By Annie

​Tomorrow marks dress rehearsal night for my daughter’s dance recital, and I am all a-jitter. Not because I’m worried about how she’ll perform or if she’ll feel confident on stage. Nah. She’s got this. I’m worried about me. I’m worried about this mountain of paperwork. You see this spread? All of these pieces of paper relate to the dance recital. They contain detailed instructions regarding costumes, make-up, hair poofs, hoop earring, tickets, programs, safety pins, times, orders, false eyelashes, finale tees. Note: There are paper clips and staples at play. Some of these papers have multiple sheets beneath them. 

My daughter is dancing in two numbers and the finale. She will be on stage for a grand total of approximately seven minutes. 

And this is one activity for one kid. I have three kids! 

Mamas, come on. How are you doing it? You cheating somehow? How do you always know the color of the week? How do you know which day book orders are due? How do you know which teacher to avoid next year? How do you know when the park hosts the free craft class? How do you know when soccer signups are and what churches have bible camps this summer and when the safety patrol meeting is and how to enroll in the library summer reading challenge?

How do you know it all? All the time? There are so… many… papers. What sorcery are you dipping into? 

These are not rhetorical questions. I am a smart woman, but I cannot retain this information. I have a master’s degree but I cannot master our family calendar. I have a director-level position at work, but I cannot direct my 6-year-old as to what day he is supposed to bring a beach ball to school. 

You know what? I don’t even want to know. But know this: I commend you.

And I will continue to nag the shit out of you for all of the answers for the rest of our time together.

​#sorrynotsorry

By Mandy

It's my daughter's last day of her first year of preschool. Exciting, yes, emotional milestone and blah blah blah. What that means in my immediate MOTY world is that I have to get two cranky kids up, dressed and out the door earlier than usual for an end-of-year show and picnic. (Dressing myself for mama-mingling is an added bonus at this point.) Which brings us to... veggie straws and Swiss cheese! On the floor! 

When in doubt, mamas, feed your kids yellow food on the floor. It's the fastest way to get them out of the house. Gott run, we're late AF! 

By Annie

My first-time mama sister: We had to do a round of shots today, which Baby handled pretty well. (Mommy and Daddy did their best.)

Second sister, in support: Awwwww!!!! The shots are always so hard....for ME! Haha. My heart just BREAKS.

My mother, mama of four, grandmother of six, and former pediatric nurse: Oh, I always hated shots days! The only good thing (besides protecting them from life-threatening illnesses!) is the extra cuddle time.

Me, aka MOTY: I always kind of liked it that they slept all day and I got a break.

By Layah

Redecorating your kids' rooms? Instead of spending an exorbitant amount of money on oh-so-adorable area rugs that the darling rascals are going to color, spill, and possibly even  pee or poop on, save your tragically limited time and money by buying the bathmat version! Seriously, the price difference alone is shocking:

Amirite?? Now, take a look at what that extra $$$ will get you in care instructions:

Ain't no MOTY got time for that! Go with the bath mat and no wasting time delicately spot cleaning (or, if you are super meticulous, color checking before using a cleaner) and no wasting mommy-time money on professional carpet cleaning. Just throw these babies in the wash and move on. Plus, they honestly look good!  

NOTE: This hack works better for smaller spaces, but remember, kids don’t know the difference and will think you are extra awesome for getting more than one!

Ah, the new year is upon us... a time for corks popping, glasses clinking, confetti flying and – who are we kidding – trying to keep our eyes open until midnight while we binge-watch Parenthood in our PJs and wonder why we can't ever look as put together as Kristina Braverman. The woman has three kids, including a son with special needs, and a political career. And cancer. 

We digress. For many, the real crux of a New Year's celebration is the opportunity to reflect on your accomplishments (or lack of) during the past year and to make resolutions for how you want to improve yourself in the future. Read more. Scroll mindlessly through your phone less. Do more yoga. Learn to speak Mandarin. Blah blah blah. We've heard them all before. That's why we MOTYs decided to do something a little different with our 2018 resolutions. Instead of isolating aspects we want to change about ourselves, we've decided to fully embrace the MOTYiest things about ourselves that we actually secretly adore. In 2018...

• We can make plans, but I will definitely be late and/or cancel. This is not because I don't like you or respect your time but because I am a fierce introvert and a hot mess with a gaggle of children whom I simply cannot predict or control.
• I will never sign the volunteer sheet at school to help with classroom parties. Small talk makes me want to gouge my eyes out with a butter knife, and other people's children are annoying.
• My kids will eat "fruit" snacks, dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, non-organic everything and too much processed crap in general. I know better. In fact, I have extensive knowledge on nutrition... but, come on. Life is hard AF.
• Related: I will eat the foods I love and feel nothing but incredible about that.
• I will stop forcing my kids to smile at and give hugs to relatives and acquaintances they hardly know because my kids are actually real people with their own boundaries for their bodies and their emotions. That's not only incredibly important but also pretty cool. To hell with feeling embarrassed over honoring their comfort levels.
• I will be completely and utterly useless after 9 p.m. I won't read. I won't text you back. I won't have sex with my husband (much). This is in part because my kids drain the life force out of me all day long and in part because I am carrying the mental load in our home. If decide to "clock out" after a day that started at 5 a.m., so be it. 
• My kids will wear T-shirts with stains, mismatched clothes and pants with holes in the knees. This is not because I can't afford to buy them new clothes but because I cannot afford to give enough fucks to monitor what they put on each day. 
• I will not stop saying "fuck" or "shit" when it's the only word that I see fit. My kids know they can't drink coffee or alcohol yet. Or drive a car. Or go to work. Here's one more grown-up thing they can add to the list.
• Related: I will laugh every time my preschooler swears. Because that's funny. 
• I will refuse to feel inadequate when I don't bake the bake-sale brownies, when I forget to sign the permission slip, when I occasionally retreat to my phone instead of getting lost in my children's imaginations, when I forget about Silly Hat Day, when I can't afford the overnight camp, when I go to McDonald's or when I take back a punishment. Because I'm a really good mom. I love my kids more than anyone on this earth ever could. I give them everything I am able to. And I am enough. 

Happy New Year, mamas! We hope you'll join us in embracing your inner MOTY in 2018! 

By Layah

Tonight marks Day 1 of the Jewish Festival of Lights, better known as “Hanukah” or “Hanukkah” or “Chanukkah” (guess what, MOTYS – it doesn’t matter how you spell it!). Forget name variations, what the heck is this holiday even about? Let us shed some light (see what we did… light!) on that question with this mama-friendly recap: 

Around 2000 of years ago (about as long ago as your last poop in solitude), a Greek king named Antiochus tried to force the Jewish people to give up their religion and bow down to the Greek gods (like the Pinterest moms pressure us to worship our kids on social media). The Jews rebelled and formed a small army called the Maccabees (scrappy badasses… sound familiar?). Though outnumbered by the thousands, the Maccabees defeated the king. In the meantime, however, the Greeks destroyed the holy Jewish temple (like when you leave your toddler alone for five minutes in the room you just tidied up… but way worse). The Maccabees were strong in spirit (picture a 3-year-old who insists on buckling herself into her car seat), and they decided to rebuild the temple. While they were working, they had only enough oil to light their menorah for one night. (Fun fact: a menorah is actually just a candelabra with seven branches, but the Chanukah – the Chanukah Menorah – has nine.) The oil burned inexplicably for eight whole nights (sort of like when you overcome devastating sleep deprivation and mom so hard you surprise even yourself), and thus the miracle of Hanukkah began! From then on, Jews have celebrated their victory of religious freedom and the miracle of burning oil by lighting a Chanukah for eight nights.  

But here’s the deal, gentile MOTYs, we parents channel the spirit of the Maccabbees all the time: we are determined, strong and capable of surviving the unthinkable on a daily basis. We have had our sacred shit destroyed by our children, have had our freedom stolen from us by those in our home (though we actually love the little thieves… sometimes), and we think we deserve some fucking Hanukkah miracles, too. So light your Chanukah Menorah (or a Glade candle or whatever you have!), and join us in celebrating these miraculous gifts: 

On the 1st night of Hanukkah, a miracle happened: My children went to bed the first time they were asked, and I got to watch This Is Us & drink with my partner before 10 pm. ​

On the 2nd night of Hanukkah, a second miracle: My children’s clothes clean enough to wear again and they used inside voices and not even one ear-splintering scream was heard.

Excessive eating, pies for days, houses heaving with out-of-town guests and oppressive political backdrops – Let's face it, mamas, while of course we have gratitude dripping from our pores, Thanksgiving is a holiday ripe for kid drama. Whether it's a diaper blowout, a toddler meltdown, a picky eater or a surly tween, finding yourself in an unsavory parenting situation is not an "if" but a "when" in terms of Turkey Day. Fear not, the MOTYs are about to hook you up with our most essential holiday hacks:

1. Treat yourself to a pre-holiday drinking binge one week before the main event so that you know exactly what your current alcohol tolerance is. Nobody wins if you start blurting out dark family secrets or ancient resentments.

2. Prior to the holiday, prepare a list of canned responses for the family member who always passive aggressively criticizes your parenting. For example: It's so thoughtful the way you always check in on us, to make sure we've thought our family's choices through! It really helps us grow as parents. Or: Fuck off and die. 

3. Avoid commentary on your heathen lifestyle (aka, heading up a household that doesn't say grace before every meal) by coaching your kids to bow their heads and whisper "elephant shoes watermelon" during the blessing.

​4. Pack a thick stack of paper napkins in your handbag and place near your feet under the dinner table. When your jerk kid won't swallow his food, pretend to wipe his face and let him spit his food into the napkin. Discreetly slip into your open bag until later. (Tip: Works best if you practice at home beforehand.) 

5. Pinch your child's cheeks prior to greeting elderly aunts so that when your kid predictably refuses to smile/speak/hug/kiss her doting relatives, you can gesture nobly to her flushed cheeks and say, "Poor thing, I think she's coming down with a fever." 

6. If you plan to ban electronics for the day, steal mini marshmallows or other similarly sized treats from the dessert station and dole out under the table at regular intervals to ensure compliance. 

7. Have more than one kid? Earn points with your superiors by encouraging a little friendly competition among your peons. Teach your kiddos a few basic compliments – Granny, your potatoes are the best! Uncle, have you been lifting weights? Whichever kid gives the most compliments wins a prize. (Tip: Reserve those last sad Halloween tootsie pops rattling around for this purpose.) 

8. Fake diaper changes or nursing emergencies when you need a quick reprieve from unpleasant political discussions. Try wetting a napkin and pressing against your baby's crotch or your breast area to create a wet patch for added authenticity. 

9. Practice scrunching your forehead in a pitiful "I have a horrific migraine" expression in case you need to retreat to a dark room for a few hours. Bring your phone. And your charger. 

10. Pack MiraLAX in case things get really dire, and guzzle a couple of capfuls with your water. A little self-induced diarrhea never hurt anyone... in the long run at least. Take one for the team, mama. That's what motherhood is all about. 

Happy Thanksgiving, fellow MOTYs! Get your gratitude on! 

By Annie