Confessions of a not-so-super mom

My name is Amanda.

Foremost, I'm a mommy to an incredibly free-spirited little girl. She keeps me on my toes in more ways than one. I'm also a wife to a super husband AND dad. I'm lucky to have a partner who goes out, earns the tempeh bacon and isn't afraid to come home and fry it up every now and then. 

I'm a daughter to two incredibly supportive parents, a sister to an over-achieving, over-generous brother, sister-in-law to a strong-willed, role model of a what a woman and mother in today's society should be.

I'm an aunt to an equally rambunctious niece and even more trouble-seeking, but oh-so-fun nephew.

I'm a cousin to other incredible women, all at different stages of their lives and a niece to aunts I get to see every weekend for coffee.

I'm the best friend to two completely different, but incredibly loyal and loving best friends.

And lastly, I'm Amanda.

Somewhere along the way I stopped identifying myself as Amanda and started using all these other definitions instead. And while I absolutely LOVE all of these other definitions, I don't want to lose the person behind them.

Between a new career, new friends, new responsibilities and new desires, when is a mom supposed to find "me" time? 

How do mothers in this society find the balance between their careers, families, friends and hobbies? Is there one? And what happens when you have more than one child? All the sudden you're not just a mother to one, but two. 

I look forward to the day we have a second child, someone for Pearyn to relate with, share her vegan outcastness with and overall disdain of her stupid, tree-hugging, grain-eating parents. 

I guess I'm just hoping that come the second little one, I'll be a lot better at juggling the pianos, bowling pins and medicine balls life is throwing at me. 

Who's kidding? I just hope I don't get smashed by this piano first.

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