Adventures with Sarah and Al

Understanding your load and including yourself in your list of priorities. Saturday used to be our family adventure day—a time when we could focus on our values and enjoy quality time together. Then, a friend we met at H’s soccer practice—where Al coaches—introduced him to the local soccer referee circuit. It's been wonderful to have another side gig while we continue our search for full-time employment. I'm deeply grateful for Al's dedication and hard work in taking on this role. However, it's also meant that our family adventure day has shifted into a solo parenting day for me. While I fully support Al's efforts, I miss our shared time together as a family. Let’s be clear: this isn’t a post about doing it all. It’s about figuring out what actually matters to your family. A Typical Saturday... We usually have to wake up at 6:30AM. I try to prepare breakfast the night beforehand so we aren’t eating peanut butter crackers, but peanut butter crackers are fine. At my b...

Embracing Imperfection in Motherhood   I can still remember the day that H told one of my friends that I was the coolest person he knows. Yeah, he was three at the time. Yeah, I’m not going to be the coolest person forever. BUT at that moment, I was. How great is that?  In our last post, we talked about how mom guilt is culturally and socially created and often stems from unrealistic expectations. Believe me, I can relate to that too well. So, today we are going to focus on how we are good and that is good enough. This idea of good enough is often warped by perfectionism and social comparison. It is hard to imagine that our journey through motherhood is even normal with all the momgrams and #momgoals out there.  Yet, when we take out the comparison and check our own perfectionism often we find that “good enough” isn’t actually failure, it’s freedom.  The Problem with Perfection Whenever I think of perfectionism I am reminded of a friend’s favorite quote, Steinbeck wr...

  Where does mom guilt come from? Since I started working part-time last year, I’ve noticed something that’s hard to ignore: despite sharing parenting with Al, I still feel a disproportionate amount of pressure when it comes to my role as a mom. I’m sure I’m not the only one. In fact, according to a 2017 survey by Good to Know , 78% of moms feel guilty, and 68% of them feel guilty at least once or twice a day (Allard, 2019). I know that I can’t be alone in this feeling — this nagging sense that no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough. Can you relate? Podcasts, blogs, and Instagram accounts are devoted to decoding the feelings of guilt and inadequacy many of us experience. It’s a little distressing, but also comforting, in a way, to know that there’s a community of moms out there all feeling the same thing. But it also raises a question: Why does it feel like we can’t escape the weight of "mom guilt"? Where does it come from? The “Motherhood Myth” I guess I like thinking o...

  Unpacking Societal Expectations & Rewriting Our Own Definition of Success Last August, I started working part-time for the first time in years. I loved using my brain differently—but I also felt this crushing guilt every time I left my kids. Even when they were fine, even when we were fine, I still felt like I was falling short. Over time, I started to realize I wasn’t alone in this. Most moms I know carry some version of this guilt—like we’re always failing someone no matter how hard we try. But why? Where does it come from? And more importantly: how do we stop it from running our lives? This series is my deep dive into what I’ve learned (and what I’m still learning). We’ll unpack the root of mom guilt, how to rewrite what “good enough” looks like, and how to build a life that feels more whole—even if it’s not perfect. Over the next six posts, I’ll be exploring mom guilt more deeply: Where does mom guilt really come from? We’ll dig into the root causes. What does “good enou...

It is just beginning to be mango season in Puerto Rico . That means sweet, sugary juice dripping down our chins. You can see the fruit hanging, waiting to ripen on mango trees everywhere. A vecino (neighbor) stopped my son, E, and me on our walk to give us a bag of freshly picked Puerto Rican mangoes the other day. We took them to the beach. My sweet four-year-old, H, and almost two-year-old, E, sat together, splashing in the ocean. Fresh mango filled their hands, mouths, and covered their faces. Watching them, I felt a deep sense of peace. It wasn’t always this way, but this is our home. There were a lot of bumps and missteps on our way to making it so. Our Big Move to Puerto Rico: Parenthood & Adventure In early 2020, just as the world was beginning to change, Al and I faced a sudden shift in our plans. We had been accepted into the Peace Corps and were preparing for a new adventure when the opportunity fell through. Unsure of what was next, we moved in with his parents in Rhod...