Once upon a time, in a land far away (or maybe just in the land of delusion), a young woman found the man of her dreams (or the biggest nerd in school her 8-year-old self swore off), who had a lovely 1 yr old daughter.  In a whirlwind of love and custody battles, the girl found herself married, pregnant, unemployed, and the only maternal figure to said daughter. And that’s where the fairy tale ended.

Or the girl got over her delusional episode, whatever.

In case you haven’t realized it yet, that young woman is me. I’m Ashley, and I have no idea what I’m doing.

The fairy tale in question goes as such: Met DH in elementary school, where he was the biggest nerd in school (okay, so I was the female variant). Time and relocation and coincidence later (or fate! destiny! gag gag gag!), the two nerds reunite and decide it was meant to be. Prince Charming was immersed in a custody battle with his daughter Neve’s mother. Once the battle was one, the mother flew away to a land farther away (meaning, we don’t know where). During this, a honeymoon baby was conceived, Edie. Edie was a miracle of questionable fertility on my part, and I took it as a sign from God that life really is full of miracles and blessings.

I’m not claiming that they aren’t. I’m just saying miracles still have crappy diapers and control issues, and blessings still throw raging temper tantrums.

So here I am. No experience, and currently with a now-preschooler who’s had an incredible amount of turmoil in her life, and a demanding, exhausting 7-month old who inspires jealousy to new shades of green.

I lost my job during a bad market and a worse pregnancy, and haven’t found anything STILL. I thought I’d love staying at home and not missing all the little moments… Now, I’ll happily post my resume on here. I’m seriously beginning to believe I need to leave the raising of my darling little angels to the professionals. I’m talking the Whitneys, Mariahs, and Celines of child-rearing (MUSICAL reference, NOT actual parenting ability!!!). Me? I’m like that drunk chick who slurs through “You Oughtta Know” at karaoke night (MUSICAL reference, NOT actual singing ability….oh, wait, nevermind).

So, I’m laying it all out for the world to see. Please, feel free to utilize my ineptitude to make yourself feel better, even to the point of being holier-than-thou. You see, I realize now that I was so self-righteous about my parenting ability BEFORE I EVER HAD A FREAKIN’ CLUE that I have earned. Let the smirking begin (but for my kids’ sakes, if you have a real suggestion, GIVE IT!).

Mommy Dearest

I'm not that bad!

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