I started this investigation for myself and after everything I found, I have to share. The fact of the matter is I don’t just want to be able to defend myself, my kids, and my home; I don’t want to ever be in the position where I have to. My goal is to get you guys protected, so you don’t have to defend.
A little backstory for this letter comes from a promise I made myself last year around this time. It sounds so cliche, but turning 30 used to really freak me out. Even two years ago I dreaded that number. 10 years ago I would have told you I’ll be lucky to even see 30. So last year on my 30th birthday I promised myself that 30 would be MY year. I was going to do everything that I had wanted to try, but was afraid to. I was going to make 30-year-old Sarah the best Sarah. In following through with this promise to myself, I had to do a lot of uncomfortable things. Reflect on my past self and really own the mistakes that hindered me from truly loving my present self. To say 365 days is enough time to accomplish all of that would be a lie. But, the first step is always the hardest, and self-reflection is a big bad jerk-off.
“To understand who you are; you have to understand who you’ve been.”
Dear 20-year-old Sarah,
I am your older wiser self, I beg you to listen to my advice, but I know you won’t because you are an extremely stubborn young lady.
I recently received a text from an expecting momma reading “soooo I don’t have a birth plan”. When I had my first babe almost 4 years ago birth plans seemed to be just emerging as mainstream. Now you can’t find a pregnancy checklist without the daunting “make a birth plan”, “review your birth plan”, “make multiple copies of your birth plan”, “plaster your birth plan to your vagina”.
So basically, if you don’t have a birth plan you are already a horrible mother. Which is why I had one of course. A birth plan so elaborate and decisive that it would be criminal for me not to share.
Sarah’s Birth Plan
#1. Give me the drugs.
#2. Give me my baby.
I just need to vent about a few things really quick. I’m sure some of you guys can relate and some of you have much bigger problems, so my apologies in advance.
-First of all, my almost 4-year-old has been in pre-school for a full month now. That means for an entire month at least one person in my house has been sick at all times. There has yet to be one day when I don’t get snot smeared on my shirt.
And we made it! Just that I didn’t have a breakdown is a miracle.
” developmental delay ” are the sweetest words I have ever heard.
So as I mentioned in
This is personal writing that I did not intend to share. So the letter below is a very raw piece I wrote to my child. I feel compelled to share all of this now because of the shadow and stigma attached to any child labeled “less than perfect”.
These next few posts were actually not written for this blog, they were just my person pieces, written because that’s how I deal with stress. I decided to blog this part of my life because I think maybe it could help someone else. Also, it is real, true and very relevant to me, and that is what I promise you guys when I write.
So even as I type that I laugh. Why? Because there is nothing “BASIC” about pre-school. My plan was to keep our 3-year old home with me for one more year. Her birthday is late October, so next year pre-school and then on to Kindergarten.
So school has started or is starting in the next day or two. Just a friendly PSA to brush up on your school bus rules. OK, first of all let’s remember when we were kids on the school bus. Yes, that’s right, I didn’t have one of those booshie ass childhoods. I rode the school bus. Yes, kids picked on me and I am semi -traumatized from the school bus, but that is not the point. The point is;