Lauren Wellbank

One mom and her struggle to survive until bedtime


Category: The Parenting Game (page 1 of 6)

The bullying doesn’t stop, it just changes

Bullying.

The first time I was teased about the way I looked I was in elementary school. We were sitting in class when the boy sitting next to me said something about my hair. Then the boy next to him joined in, and another boy on the other side of me jumped in, and my first nickname was born: Medusa. Continue reading

How millennials are ruining Thanksgiving

The holidays are upon us

Dearest millennial host,

It’s me, your 19 pound turkey, dropping in with a very important message about Thanksgiving. I know a written letter seems a little formal, especially since you are about to be wrist deep inside of me, but it’s pretty hard to get your attention any other way.
For example, do you remember the other day when you thought you heard a noise coming from your trunk while you were on your way home from the grocery store? Well, that was me trying to get your attention.

Continue reading

Twas the night before cold and flu season

My “cold and flu season” decorations are finally up.

Twas the night before cold and flu season…

Twas the night before [insert thing I was looking forward to doing here], when all through the house, not a child was sleeping, not even with their favorite stuffed mouse;

Their outfits for tomorrow had been laid out with care, in the hope it would speed up our morning routine if we prepared.

Instead I found children piled high in our bed, sniffling, and sneezing as we held damp towels to their heads

I should have realized it yesterday, when my youngest went down easily for her nap, my carefully planned schedule was about to go to crap. Continue reading

I’m another year older

Look at the Tigger hat, look at it!

1994 maybe?

I’m grateful to wake up another year older today. I know it’s an experience denied so many.

After being serenaded by my kids, and eating a wonderful breakfast cooked by my amazing husband, I answered the age old question, “Do you feel any different?”

The short answer, no. Continue reading

Hello, I’m the failed wife

A letter of thanks from the formerly failed wife.

When I initially wrote this piece for Huffington Post about my whirlwind journey from wife to ex-wife, I didn’t really expect much to come of it. Honestly, I assumed a few people would read it out of morbid curiosity and then never give it a second thought. Fortunately, I’m very used to being wrong.

Since the piece went live Friday morning I have been receiving emails and private messages from people who have experienced similar “failures.” It’s been unbelievable, and I promise I am going to respond to each and every email, message, and comment that I have received as soon as I can think of something more eloquent to say than, “Oh my god, thank you.”

Our Friday the 13th cake topper

Eight years ago, when all of this happened I felt lower than I ever thought was possible. I was sad and hurt and angry – so angry – that I thought there would never be an “after” for me. No, I wasn’t going to feel better after some time had passed. I wouldn’t look back on the experience afterwards and gain some sort of insight that I didn’t have before. My pain would only lengthen with time, it wouldn’t lessen. It would remain tethered to my heart, like a balloon on a string, and it would follow me into every relationship and experiences for the rest of my life. I would always be under its shadow, and it would always taint everything in my life.

Continue reading

Fireworks and Summer Reading Lists

The Fourth of July is finally upon us. I can tell thanks to the sweet, subtle sounds of shit exploding outside my house. The relentless ballistics begin around supper and continue until well after I’ve passed out for the night #merica.

Don’t judge my collection

The familiar percussion, while equally obnoxious and annoying when you have two sleeping toddlers, serve as a reminder that summer is already half over. And to that I say, yaaaaaay. Continue reading

Kids ruin things, but it’s okay

Becoming a parent is a life altering event. You go from being in charge of just you, to having this whole other human being that relies on you for everything. They also somehow quadruple your laundry load.

It’s intense. And it colors everything in your world. Suddenly you find yourself wearing these parenting glasses that change the way you view everything. It’s like Predator vision, only everything is in primary colors and has soft rounded edges because holy shit everything is a death trap.

The Wellbanks before we were both Wellbanks

It’s great, because kids are awesome and great (and I’m just going to keep saying great over and over again because I have a three-year-old and it’s great Great. Great. Great.) Continue reading

This house has gone zero days without me freaking out over something that doesn’t matter

I messed up today.

I yelled at my kids this morning because I was frustrated over ten thousand stupid things but also not really one thing in particular at all. Raised my voice because I was trying to get the baby down for a nap while the toddler played her toy pots and pans like drums. What I really needed to be doing was the million other things that were waiting for me. But instead I was stuck in a loop of getting the baby almost down and having her awoken by her sister. Rinse and repeat.

Caffeinated and hoping for the best

This morning I even found myself pissed  off at the baby, whose only crime is that she is in full blown separation anxiety/cling mode. Her chunky cheeks jiggled as she began to cry when I tried to sneak off to the bathroom alone. Continue reading

How to enjoy St. Paddy’s day like you don’t have kids when you actually have a couple kids

Seven steps for enjoying St. Paddy’s Day like you did before you had kids.

#greenAF

Step one: Dress your kids up in their St. Paddy’s Day finest. I am talking head to toe green, orange, and white. You’re going to need a gigantic green bow for their hair. This works for girls, boys, and patient dogs alike. Put giant green bows on everyone, you won’t regret it. Take pictures because OMG how cute are your kids in matching/themed/clean outfits? Immediately post said pictures to Facebook and Instagram (#littleleprachauns #luckyAF), and tell your husband that maybe you should have another baby #luckynumber3. Spend the next half hour changing a blown out diaper, navigate a meltdown over what socks to wear, and repack the diaper bag three times because SOMEONE keeps pulling the diapers out and throwing them around the kitchen. Tell your husband it’s time for that vasectomy. Load up the car with everything anyone could possibly need for the next 24-hours, for your ten-minute ride to your parent’s house. Continue reading

When my arms are full but my heart is not

On the days when my arms are full but my heart is not, I try to remember why.

When everyone needs something right now, and I just don’t feel like I have anything left in me to give, I try to remember.

When they’ve already eaten lunch and are asking for snacks but I haven’t even started my breakfast, I force myself to remember.

<3

It won’t always be like this. Continue reading
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