Since it is National Breastfeeding week I thought I should talk about boobs so brace yourself.

And if the word “boobs” or just breastfeeding in general freaks you out then I only have one thing to say to you:

Calm your tits.

Give those breasts a rest.

Your honkers need to stop going bonkers.

And don’t have a calamity in your mammaries.

They are just boobs. In fact there are more nipples in the world than people if you think about it.

To be completely honest, I wish breastfeeding is something that everyone in the world has to experience because there is so much to it. Kind of like gym class in high school. I love it, I hate it, I want to do it forever, I want to stop this second, and I feel as though no one truly understands.

The thing about being a mom is that everyone feels the right to have a say in what you are doing. I am five months in of exclusively breastfeeding my little one and I have heard it all from family to friends to people online that I have never meant before.

“Why are you so against formula?”, “Are you going to be one of those people who like breastfeeds till they are like seven years old?”, “I feel so uncomfortable when I see people with their boobs just hanging out”, “She looks pretty tiny, maybe you should start giving her some formula to bulk her up”, “Isn’t it kind of selfish that you are always feeding her and not letting others bond with her too?”, and my personal favorite “I would never breastfeed because of what my boobs would look like after”.

Yup. These are real life, real people saying real stupid stuff to someone whose hormones are still on the fritz from bring a life into this real crazy world.

At first, after hearing all of these things I thought “wow I am wondering where all of these people found the time to go and get their medical degrees because they seem to know an awful lot about raising babies”.

Just because someone breastfeeds does not mean they are against formula. My son had formula from five weeks to one year old and he is perfectly fine and healthy. I tried breastfeeding with my son and it wasn’t in the cards for us and that was completely fine. Fed is best not breast is best.

Just because someone breastfeeds does not mean they like their boobs hanging out. I personally can’t even make eye contact when I am getting measured by that lady at Victoria Secret so if you honestly think I enjoy feeding my baby in public so people can see my boobs, you are mistaken. I am actually chanting “chug chug chug” frat party style to her so she eats faster and people can stop staring at me.

Just because someone breastfeeds does not make them selfish and not want to share their baby. I would love if my husband’s nipples produced liquid gold like mine do. I would cry tears of joy if in the middle of the night instead of me walking up to feed our daughter, he rolled over, whispered to me “don’t worry babe I got this” and whipped out a magic milk producing boob and fed our daughter, but that day has yet to come.

Just because someone breastfeeds does not mean their body is ruined. It is actually the full course of motherhood that does a number on your body and you can’t give all the credit to just breastfeeding.

Pregnancy stretches your body in directions that only you, God, and your OBGYN know about. My belly has been through the ringer with my two little bundles of joy that at five months since the great escape with baby number two, my stomach is like a personal awning for my lady parts.

My hair now does this crazy thing since becoming a mom where it is actually turning grey around my ears. Pretty crazy since I’m only in my twenties but it’s like natures personal mom highlights.

My boobs can also do this pretty cool trick of making me go from a DD Pamela Anderson size to president of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee in just one feeding.

The human body is such a crazy and just plain freaking awesome thing that we shouldn’t feel uncomfortable and embarrassed about it. We can literally grow people and nourish them in our bodies for nine months- or a whole forty-two weeks if you are like me and have the warmest womb ever. Why is it so not accepted that we are amazing enough to nourish our little homegrown humans outside the womb too?

So the next time you see someone breastfeeding, don’t judge. Give them a coffee because chances are their husband’s boobs can’t do the same thing that theirs can do at 2am and give them some credit.

And just Hakuna your tatas.

Its just boobs.




The Journey Begins

I honestly love to write and am really excited to start this whole blog journey with whomever wants to join along; moms or not. Basically, I want to just take a minute to enjoy my stories and the memories they bring when smooshed together.

My plan is to stop and smell the roses every once in a while and take some time to gather some words together to help paint a picture of the current chaos that life hands us and celebrate the craziness as the days go by.

So heres to sharing thoughts, dreams, and moments lived all put into words by a mom who is just trying her best one day at a time.

– Em


Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton




It probably comes up in conversation atleast 8,763 times a day when you are a parent.

If you have a newborn and they are cranky: “She hasn’t pooped yet so that’s probably why she’s a small satan.”

If you have an infant and they just started eating food: “Oh my gosh I changed his diaper after he ate blueberries for the first time and I swear I have never seen a poop smurf colored before today!”

If you have a toddler who doesn’t have a shy bone in his body: “I just made the biggest poop in the potty ever!” (toddler tells to stranger in the stall next to us in public rest room).

And my favorite is if you have a husband: “I will, after I poop.”

I swear when Matt and I first started living together, he would do things just to push my buttons. Like take his little black socks off when he got home after work and fling them like little granades all across the living room. He would leave enough half drunk drinks next to his bed to stop any and all droughts in the world. But the thing that bugged me the most was when I would ask him to help with something and he would reply “I will, after I poop”.

At first, I thought that he must just be eating quite a bit of fiber, but then I caught on to the pattern. It used to make steam come out of my ears when I would ask him to hold the baby while I finished cleaning up dinner and I would get that stupid poop response.

Why can’t I just sit on the toilet for twenty minutes without interuption?

Why does he not get a toddler storming in the second he closes that door?

Why does this always happen when I need help with something?

But then I started asking myself why does it bug me so stinking much that he take twenty minutes to himself?

The fact of the matter is I was so hung up on those twenty mintues without him there and then I started to think about what if he wasn’t there at all.

What would I honestly do without him? What if he wasn’t in the picture at all let alone twenty mintues? How would I wake up and face the next day knowing that I would have to face the life I laid before me alone?

I know what you’re thinking. This is a lot to ponder just because someone went to the bathroom, but hey a lot goes through your mind in twenty minutes.

Simply, being a parent/spouse is just plain easier together. That means accepting each other for everything and anything. I am positive that Matt has a secret hate for the small village of decorative pillows I place on the bed everyday and he isn’t a fan of when I cook seafood in the house. But he looks at it as I am cooking seafood to feed our little family and he’s thankful I make the bed everyday.

Those little black socks he leaves all over my living room are there because he worked a really long day providing for his family. And to be completely honest I haven’t fully found the good in the million half filled glasses next to my bed- but maybe someday I will.

So next time your spouse gives the age old response “After I poop”; just smile, use those twenty minutes to think about how much they do for you, and remember that everyone poops.