The life of Curls & Chaos

School starts in two weeks, and while most people are running around picking out cute backpacks and sneakers, I feel like I’ve been running a completely different kind of race — one that’s left me exhausted, worn out, and just praying for a break. These past few weeks have been… a lot. Not “oh, I’ve been a little busy” a lot. I mean the kind of “one thing after another” that makes you look at the calendar and wonder if you’ve accidentally signed up for some kind of life obstacle course. It started with Hands, foot, and mouth disease. If you’ve never had the pleasure, let me just say — 0/10, do not recommend. Take care of yourselves it's going around! My toddler caught it first, and I thought I was in the clear until I woke up with the blisters on the hands and feet, fever, the whole nightmare. It’s one of those things you hear about as a “kid sickness” and think, oh, adults don’t really get that bad, right? Wrong. So wrong. Adults actually get it worse than the kids do, so again,...

 As a mom, I’ll try anything (within reason) to support my child’s development — especially when I feel like something might be slightly off or delayed. I’m not a doctor, and I don’t claim to have all the answers, but I am someone who listens to her intuition and pays attention to her child’s needs. I do my own research to see if there's anything that is in my control to help my child.  So when I kept seeing videos on TikTok about these zeolite drops that supposedly help kids detox, focus, and even start talking more, I was intrigued. I watched countless videos of other moms sharing their experience, and it sparked something in me. Could this be the thing that helps my son, too? My son is 22 months old, and while he’s been saying a few words here and there, I noticed his speech wasn’t progressing as much as I had hoped. I try not to compare him to other kids, but sometimes it’s hard not to notice that other toddlers his age seem to be saying full sentences or using more word...

I knew weaning Xander off the pacifier wasn’t going to be easy — but I didn’t realize just how emotional , exhausting, and complicated it would be. My goal has always been to have him off the paci by the time he turns two in September. And a few weeks ago, I decided it was time. We said goodbye to the pacifier… and instantly opened the door to a whole new level of parenting challenge. Since then? It’s felt like we’ve gone backwards in sleep. He wakes up multiple times a night — just like when he was a newborn — crying, unsettled, searching for that one thing that used to bring him comfort. And honestly? It’s hard. Hard not to give in. Hard not to feel guilty. Hard not to question whether I’m doing the right thing. I’ve tried giving him stuffed animals — and trust me, he has plenty . But none of them bring him the calm the pacifier once did. That was his thing . His comfort. His constant. And now I’m asking him to live without it… while he’s still too little to understand why . ...

Ahhhhh, its time!  Some people are prepping backpacks for their kids. I’m prepping notebooks for myself. This fall, I’m going back to college — not just as a student, but as a single mom, a full-time worker, and someone who already has her hands full (literally and emotionally). And honestly? It’s scary. But it’s also powerful. Because choosing to go back to school while raising a child isn’t something you do for fun. You do it because you’re fighting for more. More opportunities. More security. More stability. More for your child. Some days, I feel like I’m barely keeping it all together. Between daycare germs, work stress, and mom guilt, adding college classes feels like chaos stacked on chaos. But I know the version of me I’m working toward — and she’s worth it. So is my son. This isn’t the traditional back-to-school story. It’s not perfect or polished. It’s me, doing homework with a toddler climbing on my lap. It’s late nights, early mornings, and praying the Wi-Fi hol...

This past week has been one of the hardest I’ve had in a long time. When my son Xander first came down with Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease, I thought I would just continue to be his mom nurse, his support, I wasn’t expecting to get sick too. And definitely not like this . I was in real pain . My hands and feet were covered in blisters. It felt like I was walking on pins and needles every time I took a step. I couldn’t walk my dog. I could barely walk at all. My hands hurt to the point where holding a cup made me want to cry. And the worst part? I still had to keep being Mom. Xander was still recovering himself. He still needed his meals, his cuddles, his diaper changes, his sleep routine. He didn’t understand why mama was so frustrated and kept crying. He didn’t know I was running on fumes, trying not to scream from the pain and frustration while trying to put him to sleep. That’s the reality no one talks about. When you’re a single parent, you're in survival mode. Thinking abo...

  What I Would Tell My Old Self Before Becoming a Mom I think about her sometimes — the girl I used to be before I became “mama.” The girl who had full control over her day, who thought motherhood would be hard but manageable, who had no clue how much would change… and how fast. There’s so much I wish I could tell her. I’d tell her that motherhood will crack her open in ways she can’t imagine. That some mornings, she’ll wake up and already feel tired — not from lack of sleep, but from giving so much of herself over and over again. But I’d also tell her that every single piece of love she pours out will find its way back to her — in tiny fingers gripping her hand, in sleepy “mama” whispers, in unexpected cuddles during chaos. I’d tell her that her body will change, and so will her soul. Stretch marks, saggy skin, a new softness in places she used to criticize — but also a new strength in places she never knew she had. I’d tell her that there will be lonely days — really lon...

And with a very late blog post for the day; These past few days have been rough. Xander caught Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease from daycare and just like that — my whole world paused. The rash. The crankiness. But what hit me the hardest wasn’t the sickness itself — it was the sacrifice that came with it. Because as a single parent, when your child gets sick, it’s not just a health issue. It’s a daycare call. It’s a canceled shift. It’s lost income. It’s rearranging your entire life — alone. No backup. No co-parent to switch shifts with. And the guilt? It hits from every direction. Guilt for missing work to be there for him and not being able to provide the way I want. Guilt for even wanting to send him back to daycare just so I can breathe. Guilt for feeling frustrated when I know he’s the one who’s really suffering. It’s a constant tug-of-war between doing what’s right for him and trying to keep myself — and my life — from falling apart. People think it’s just a rash. Just a virus. Jus...