Heather Christena Schmidt

Mom, first * Writer, second * Misanthrope, always

Today marks four weeks since my husband started his new job. Our lives kind of-sort of revolve around his work schedule – well that, homeschooling, tennis, and you know…daily life. But everything is sort of geared around his very hectic, often unpredictable schedule; if it didn’t, our idea of being a family would be waving casually to …

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We are on our annual, fall vacation. No big deal, just a little jaunt to Central Oregon to visit my husband’s grandparents and my great aunt. My husband drove us up, then after a few days flew home for work; the trip will end next weekend with him flying back to drive us back home. …

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  Today was the last day of tennis camp. I did not send treat bags for all the kids. I did not bake cookies shaped and decorated as tennis balls. I did not bring special activities to add to the camp fun, like bubbles or hula hoops. I drove up in my SUV, and did …

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I’ll be the first to admit that when times get tough, I throw in the towel. I don’t mean literally. I don’t – like – leave and return a week later after a blur of booze, parties, and memories I pray were just nightmares. I mean – like – I just give up. Mostly at …

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…didn’t see that one coming, did you guys? To be fair, neither did I. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me first tell you all about how I got into the position to see Ricki Lake poop out the baby to begin with. Today began like any other Saturday. Of course my husband was …

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We used to have a mother’s helper. She came over two times a week, for three hours each time. She’d help with picking up around the house, dishes, lunch, homeschooling, and so on. For the three months she worked for us, it was great. Sort of. I got to leave the house to run errands …

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Sometimes I get the impression that my friends that are moms are not really my mom friends. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but people I have known and called friends for years don’t seem to really identify with me as a mother. We don’t really talk about our kids with each other. …

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