Here on The Clueless Mom, I celebrate the unexpected, the goofy, the annoying, and the joyful moments that make up life as a parent. This is my space to laugh at myself and at life.

Calling myself the “Clueless Mom” is an attempt at humility. In real life, I’m not humble. I think I’m all that. It’s a good thing I now have parenthood to remind me how I’m so not cool.

I’m obsessed with hyperbole. I think it’s hilarious to exaggerate the truth and I don’t like to clearly draw the line between the reality and the exaggeration. (It’s gotten me in trouble in the past. Thankfully, no one has died because of it.)

(Okay, one guy died. But just one.)

(And maybe a couple of cats.)

(You see? I have a problem.)

I just graduated from college. I thought I would miss it, but I don’t yet.

I talk a lot. Especially at night when my husband is trying to go to sleep.

I’m a real goody-two-shoes. I’ve never done anything bad in my whole life. (Except for the time I killed that guy because I exaggerated too much.)

I adore my baby. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than stay home and snuggle with her all day. Even though I occasionally want to rip my own hair out.

My husband is seven years older than I am, which sometimes feels like a lot and sometimes it doesn’t.

He’s a “car guy.” He knows way more about cars than any sane person ought to. When we’re watching movies, he points out what kinds of cars the characters are driving. Plus the cars that are barely noticeable in the background. Plus the cars that aren’t visible but you can barely hear the engine running behind the dialogue.

He’s from Texas, but he’s not one of those Texans who think that Texas will someday take over the world. (Mostly.)  

He’s incredibly handsome. He looks like a combination of Chris Hemsworth, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Clark Gable.

(I’m kidding.)

(Sort of.)

(Not really.)

(You should be jealous.)

When he comes home and finds that I’ve been too stressed to make dinner, he offers to get pizza.

He adores our baby. He’s a wonderful father.

I can’t believe I get to be his wife.

My baby is the cutest, smartest, best baby in the world. Obvs.

And she’s confusing and frustrating and sometimes it feels like she's doing everything in her power to sabotage me. Also, she can read my thoughts. (I.e., the moment I’m about to fall asleep or wash dishes or get in the shower, she cries, as though she knew that that was the worst possible moment and she wanted to remind me who’s boss.)

At this point, she seems to have inherited almost all her looks and personality from my husband. I’m okay with that. He’s a pretty cool dude, after all.

She has the most beautiful smile in the world.

She loves to snuggle. (I’m so glad.)

All in all, I think she’s an easy baby. I thank my lucky stars for that.  

I’m so grateful I get to be her mom.

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