Being a teenager is hard. Along with all the responsibilities and expectations, you also have a raging set of hormones. Making your skin break out, making you cry because you can’t find your other shoe, making you feel like YOU basically have no control over YOU anymore.

I remember those days….long, long, long, long ago. Felt like nothing I did was right and my self esteem was the size of a gnat. It sucked. Now, looking back, I realize that my teenage years were some of the best years of my life. I did so much. I had so many friends. Remembering moments from that time, I feel like they were more from a movie and not my life. Those years were filled with so many memories I still think back on today.

So, it’s kinda funny seeing my oldest daughter, Gianna, entering her teenage years. She’s becoming a woman and it’s pretty cool… and scary, and weird, all at the same time.

My hands are purple and I don’t know how to get the color off. It’s all because I’m a sucker for guilt and Evie was primed and ready to pee on my counter.

I was standing in line the other day, waiting to go inside to watch Scarlett’s cheer showcase. We were outside and I had just eaten dinner about 30 minutes prior. Standing there, in the crowd, I realized … I had to fart.

So I did. Since having 3 kids, I’ve been pretty lax with my bodily functions. At this point in my life, what wants to come out, comes out. However, I didn’t expect it to be noticeable. Gauging the pressure in my…er, rear, I thought it would be relatively quiet and easy to cover the noise given the crowd.

Wrong. It made a sound. Not a loud, ripping sound or anything like that. But, a sound nonetheless. Did anyone hear? I casually glance back like the chicken in the picture above and from my peripheral vision, I think I caught the people behind me staring. 

I walked downstairs the other night to tell the girls it was time for bed. As I made my way into the kitchen, I overheard the TV show they were watching. In the span of 15 seconds the show talked about porn, sex, and threesomes.

Uh, WT actual F?!

I see all these posts about “how do I explain {insert touchy subject} to my kids”. It seems like a lot of parents out there agonize over how to tell their children about the hard truths in life. Like what’s going on in the world, how someone really died, or even about elements of their past.

I don’t get this. This fear of talking about adult topics, about your history, or about things that are taboo/sad/scary. For me, it’s simple really. I just tell them the truth. I am as honest and descriptive as I can be, based on their age and understanding of course.

If you don’t care to hear more about milk, boobs, and the agony I’ve been in for the past month or so, carry on. If you want to commiserate with me and talk about milk supply and clogged ducts, keep on reading friends.