Even before Lauren had Addy, she would look at me like I was crazy. I do have a knack for putting myself in not the greatest of situations. I used to laugh her off and try to get her to join me (which never happened), but I guess losing countless hours of sleep and wiping butts for years just gives that look more authority, because now I cower.

“I know, and as a mom, I have to ask if you remember that you have a photo shoot in an hour?”

“Duh.” I totally didn’t remember. Because where Lauren is an actual adult, I just play one on Instagram.

“Mom . . .” Addy’s hesitant voice calls from the kitchen. “I think I might’ve put too much syrup on my pancake.”

“Crap,” Lauren whispers underneath her breath before calling into the other room, “it’s okay, accidents happen, here I come.”

And on that note . . .

“You have fun with that!” I run to the stairs, not missing Lauren flipping me off before I go.

I might be living with a small child, but at least I’m not responsible for keeping her alive. Because for real? I’m not doing the best job of it for myself.

But at least I look fucking fantastic doing it.

About the Author

Photo by Kristie Chadwick

Alexa Martin is a writer and stay-at-home mom. A Nashville transplant, she’s intent on instilling a deep love and respect for the great Dolly Parton in her four children and husband. The Playbook series was inspired by the eight years she spent as an NFL wife and her love of all things pop culture, sparkles, leggings, and wine. When she’s not repeating herself to her kids, you can find her catching up on whatever Real Housewives franchise is currently airing or filling up her Etsy cart with items she doesn’t need.

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