Hi, My name is Kelly!
I began this site as an antidote to the perfect mom bloggers our there. You know the ones…they’re the ladies with the impossibly perfect highlights (the ones that grow out in 1.5 weeks unless carefully maintained), they lost all their baby weight overnight without having to work up a bead of swear on their seemingly poreless skin and somehow manage to find the time to blog/instagram/tween their fancy cocktails imbibed during glamourous girls nights with their equally skinny and privledged friends. When they return home they blog/instagram/tweet (henceforth abbreviated to B.I.T.) a sweet picture of their entirely too handsome husbands (you know the ones, who walk around in threadbare grey t-shirts with their douchey fraternity letters on the front) cuddling with their adorable children in their Pottery Barn perfect homes. These bitches pin things on Pinterest and then do them! Don’t get me started on the meals they serve their families on just a random weeknight! What the fuck is a sunchoke and why does your one year old ‘Luuuuuuurve’ them?!
The children of these goddesses are littleangelbabiessentfromheaven in carefully curated outfits. The cost of a single designer onesie would no doubt cover an entire season of my wardrobe from Target (culled from the sale rack, naturally). They even provide you with a clickable link so you could take out a second mortgage and then get one for your Stainmaster of a child. So thoughtful! These Mama’s never feature photos of red faced babies with rivulets of snot running down their faces, because their children don’t cry! When met with a firm (but kind) ‘No MacKenzye (Kennedie, Dalton, Familyname)’, their children become as calm as Hindu cows and graciously relinquish their arguments. No sense wrinkling their linens and mussing up ones hair when there’s an expensive camera around. Why also, do these mom bloggers seem to have better equipment than an AP Photographer?! They’re toting around fancy cameras you could evenly trade a Ford Focus for, whereas I can’t go a year without throwing my iPhone into a restaurant toilet/dirty diaper/business end of a running snowblower? Yes… My technology are fraught with strange demises, you’ll learn more about that in time.
I’ll be honest; Most nights we eat whatever I can cobble together after an 11 hour day. These perfect Mamas would NEVER even THINK about serving their cherubs macaroni and cheese from a box. FUCK NO. They’ve gone to the farm and MET the cow which helped create the artisan cheeses that they hand shredded (from a bag? :::eyeroll::::) on the grater that they inherited from their great grandmother. She’s also the one who bequeathed the apron that the PM (Perfect Momma) wears when she makes these culinary masterpieces. They’re all organic, free range and up to date on the latest trendy grains.
I decided on ‘Mostly Awesome Mama’ because the MOMENT I found out I was pregnant I ran to the internets to read about firsthand experiences from women just like me.
Ha. Just like me. Riiiiiiiiight.
I found few Mamas willing to be open and honest about the realities of being thrust into motherhood. The moment your baby exits the womb, your life changes and it isn’t always wine and roses (can it be more wine? Plllllleeeeeasssssseeee?!). What I seemed to keep encountering were these women who seemed to be so ‘lucky’, and when my life didn’t go as such I thought I was doing something wrong. When I couldn’t continue breastfeeding because at nine months my little shark had a mouth-full of needle sharp puppy teeth, I went to a Mom Forum and asked for advice. I said I was ready to quit and so many women gave me the internet stink-eye for my decision. You know what? I wasn’t feeling like playing some weird game of Russian Roulette with baby bear-trap jaws and my areolas anymore. Why not reply with a sincere, “I’ve been there…You’re doing a great job.” ?
That’s what this blog is about ladies. It’s the anti PM-blog. It’s about embracing the imperfections, understanding that we’re all fighting the good fight, and that we want the best for our families. Sometimes it’s about cracking a bottle of wine, ripping open a blue box of Kraft Macaroni and cheese and telling one another:
“I’ve been there…You’re going a great job.”