Free St. Patrick's Day Science Lab Activity for Kids

 

St. Patrick's Day Science Lab

A fun, free activity for kids

    Teaching preschool this year has given me lots of excuses to be a little extra when it comes to crafts and other kid activities. But without fail, my older kids come home and ask to do the same activities that I just did with my preschoolers! So this St. Patrick's Day I decided to put together a few fun activities for them, and this science lab activity was a HIT. And good news- you can do all of this with stuff you (probably) have at home. Keep reading for more!

Disclaimer: This post contains affiliate links. Learn more about them here!

Science for all ages

The hardest part of these activities is trying to cater them to all my kids. They range from 3 years to 8 years old, and they are all at such different stages of learning. This turned out to be a really fun and simple idea that kept all of them engaged, which is a huge win in my book!

What you Need

Let's break this into two parts... we'll call it "being extra" and "surviving". Because I think you can do fun kid activities no matter which stage you're in. So...

Being Extra:

• Food Coloring (red, yellow, blue)
• Pipettes (we use these so much!)
• St. Patricks Pots (we got these from Dollar Tree)
• Baking Soda
• Vinegar

Surviving:

• Food Coloring (red, yellow, blue)
• Cups, Bowls, whatever you've got
• Baking Soda
• Vinegar

The Activity... Finally!

A little prep first: click the "download" button below, and print off the two pages for this activity. Or, grab some notebook paper and list 1-10 on each page. Mark each pot (or cup, bowl, whatever you're using) with a number 1-10. Now, you'll just put a couple drops of food coloring in the bottom of each pot, and cover it with some baking soda so you can't see the color. Make sure you write down which colors you used on your "key" paper.

Then fill 3 cups with vinegar and add red to one, yellow to one, and blue to the last. If you don't have pipettes, you can use medicine droppers, or simply pour a little bit of the color.

Have them observe what color it turns and deduce what the first color must have been. (If you added red and it turned orange, it must have been yellow.) The real trick is when they add the same color and have to figure out what that means!

A couple rules we used:

1. Take turns.
2. Each kid had to try each color once.
3. No touching the pots to try to see the color before you've added your vinegar color.

That's it!

In the end, we checked their answers against my answer key. This turned out to be such a fun and simple activity for each of my kids, and it was so cute seeing them work together. And as an added bonus, my son pointed out that these pots of gold look like witch's cauldrons, so guess what we'll be doing for Halloween?

If you want to join us in this quick activity, just click the download button below and happy playing!

20 Ideas to Get 20 Minutes of Reading Every Night

If I know anything about the public school system, it's that your kids came home from the first day of school with the nightly homework of reading for 20 minutes. Obviously I am a huge proponent of reading, but I also want to instill in my kids a LOVE of reading, not just an ability to read. Frankly, I don't know a single kid who likes reading, "Nan ran, Ben sat, Ted talks" (I know what I said) for twenty minutes a night. Luckily, I believe there is a better way! Here are 20 ideas of ways to check off that reading homework box every night without resorting to the "sit at the table and read your baggie book" method.

Play a Word Game

Scrabble, Upwords, and our personal favorite, Letter Tycoon, are all easy ways to get your kid reading without them even realizing what's happening. If you don't have any of these, you can print off or make your own cards with letters on them and play Go Fish to make words.

Stuffed Animal Note

My oldest usually brings his favorite stuffed animal upstairs in the mornings, so she started leaving him notes for when he got home from school. I don't do it every day, but he is always tickled pink to find a note from her. (And bonus, he's in dual immersion this year so I used this note to help him practice a little Spanish.)

Co-op Bedtime Story

As long as my kids want me to read them bedtime stories, I am happy to do it. But now that my oldest can read, I will randomly have him read a paragraph or a page in the middle of the story, usually during a tense moment where he wants to know what happens next. This also works for kids just learning to read- just have them name the letters, say their sounds, or tell you the sight words they know. For older kids, you can switch off reading chapters or tell them you get to be the kid tonight while they read a chapter to you. (Hint: make sure to ask questions as they're reading. Good reading skills aren't just about sounding out words- comprehension is even more important!)

Scripture Study

Let your kids help with nightly scripture study by reading a paragraph or two. The words and language are generally much  harder, so this is a great exercise for their brains! (Same rules as above apply to younger or older kids.)

Write your own story

Play author and write your own stories! I like to cut up printer paper, staple it into a tiny book, and let them go to town. If they need some help, give them a character or idea to run with. My kids love Mo Willems pigeon books, so in the past we've written our own pigeon books to see what shenanigans we can get him up to. (I say "we" because I can't help myself- I am usually making a book with them. They love it and those silly books usually become some of their favorite bedtime stories.)

Play Teacher

Have your kids play teacher to you, younger siblings, or even pets or stuffed animals. Give them a white board to draw on, books to read for story time, and there will be sure to be plenty of reading amidst the playing.

Pass the Parent Test

Read to them- a short story, chapter from a book, anything at all- and then let them write a test for you to take about what you read them. See how close both of you were paying attention!

Read a Bedtime Story to a Sibling

This is adorable and doesn't feel like a chore for them (usually). If they don't have a sibling to read to, let them tuck in a doll or stuffed animal. 

Make a Recipe

Let your kids help with dinner or dessert, and make them read you each ingredient on a recipe card or blog. (Finally, a use for those long drawn-out stories at the beginning of recipe blogs.) 

Write Letters

Send a letter or thank you card to friends or grandparents. Let them write the letter themselves and read it to you when they're done. Usually writing one letter spawns another and another, and who doesn't like getting a good old fashioned letter in the mail?

Help with grocery or to do lists

When you need to add or cross off something from a grocery or to-do list, let your kids do it for you. Have them search for a specific item on the list to cross it off. Plus, this is one less thing for you to do.

Scavenger Hunt

Quick & easy- there are tons of lists online that you can print off and have kids check off as they find things. This one from printablesfairy.com is perfect for Fall.

Detectives

Similar to a scavenger hunt, write clues and hide them throughout the house, one leading to another until they get to a "prize" at the end. This can be as simple as a final note saying "You did it!" Make sure to save the papers to do again in a month or so- they won't remember.

Make a Bucket List

Usually in the summers I will make a summer bucket list that we check off as a family. This year, my six year old made his own bucket list and it turned out to be the cutest thing. It contained just gems as "go outside with mom" (we just had to go stand outside. That was it.) and "do whatever I want." You can get specific and make bucket lists for seasons, holidays, or even just the weekend, or you can make a general bucket list of things they want to do in their lives.

Calendar

Let your kids help you fill in a calendar for the month. Have them add things you have to do, as well as some things they want to do. (Put that bucket list from above to use!)

Check off "want" lists

Birthday, Christmas, groceries... make a list of items and let your kids read through and check off the things they want. Make sure to include gross or silly things they definitely don't want so they don't just check off everything.

Glue Stories

Print off a bunch of random words and let your kids cut them apart and glue them back together into a story. (Kids will do anything if you let them use glue. It's like magic.) Leave blank papers so they can add their own words, and include plenty of  "the" "and", etc. and phrases like "once upon a time" and "The end".

Letter toys

There are so many fun and cute letter toys- resin letters, magnetic letters, foam letters, blocks- but if you don't have any of these, just write letters on individual small pieces of paper or post it's and then say words and see how fast your kids can spell them with their letters.

Put on a Play

Write for them or have your kids write a script for a play or puppet show. Have them memorize their lines or read them as they act it out for you. Also a good excuse to dress up.

Races

Give them something to read- anything, junk mail, something on your phone, this blog- and time them for 1 minute and see how much they can read. Then time them again and see if they can read even farther.

Bonus tip: Don't be picky about what they read. "Captain Underpants" will get the job done just as easily as Shakespeare and they'll enjoy it a lot more in the process.

What did I miss?? What works for your family to teach your kids to love reading without getting burned out in the process?

Grief

 I haven't posted anything here in over a year, but true to myself I end up writing a lot more when times are hard. It probably comes across that my life is full of anger and frustrations, but I just don't find myself wanting to write much when everything is hunky-dory. Probably because I'd end up using words like hunky-dory. So basically, it's a good thing you haven't heard from me here in a year. 

But boy, what a summer it's been.

Rather than focusing on that, I wanted to share some of what I've learned this summer about grief. I hope this doesn't come across as completely preachy, because full disclosure: I've never been great with grief. I've been lucky enough in my life to not have to deal with much until now. When my cousin died nearly 3 years ago, I went over to his sister's house to be with her. She has always been the closest thing I've ever had to a sister, and I was mourning him too, but I didn't know how to deal with it or what to say. I remember sitting there awkwardly, feeling like I was in the way, when her friend came over to visit and immediately hugged her. I thought, well duh Anndee. You could have hugged her. 

All this to say, I was an infant when it came to grief, and after this summer, I'm maybe a toddler. And now I want to tell you how to do it, like all toddlers do. So buckle up.

The BIGGEST thing is that we need to be there for each other during the hard times. It's easy to avoid someone who is having a rough time, or feel like they don't want to talk to us because we don't know how to help. But let me pull from one of the deepest pits of my soul some song lyrics that changed my life in the 90's:

All you people can't you see, can't you see

How your love's affecting our reality

Every time we're down

You can make it right

And that makes you larger than life

-Backstreet Boys

I know. Legends.

Or maybe it's more appropriate to say: we should mourn with those that mourn, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort.

I get that in the midst of a trial or a tragedy, "comfort" feels like basically the least you can do. But trust me, it is so needed. You can't fix the problem, but you can sit with someone while they deal with it, and just not feeling alone is huge. Being able to hand someone your pain when it is so heavy and having them say I can take a little bit of this off your shoulders can change everything. 

I know so much of how we deal with grief is cultural and I have to say... we're doing it all wrong. If you find yourself saying the words, "Let me know if I can do anything", you've made a wrong turn. I know that's the usual response. I know you actually do want to help. But those words are a really nice way to feel like you've helped, without actually ever helping.

"Do you need anything?" Yes:

Dinner. We all gotta eat fifty times a day (or is that just my kids?) so food is always a great go-to even if you're afraid you're just one in a train of many bringing food over. Do it anyway. Money. I know, it's an awkward one, but it's usually true. Gas cards. A clean house. Someone to mow the lawn. Child care. At the very least, a text checking in on how you're doing. 

There is ALWAYS something you can do, but if you ask, most people won't tell you any of that. It's awkward, and we are a people who like to pick ourselves up by our own bootstraps, even though by very definiton that's impossible. So instead of asking, just do something. Show that you are there and willing to help and then maybe they'll feel safer asking for those little things that are so hard to ask for.

And finally, if someone shares with you the hard thing that they are struggling with, don't immediately start listing all the bad things that have ever happened to you, or even worse, to someone you know. We get it: life stinks sometimes. But those kind of conversations usually don't leave anyone feeling validated for their feelings. I try really hard not to be offended by those kinds of conversations because I know I've done the same thing a thousand times, but this is teaching me to be better. You learn so much more from listening than you ever will from talking, and sometimes, that little release is all someone needs.

I've had so many friends through this who I haven't even seen in person for months, but I know I can text them when I'm extra sad and they will listen and just be sad with me. I have people who check in even when they know it's usually bad news, and they haven't walked away yet. I am so, so grateful for those who have just stepped in and helped my family without question. Sometimes the weight of grief makes the whole world seem so much darker, and people who are willing to mourn with you are like a light in all that darkness. 

Everyone you meet is going through something. Let's work to just be a little kinder and lift each other up. 

The Sisterhood of Motherhood

Years ago, I would have told you that I firmly believed men generally have stronger friendships with each other than women do. I spent too many years growing up having difficult and disappointing friendships with girls. By High School, I mostly hung out with boys because it was simpler than dealing with drama that came along with female friendships.
Lately though, I've realized that maybe it's not that girls are naturally bad at being friends... I think maybe, when it comes to having good relationships with each other, we just tend to be late bloomers. When we're young we might be more prone to gossip or be catty, to be competitive with each other about boys or our looks. I'm sure we've all been on the giving and receiving end of talking behind someone's back. Then we get older and something forces us to be more selfless, and to rely on each other way beyond the superficial things we cared about before... and that something is motherhood.

Nothing has bonded me quicker to other women than this business of motherhood. I've been so blessed to have a wonderful husband who always supports and loves me, but you learn quickly in motherhood that you need someone who you can turn to who can say: I get it. I've been there.
You need those friends who you immediately bond with because you have similar birth stories, or your kids are in the same phase right now, or who simply see you struggling with a cranky toddler on a bad day and don't for a second think that means you're a bad parent.
Those friends who can give you a book-length list of ideas to help your colicky baby when their pediatrician's only advice is to "burp her more".
Those friends who text you back at two am because they are awake too.
Those friends who you can complain to about your kids who you love so much, but who drive you so crazy, and they don't tell you to "enjoy it, because it goes by so fast." Some days, it feels like it can't go by fast enough.
Those friends who show up with a meal or a drink when they know you're struggling, but can't even come inside because they have a car full of kids too and those ten seconds at the door are the only time you see each other in months.
Those friends who ask how you're doing, and genuinely want to know. (Even when they realize that question might lead to an hour of tear-filled conversation.)
Those friends who don't question it when you tell them that yesterday, you cried for no reason over a cat food commercial.
Those friends who can mourn with you during a pregnancy loss that leaves you feeling gutted, and would never think to utter the words, "It doesn't matter, you can always try again."
Those friends who have dealt with their own infertility, and even though it looks completely different from yours, they understand the unique pain that is desiring motherhood and having those desires go unfulfilled.
Those friends who understand the anxiety and depression that can be crippling with a new baby, and even if they can empathize they never pretend it's normal or ok.
Those friends who understand that you can love your children and being a mom, and also feel completely lost and not know who you are anymore.
Those friends who help you choose a new haircut when you're having a postpartum identity crisis.
Those friends who check in and offer help even when they are at their wit's end themselves.
Those friends who love your children like their own not because of any blood relation, but simply because they love you.
The minute you enter the life of motherhood, whether that's when those two lines on the test appear or even before you ever have a child, you need friends like that. You realize there is no room in your life for talking bad about another woman, because we need each other. If you don't have those friends, call me. I'll be that friend. I'll share the wonderful group of women I've found, because I'm proud of the deeper connections and friendships I've made. I love when on a really bad day, a small voice in my head tells me to text a certain friend, and I know she'll understand.
We may not have had it all together when we were younger. We may have known or even been the mean girls at some point. But when we grow up and have those little people depending on us, it is amazing the sisterhood we can build.

Remlee's Birth Story

After Dayen and Arie's births,  I was really scared to be pregnant again because I didn't know what I wanted out of a birth anymore. I felt like I had a lot of trauma from my birth experiences, and I still had never gotten the natural birth I thought I wanted. This pregnancy came as a surprise, which made it even harder to wrap my head around trying once again to have a natural birth. I kept thinking I would come around to the idea and get excited and prepared like I had with both the boys, but I never did. The idea of birth just felt daunting and I didn't think that would go away before she was here.

I finally decided to take away the pressure of having a natural birth. I planned on getting the epidural this time, or at least doing a "wait and see" approach- if I felt like I was handling the contractions fine and maybe if my labor wasn't so long, I could do it. But if I got the epidural, I wasn't going to beat myself up over it or feel like I failed.

Then right about the time I hit the third trimester, my friend had her baby in the birth center. I was supposed to be her birth photographer, but for some reason my phone never went off during the many calls and texts I got that night. I ended up missing the birth by about 20 minutes. I felt (and still feel) awful, but I think it happened for a reason, because even seeing her in recovery brought back some bad memories for me. She was a rockstar and had her 10 lb 3 oz baby naturally, and I think it made me realize: this should have been me last time. If this is really what I wanted, I should have been able to do it with how easy Arie's birth was going, but instead some trauma from Dayen's birth led to a hospital transfer and a lot of pain. (I didn't realize until much later that although I was at a 9 at the birth center, I went down to an 8 when we got to the hospital. I felt so scared and was fighting the contractions so much that my cervix was closing during contractions- which is honestly the worst pain I've ever felt.)

I came home from my friend's birth and had a small birthing identity crisis. I texted my midwife and told her, "I need you to talk me down from a ledge. I am seriously considering an induction this time, please remind me why I don't want that." I was expecting a laundry list of reasons not to do it, but instead she replied, "I think you would be a great candidate for an induction." I burst into tears. I think, deep down, it was exactly what I wanted to hear. But I had also gone through 2 pregnancies believing I thought one thing, and now I was thinking about going against that. Not only that, but if I was going to get induced anyway, then I didn't want to wait the usual 2 weeks past my due date that my babies tend to come. My midwife said she would induce at 39 weeks. I cried some more about that.

In the end, I decided to set an induction date, and if the day came and I didn't feel good about it, I wouldn't do it. I did lots of research, which in all fairness, showed different outcomes than what many people believed when I was pregnant with Dayen. Inductions didn't actually lead to a 50% chance of a csection. Still, it was terrifying to choose when I had always let my babies come on their own. I didn't want to use pitocin, I didn't want to choose my baby's birthday, and I didn't want to end up with a csection because of something I chose.

In the days leading up to the induction date, I felt nothing but peace about it. We decided to go in the night before for cervidil. I had been at 2 cm for 3 weeks, and I thought even if I could dilate another centimeter in the night, that would be a little less time I would have to be on pitocin. We checked in at 6 pm and had the cervidil in by 7:30. We had a pretty restless night where I was having Braxton Hicks every few minutes, so I was hopeful that was a good sign that I was progressing. But at 6 the next morning, I was only at a 2.5. I had it in my head that there was a good chance the induction just wouldn't work, and even though it would have been really hard to go home without a baby, I made sure my midwife knew I would choose that over a csection for failure to progress. So we basically couldn't get an epidural or break my water, or I'd be on the clock and have to deliver.

We started the pitocin at 6 and the contractions picked up pretty quickly. I was eating breakfast at 8 when I suddenly had a really strong contraction that made me feel really sick. I told the nurse I was going to throw up, so she left to get some anti-nausea medicine while I threw up so violently my ears and throat hurt the rest of the day. I told Caleb not to look at me because that's basically the only mystery we had left in our marriage, but that's out the window now. Having babies has a way of making you as grossly vulnerable as you can possibly be.

Luckily the nausea medicine worked pretty quickly, but when they checked me again I was still only at a 3. My midwife said she wanted to break my water to get things moving, but I panicked because that felt like the final decision that would lead to a csection. So we decided to wait until I progressed a little more, but honestly, I still fully believed I wouldn't progress and we'd be going home still pregnant.

After that the contractions got a lot worse. I didn't do any kind of preparing for labor this time, thinking that my past preparations for a natural birth would all come back to me in labor. Although the pitocin contractions weren't quite as bad as back labor with my 9 lb baby Dayen, or 9 cm contractions with Arie, they were still really strong really fast. There was a definite difference between when your body goes into labor naturally and when it's being forced by pitocin. To make things worse, whenever I tried to sit on the yoga ball or squat on the ground to do any kind of pain management during a contraction, we would lose the baby's heartrate on the monitor. I basically had to sit perfectly still so we could make sure she was handling the contractions ok. As they got stronger, I started feeling really emotional and frustrated through them. I just wasn't prepared for labor, and I was feeling so frustrated with my body that my choices were a) go two weeks overdue or b) induce. Why couldn't I just have one magical, random 38 week baby?

Caleb saw how frustrated I was getting and suggested that I get the epidural and let them break my water. We had talked about how he had felt promptings during my previous labors and never felt like he could voice them because everyone else in the room seemed to know more about birth than him. So I told him if he felt that this time, I wanted him to speak up. He might not go through the physical part of labor with me, but I've always said I'd rather do it myself than have to watch my spouse go through it, and he has carried a lot of trauma from our birth experiences too. So I texted my midwife and told her, "I think I want the epidural, but I'm still really scared this is the decision that will lead to a csection." She said, "I think that's the right decision. If I'm wrong, I will make it up to you by making sure you don't end up with a csection." It was exactly what I needed to hear, so we called in the nurse and asked for the epidural.

By 11:00 I had the epidural and they came in to break my water. I was at a 4. Everyone kept saying she would come that afternoon, but as soon as we were alone Caleb and I agreed that we should plan on an all day labor and a middle of the night delivery, because that's just how things go for us. So we turned on Impractical Jokers and relaxed and took a nap and just settled in for a long day.

At 1:00 my midwife came back to check me again. I told her I wasn't feeling very good, just felt kind of "off", and she smirked like that was what she was expecting. I knew she thought I was in transition, but I didn't believe it. She checked me and smirked again, and I said, "What? Am I at 4.5 now?" She said, "Nope, you have 2 centimeters left. I'll be back in an hour and we'll have a baby!" I didn't even have a response. I think I sort of went into shock and a combination of that and being in transition made me start shaking really hard. I had never had a labor even close to this short, and honestly I had never really processed the fact that we were about to have another kid.

The nurse came back an hour later and I was fully dilated and ready to push. I couldn't stop shaking, and as soon as my midwife came in I just started crying. I looked at Caleb and said, "I'm not ready to have 3 kids!" and they all laughed because... too late. I pushed maybe 3 times and she was here! With my boys I had always pictured the emotional moment when they were finally born and I got to see them for the first time, but I had always been so exhausted by then that I couldn't really process it. With Dayen especially, I remember looking at him and thinking, "Huh. Look at that. A baby." This time, it was exactly what I always pictured. I was fully alert and crying when I saw our daughter for the first time. I always felt like I really had to work to get my babies here, but this time it was so easy and awesome and even 3 weeks earlier than I'm used to!

It looked nothing like what I thought my "ideal birth" would before I ever had kids, but it ended up being my favorite birth by far. I'm so grateful for a care provider who listened to me and helped me have the healing birth that I needed, even if it looked different than I ever expected.

And today, I get to say to my cute, 5 day old baby something that I never thought I'd get to say to my kids: Happy due date! Trust me when I say, I am so glad you're already here.

Remlee Ann Fonnesbeck

May 27, 2020

2:36 pm

6 lbs 14 oz

19 3/4 inches

It Takes a Village (with torches and pitchforks)

The other day, my mindless Facebook scrolling led to an article about how it's unexpectedly difficult to be a stay at home mom. Of course, that make the working moms lose their crap, which made the stay at home moms feel attacked, and it was basically the wonderful representation of humanity that you expect all comment sections to be.

Except for one thread, which was a group of women about my parent's generation. It started off with a post saying, "I don't know what girls these days are always complaining about. I was a stay at home mom for X number of years and I never felt this way! I loved every minute of it." The rest of the comments were women agreeing with her that they didn't understand it.

So, if you've ever thought this, I'm here to try to help you understand it.

The thing is, we are living in completely different times. I'd argue we've gone back to the dark ages, regressed back to a time when basic civility towards people was unheard of. People are tarred and feathered via social media these days, and honestly, I'm not sure it's much less painful.

Case in point: I saw a post on the Tremonton Classifieds yesterday (which I can't find now because the entire group has been shut down.) about a mom who found a 3 week old baby left alone in a car at the Kent's parking lot. She broke a window, got the baby out, and called the police. When the parents came out, they were apparently upset about the window. Oh, and then she went home and posted about it on Classifieds, and that's an important part of the story so stick with me.

I get that terrible things happen. I am an Enneagram 6, but I don't actually think I am. 6's are mostly known for their anxiety, and I truly don't believe I ever would have tested as a 6 before having children. Since having my first, I live in a constant state of anxiety. Every sketchy person at WalMart is trying to kidnap them. There's going to be a mass shooting in every crowd we're in. It's a terrible way to live! Tell me you would have enjoyed parenting back in the day if you felt this way all the time. And we tell new parents to ask for help, to sleep when the baby sleeps, to watch out for postpartum depression, to ask for help ask for help ASK FOR HELP. But guess what? The help is scarce. Sometimes it's impossible to find. And it's a fine line between asking for help before it's too late, and people shouting on Facebook that you should have your children taken away.

I mean, can we just be a little more careful with how we say someone should have their children taken away? Can we agree that's the extreme solution no one is actually rooting for? Facebook is not a place for a jury of your peers, but each post like this is calling someone out and putting them on trial and frankly it's not usually anyone's business.

When my second baby was about two weeks old, I took both my boys to the park. I was drowning in guilt over turning my three year old's life upside down, and how we weren't getting enough sunshine and therefore enough vitamin D, and trust me when I say a trip to the park is always about more than a trip to the park.

My three year old is naturally anxious (gee, I wonder where he's learning that from) but he decided to be brave and climb to the top of the highest slide. Once he got there, he froze. He screamed and screamed, unable to go forward or backward he just stood at the top, immobile. I was holding my new baby in my arms and watching nervously. I hadn't even brought the wrap for the baby. The carseat was in the car. I seriously considered just setting him down in the sand.

But the crazy thing is, there were people around, watching all this happening. No one offered to help, they just sort of watched.

So, I did what I had to do, or what I thought I had to do. I started climbing up after him. This slide, of course, was at the top of a completely vertical climb, which I was doing one-handed. When I was halfway up, my foot slipped. My heart completely dropped. I was going to fall with my baby.

I flung my arm out and managed to catch myself with my arm. I felt like it was broken. I had a giant bruise for weeks. But my baby was ok. And only then did a dad from across the park come running over and offer to help.

At the time, I was humiliated. What was I thinking, putting my baby in danger like that? What was I thinking letting my three year old climb up there? What was I thinking even leaving the house that day? But now, I just think... why did it take a dad, in a park full of moms, to see my need? To offer to help?

We are so quick to judge another parents situation. So many of the comments on that classifieds post were, of course, ripping the parents apart for leaving their baby in the car. But all I could think was: there are about a thousand reasons that could have happened, and we're only hearing one side of the story. All I could think was, I've done stupid things all the time, in the name of pregnancy hormones or sleep deprivation or just plain not knowing any better. But this is already the hardest job in the world, so why can't we ever just reach out and help each other?

It's supposed to take a village to raise a child, not to take one away from it's parents when they make a public mistake.

I'm so tired of worrying that other moms are judging me when my kid is screaming in the store. I'm tired of the playground and storytimes being a place we glare at each other instead of trying to make friends. I'm tired of hearing that if someone is going to make a mistake, they shouldn't have had kids in the first place.

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe, just maybe, those parents thought you know that baby we just spent nine months making and a very difficult and painful day delivering? Well he's been keeping us up all night, so we should go meander the aisles of Kent's and leave the baby in the car because we don't care about him.

I don't believe people are that black and white, that bad or good. I believe we're all trying our best. And frankly, I'm glad there are people in the world like the lady who saw that baby and cared. I love to think that there are other people looking out for my children, too.

But can we just suspend the judgment? Can we stop posting about it on Facebook for validation, or because we're angry? (Ok, I'm a little angry posting this, so go ahead and call me the pot or kettle, your choice.) Could we maybe instead try to see each other as fellow humans going through something really hard?

Because I love being a mom. I can't imagine my world without my boys in. But sometimes I wish I could just be a mom twenty years ago, instead of today.

We are making this Mom thing way too hard

Someone has to say it.

It's 2019... and we are making this mom thing way too hard.

I know I should probably try to be inclusive and not offend the fathers out there, but in this case I really am just talking to the moms. Because to be honest, I don't think I've ever seen a dad post that he has had serious dad guilt from being sick all weekend and not spending enough time with his kids.

So, some hard truths that we never talk about during play dates (mostly because we're being constantly interrupted by screaming children) but that I feel I need to share in the hopes that someone else will stand up and say they are feeling this way too.

We're supposed to get this right the first time. So we go crazy. We do endless crafts, we read countless parenting books, we entertain them every moment of every day. Pinterest has made us throw elaborate birthday parties for a one year old who takes his nap right when family shows up to party. Social media makes us think our four year olds need to be in four different kinds of sports and we are massively failing if they aren't on a third grade reading level before they start Kindergarten. It's just too much, and it's so much more than other generations expected of themselves.

You will never. clock. out. I didn't get that. Because I was a nanny for 8 years before I had kids, so I thought I knew all there was to know about parenting, and I thought I'd be a great one. That was when I got off at 5:00. I have been on the clock for 4+ years now, and the worst part is, no one is paying me anymore. And while we're going with the work metaphor here, anytime your kid remotely misbehaves in public, or for a babysitter, or acts like anything other than the angel you've been desperately trying to raise them to be, it feels like you got a bad performance review for a job you haven't even clocked out of for 4 years. 

We only see the places where we lack. We never celebrate the things that make us great moms. I love doing fun activities with my kids, but whenever I post one of them, I get a bunch of messages from fellow moms saying, "I wish I was as fun of a mom as you are" or "I never do stuff like that with my kids." Who cares? They'll be fine. You do a hundred things right that I'm getting wrong. Once in awhile, we have to give ourselves a pat on the back for even just keeping them alive this long.

Admit it: we're judging other moms. You can probably name several occasions where someone unfairly judged you as a mom, but if we're being honest, you can probably also name times you (at least in your own head) judged another mom. Internet trolls always immediately jump to the parents whenever a child is hurt- of course it's their fault. But we can't live in fear of what others are thinking of us, because finding your own path as a parent is hard enough without struggling blindly to follow someone elses.

Sometimes, kids are turds. Can we just admit that? I know, they're young and immature and there's a thousand psychological reasons and I was a turd as a kid too, but when I'm exhausted and starving and need a shower and my kid throws a tantrum because his graham cracker is broken, I just don't care about the rational reasons he's acting that way. I don't want to hear that I need to sit and hold his hand and show him how to be calm, or distract him with an elaborate art project. I want to hear someone admit that wow, living with kids is like living in an insane asylum. You're not the crazy one, they are. 

We are raising kids in a different environment than ever. Even our own parents didn't have to worry about screen time and the dangers of the internet the way we do- so where do we turn for knowledge and advice? The internet. And while we're looking up all the dangers facing our children and how to be a perfect parent, we're spending too much time staring at our phones which is apparently ruining our kids forever anyway.

We are the most important, but we don't matter. Even while telling us that moms are the most important piece of the puzzle to have a functioning society, we're being told in the same breath that we shouldn't put ALL our eggs in this basket because one day our kids will grow up and move out and never call us and we'll have nothing left. It's like an artist spending their life on an oil painting they know they will someday burn. I've said it before: this is enough. It's OK if this is the most important thing you ever do. But it's also OK to hide in your room with a book once in awhile, or work on something just for you. You still matter.

You're not supposed to be resentful of this. Because you've watched your friends and family suffer through miscarriages or infertility, or maybe you went through it yourself, and you told yourself no matter what, you would never for a second resent becoming a mom. But then... you do. And you can't say that. You can't even think it without feeling like the biggest scum on the earth. But how can we expect ourselves to look at every bad day, every single trial of parenting day after day and just smile through it? Some days are just hard. Heck, some months are hard. The first year of Arie's life I think I lost half my brain cells from lack of sleep. It doesn't mean you don't love them, or love being a parent, to admit that this is the hardest job out there, and that sometimes, you wish you could go back to the person you were before you had kids.

We're supposed to do it all without a village. Back in the day, it wasn't just a saying- it literally took a village to raise a child. Everyone lived in close quarters and helped each other. One person in the village could be great at entertaining kids, while another was great at teaching patience, and it didn't all fall on one persons shoulders all day, every day. There's a reason I get lonely and stir crazy all day at home with two kids, a reason I have to sit with my husband and just talk to an adult to decompress. We were never meant to do this alone, but that's the way society is these days. 

We go through this difficult challenge of parenting alone, while being judged by strangers everywhere we go, and watching everyone else's fake, perfect parenting wins online. We read the scary statistics about all the dangers and challenges facing our kids, and we go to bed every night with this enormous weight on our shoulders.

We have to cut ourselves some slack. We have to cut other moms some slack and not be so judgmental. We are all doing our very best, and look around: your kids are doing just fine, too. We are supposed to feel some joy as mothers, not just anxiety and guilt and fear. We are making this mom thing way too hard.