you're not sure wtf, start here!

omg hi. Firstly, I need to explain that when I type “omg,” in my head it sounds like “ohmigah” and it’s more fun + idk casual sounding I guess, than your standard “oh-em-gee!” This isn’t an “oh-em-gee” kind of space, and if that makes sense to you then we are kindreds and I welcome you with a smirk and raised eyebrow.

Now that we’ve gotten THAT out of the way, I’m Sara and I’m a snarky bitch and I love to speak irreverently about how the 2 children I made from scratch with my very awesome man-piece (aka husband) are the actual worst and ruin everything!

Here’s a quick sample of what having kids has done to me, and for me: gave me an anxiety disorder, a light dose of depression, an extra 40 pounds*, additional arguments with that guy I married who I supposedly love, ruined some of my favorite furniture, broke a very expensive gold necklace (playdoh related! cool!), caused me to cry repeatedly on a sometimes-daily basis, given me Hand, Food, and Mouth disease (fun!), given me all manner of whatever nasty viruses they carry around with them like 2002 me carried LipSmackers, wrecked my pelvic floor and SI joint, and prevented no less than 3 wedding attendances, a bachelorette party, any number of long weekends away with friends or man-piece, and potentially an annual escape to an all-inclusive tropical resort. 

None of this is science (except for the anxiety disorder and the hormones and the pelvic floor I guess - those are like, actual science), and none of this is fact-checked.

And potentially most importantly, none of this means I don’t love my kids more than whatever I’m supposed to love them more than (my own life? my dog? little debbie cakes?). My boys are awesome and I made them and I love them and I also love the dude I made them with. Our life is joyous, hilarious, fun, privileged, and abundant in many ways. So if you’re reading this and you’re like omg (again, it’s: ohmigah or ohmuhguh maybe) this chick is mean and terrible and I can’t believe she…stop reading and kindly go elsewhere. Peace be with you, and with your spirit.

What I hope for this space is to build a place where I share all the nonsense in my own life and we all get to agree that …kids are the worst! Because they are! And we can bond over knowing shit like: it’s not just you! my kid is also nasty! my house is messy too! There is mashed sweet potato on my ceiling! I also am bad at cooking! I also don’t know what to say when my kid screams across the playground that MAMA MY PENUS HURTS! 

So yeah, you’re not alone, I’m not alone, we’re all doing a great job, and we all love our kids A LOT and probably even THE MOST. But, sorry not sorry (are we still doing that?) they’re the worst. 

Check out my 4 part essay (lol) I wrote on my first kid’s second birthday: all about how babies are hard, having one isn’t for everyone, and what to do if you have one and you’re still kinda not sure you really wanted to do this whole kid thing. 

Then read this beauty all about how the hell to relax when everything is stressful, anxiety-inducing, traumatic, activating, or triggering in some way. Life’s TOUGH but we can do hard things. 

ps if you’re really into this

I’d love to have you as a founding subscriber. You’ll get access to everything I write - which will get to be a big digital pile, I imagine, and you’ll get voice notes and a vlog I plan to attempt this year.