(Feel free to laugh at me.  Because this is an awful, laughable, disastrous, mess, times fifty thousand.)

A bit ago I had a little adventure at Walmart.  Apparently, the aftershocks of that day keep coming. But worse.  My accused lack of eyelashes is nothing.  NOTHING.

After leaving Walmart lady, I walked by the hair product aisles.  I was running low on my usual products and had a coupon for a new line.  A new line with commercials featuring Heidi Klum.  (Who I would bet that she doesn't even use the products that she reps for.  I mean like those celebrities that shill boxed hair color... REALLY????  You, you zillionaire, with your stylists and trainers, and personal chefs, color your hair WITH NICE 'N EASY??????  But that is besides the point.)

Everything was sold out, but one shampoo and one what I assumed to be a hair type mask.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA was I mistaken.

But I tucked it in the cart, and went on my way.

Now let me fill you in on my hair, it is crazy long, super dry, curly, coarse, abused by my flat iron, and not supposed to be blonde.  It needs care.  Good care.  I don't splurge on shoes or makeup.  I splurge on hair products.  Why I was in Walmart with a coupon for a mystery one, I will never know.

This is Clear.  Nice simple packaging.  Shea butter- a good moisturizing ingredient.  A good size for the money.  Therapy.  Who doesn't need a little?  What could go wrong?  (Spoiler alert:  A LOT.)

Random fact about me- I take showers at really weird times.  Most days I will try to take one during the children-are-around-hours, but that never happens.  Next thing I know it is way past bedtime and if I do not take one rightthisverysecond I am convinced that I will die a slow horrible I need a shower badly type of death.  So at 12:37 a.m. I decided it was the day to use this new nourishing product.

The thing is, at 12:37 everyone is sleeping and it is dark.  Like I said, super weird.

I attempted to read the directions by a dimmed light, but THERE ARE NONE.
None.  That should have been red flag #1.
Above is all that the label tells you.  So pretty much nothing.
Who doesn't put instructions on products?  Seriously, who????

In the proceeding darkness I took a big old scoop, for my big old dry hair.
It didn't feel like the hair masks that I have used before.
I put it on my hair.
IT REALLY DIDN'T feel like the hair masks I had used before.
It felt like I took a huge scoop of Carmex and coated my hair with it.

Ya.  Awesome.

Five washings later it still felt like I jumped in a vat of Carmex.  Except now the warm water was making it run down my face and back too.  EVEN MORE AWESOME.

Now it is past 1am.  The hot water is on it's way out.  My blood pressure is on it's way up.  I give up.  Get out.
Do what any person does, Google.
Except there is not really any info to be found.

I find the vague website.  The Facebook page.  The unanswered questions on the Facebook page commenting on how this product has no instructions.

No mention on how to get it the heck off your hair though.

Jump to the next morning.  I meet my friend for our walking adventure in the boiling sun.
The wax is melting all over me.
All I can think is ZITS ZITS ZITS.  Like a teenager on school picture day.
My hair looks like I just got out of the shower.  But I didn't.

We always stop halfway through our walk to let the kids play at the park, and to get a little bit of a break in the shade.  This particular day there were all these little bugs jumping out of the trees above, and landing on us.  Except they didn't just land on me.  THEY STUCK TO ME.  All over me.

Ewwwwwwwww  times ewwwwwwwww.  Times more ewwwwwww.  Then even more.

When I get home, I call the number on the package.
It is a... wait for it....
A POPSICLE RECALL HOTLINE.

I kid you not.
Who is punking me???????
Come on...

I send them a tweet.  A Facebook message.  A comment on the contact box on the website.
Crickets.  Chirping.  Nada.  No advice.  Not a peep.

From my sleuthing, I guess this is more of a pomade type product to put on you hair after you style it?
But I still don't get why it is so big, it would take me years to go through.
Or why it is good for your scalp.  I don't know anyone who would put waxy pomade on their scalp.
More like a pea-sized amount on flyaways and dry ends.
But what do I know?
I'm an Irish girl, and I guess it's REALLY, REALLY, REALLY not meant for Irish girls.

But seriously.  They are so happy, so sunny, so cute.  Worth all of the drama.  All of the jokes.
I might still want Salt Waters.  But I do love these.

How cute would they be in red....

So, I was really awesome at getting my kids to sleep.  Like the mom you hate.  The mom who's kids sleep through the night at eight weeks.  The kids who still take naps in second grade.  The mom who is secretly all judgey of the other moms who have kids that don't sleep.  The mom who just thought- hello, you put them in their cribs and they sleep.  It's not rocket surgery.

BUT IT IS ROCKET SURGERY!!!

Because this boy turned everything upside down.  All of my tricks.  All of the tricks of everyone else in the universe.  Yes, everyone in the universe told me what to try.  I cannot believe I used to be THAT GIRL with THE ANSWER.  Ewwwwwwwww.

None of them worked.  I became the mom that the other secretly judgey moms judged.

(I totally deserved it.)

Until... he slept his very first FULL night in his crib.  On his ten month birthday.  TEN MONTHS.  Not ten weeks.  Yep.  Judge away.  I can take it.  If I can take ten months of horrible sleep, I can take a little judgement.

But you know what ten months does to you?  Makes you a little irrational.  Superstitious. Paranoid.  Loco.

These little moose jammies?  I am operating under the delusion that they are woven of magical sleeping glitter.  Because the first time he wore them, was the first time that he slept straight through.

So guess what he wore again last night?
Yep.  Hello moose.
Those moose worked their magic again.

Guess what is in the washing machine right this very moment?

Moose.

He might just wear them every single night until he moves out of the house.

(Thanks Kendra.  The moose are my fave.)

Wendy Hagen is rad.
And real.
And funny.
And encouraging.
AND FUNNY.

Plus, I'm taller than she is, and I am shorter than everyone.

If you don't read her blog, you should.  Her post about Pinterest? Go. Right now.
If you haven't met her, you should.  I have.  Nanny nanny billy goat.
If you don't have a copy of her book, YOU NEED ONE.


It is my top recommendation for new mamas.  For struggling mamas.  For doing awesome at everything mamas (even if I sort of think that they are lying liars that lie).

It will make you laugh, it will make you cry, it will make you feel normal when you feel crazy, it will encourage you, it will help you know that you aren't alone, it will make you a better wife, mama, friend, and human.

For reals.

I have three copies to share with you.
Because you need to read it, like whoa.

You need to know what a MBD is, and what to do about it.
I have me quite a few MBDs.  In fact I just had a whole weekend of them.  Not my fave.  But trying to laugh through them is how I deal.

All you need to do is tell me something.  Anything.  Happy or sad.  Funny or mundane. Tell me how your kid tracked poop ALL OVER THE UPSTAIRS right before a party (oh wait, that was mine and I have never HATED THE GUTS OUT OF CARPET MORE!!!!)

I will draw three names tomorrow and send the happy books on their way.

I loved, loved, loved reading the comments on this post.  I feel so much more normal in my crazy.
Thank you for sharing the wonderful, horrible, unbelieveable, things that happen to all of us.

When I am having a bad day, I am coming back here to find some sunshine in the shared stories.

The three winners are:
Sarah- who had for sure the worst day.
Kate B.- who made me laugh (sorry.)
Angie- I think the teenage years start at three.

Hello.
Just your average week.
Pirate ship jumping, small friend walking, baby sleeping, mama celebrating, old school reading, laundry folding, hole digging, treat yo'selfing, small friend cozying, teepee playing, bake saleing, school musicaling, auctioning, stressing, small remindering, days.

So, the morning was crazy.  As it always is when I am trying my best to get the few extra minutes of sleep that I am desperate for, get two kids dressed and detangled, then the other two fed and ready.
I didn't have enough time to drink my coffee.  Sad face.  I usually drink a glass of iced cold brew at home, then bring a glass with me when I leave.

The dilemma- full French press of awesome, no cup/ glass/ anything/ big enough to carry it in to my morning mom's group.

The solution- hello Mason jar.
Mason jar is all- got a problem, yo I'll solve it...

So I filled it up with ice, dumped the contents of my French press in, topped it off with almond milk, screwed on the lid, stuck a straw in my pocket, ran out the door.

Good thing my friend Alyce from Little Mamas Pretties listened to our pleas and added mason jar cozies to her super cute shop.  How adorable are these?  How much do you want pretty coffee tomorrow?

All because of a crazy morning, and the Instagram obsession with Mason jars.
I may never be the same.

Last Mother's day I only knew pink.
Last Mother's day the thought of a baby boy was scary.
Last Mother's day our son was a mystery.

After my hardest pregnancy,
my hardest delivery,
my hardest recovery,
the hardest adjustment,

I am so very thankful for the blue that has entered our lives.

Baby boys are still a little bit scary, but they are pretty awesome.

It is so crazy to think that this time last year we were still a few months away from meeting him.  Now it is like he has always been a part of this sweet little family.

I like this Mother's day.

It's been a super crazy year.
I am so so so so tired.
I so do not have this four kids thing figured out.

We will figure it out. Somehow.
I will sleep.  Someday.

I love our little boy.
I am so glad that he is here.