When a mom helps another mom, she pays it forward. Because she knows what it's like to have a toddler in a tantrum on a hot summer day.

I was talking to my husband, and he started laughing, “Dani, open the fridge!” I slowly opened it to a bin of pretzel rods sitting next to the cartons of milk.

I will love you through the mad. I will love you through mental illness. I will love you through the sad.

You don't love swimsuit season, never have, most likely never will. The problem is your world has grown smaller as your fear of showing off your body has grown larger.

“How could she let herself go like that?” “Wow, she really let herself go.” I’ve heard people say these words with a slow shake of their heads.⁣

I have so many days where I look at my children acting wild and tell them in a breathy whisper of defeat, "you guys need to really behave, or I can't do this anymore." As in, I can't mom anymore.

“Am I a bad parent if I think my child’s annoying?” I asked my husband, half-joking half-not.

There’s no alone time in motherhood. And when there’s a long day filled with tattling siblings, screaming, and playing nonstop, it’s okay to crave some quiet moments within it.

Why do moms yell? Because we’re overwhelmed. Because no one’s listening. Because our kids are about to get hurt. “Don’t put your hand in there!”

It’s impossible to be perfect because no one is, so we become plagued with mental health issues in the process.

When you describe me, my children, I want you to say, “my mom was strong and a good human. She had her struggles and wasn’t perfect, but she taught us how to rise no matter what.”

Am I the only mom struggling with my mental health? Am I the only mom who’s exhausted but can't fall asleep at night because I worry about everything?

Somewhere there’s a mom just like you. A mom is stressed out with the list of invisible and visible tasks to be done too.

I want to tell you about the “you” I remember from my eyes. I could tell the days were long for you, but our world was always moving fast.

The truth is motherhood is hard. It’s not picture perfect or over-the-moon happiness all the time.

You’ll never regret having more kids. Let me finish that sentence properly. You’ll never regret having more kids once that child is here.

The sweet spot of motherhood is found in the mess. It’s in that pile of laundry on the floor that keeps accumulating every couple of hours.

Highly sensitive people are human sponges, and it's hard always being sopping wet with everyone’s EVERYTHING.

We’re all doing the best we can. I’ve heard WAY too many moms of kids of all ages say, “It’s my fault my child struggles with _____.” (Insert your child’s struggle).

Size doesn’t matter. It means absolutely nada, zero, zip, zilch. If you have a smaller waistline, you won’t be happier. I can guarantee it.