by Kaity McIntosh-Tran
I’ve been trying to make a conscious effort to fashion myself into more of a “yes” mom. Yes we’ll stop for a sweet treat. Yes I’ll read one more story even though I’m ready to throw in the towel and pour myself a nice, big drink. Yes you can bring inside all the “smooth rocks” only. Yes to pushing back, maybe even skipping, naps for more outdoor play. Yes to running (er, sweating) my postpartum ass around the playground to chase and play tag. Yes, yes, yes.
I don’t really know the perfect formula for balancing the yeses with the dealbreaker nos, but I do know the look of surprise they’ve all given me when I say yes to something they’re certain I’ll say no to, and it’s pretty much worth being a rule breaker for.I don’t really know the perfect formula for balancing the yeses with the dealbreaker nos, but I do know the look of surprise they’ve all given me when I say yes to something they’re certain I’ll say no to, and it’s pretty much worth being a rule breaker for.
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