I don't know a single parent that doesn't worry on a fairly frequent basis. Even when we know we shouldn't worry, we worry. Even when we know there's absolutely no reason to worry, we worry. When you love someone so much it physically pains you, it's difficult not to worry about every little thing for fear they will feel an ounce of pain or heartbreak or disappointment.

Of course, they eventually will. They do pretty early on in life, actually. It's inevitable and it's part of being human and there, my friends, lies the futility of it all: worrying won't change anything, but you can't help but do it anyway. Parenthood is just the best.

Oh, how I miss sleep. While I am out of the "I have a newborn so I'm only sleeping in two hour (or less) increments" phase, I'm still not getting a complete night's sleep. Not usually, anyway.

Sometimes that wonderful, beautiful but infrequent night will roll around and my toddler son will sleep for eight straight, glorious hours. However, that's a rarity that I am not accustomed to enjoying. So, when that happens and my kid doesn't wake up and come into my bed at some ungodly hour in the middle of the night, I start to worry. Again.

My lazy weekend mornings when I lounged around (either in bed or on the couch) for endless hours just being an absolute bum of a human, are long gone. Now my kid wakes up every morning at at least 6:00 or 6:30 on the freakin' dot, weekday or not. That means, of course, that I have to get up and actually do things, like make breakfast and read and get him changed and dressed. Ugh. That's a lot of work to do early on a Saturday morning, you guys.

I will be the first to admit that when it came to motherhood, I didn't know sh*t. I was more than happy to receive all the help I could manage to acquire, because being a new mom is scary and I wanted to do it "right" and I wanted to be the absolute best parent I could possibly be for my son.

However, the unsolicited advice (especially the advice from relative strangers who tell me "tips" based on ridiculous assumptions that are so far off base it's almost laughable) is usually anything but helpful. If only certain people could learn to save their hard earned knowledge for the moments when people actually ask them for it.

I feel a constant, silent, palpable pressure to never, ever, make a mistake. It's exhausting. As a mother, and as a human being who is responsible for the life and well-being of another human being, I constantly feel like I have to do and be my best, to the point that anything short of perfection is unacceptable.

Of course, our society doesn't necessarily help in this area of parenthood. When it comes to parents making mistakes, our culture is unforgiving. At best. One slip-up, especially a public one, and you're a "bad parent" and someone is calling Child Protective Services (CPS) and you're being chastised and attacked relentlessly. Yikes.

I used to ignore power outlets and corners of coffee tables and toy recalls and the plastic my online purchases came covered in. Not anymore, my friends. Danger is everywhere when you have a kid, and you find yourself anxiously searching for it like you're a main character in Final Destination.

Granted, I have learned to manage my "mom guilt" much more efficiently, now that my son is two and I have pushed passed and/or simply learned to ignore what is "expected" of me as a new mom. However, when I was taking care of a newborn and simultaneously working, very few days didn't end with a side order of guilt.

Even now, I have days when I look back and instantly feel guilty for not spending enough time with my son or not spending enough time at work. Sometimes I'll feel guilty about not being a better friend or a better romantic partner or a better coworker or a better mother. In at least one area of my life, I feel like I'm lacking, probably because society puts so much pressure on mothers (and women, in general) to be absolutely everything to everyone.

I miss my carefree, spontaneous days when I could just jump in the car and drive from Seattle to California without a care in the world. I miss not knowing what I was going to do on a Friday or Saturday or even Tuesday night. Sometimes, I really miss not knowing where my night was going to take me, because I didn't have to worry about getting home to someone else or waking up early to take care of someone else.

Then again, there is something to be said for a nice, comfortable routine, a pair of oversized sweats and an endless Netflix queue, so to each their own.

Dear. Lord. In. Heaven.

I know it's not a surprise that kids cost a pretty penny, but that doesn't mean parents are happy about it.

When I was baby-free, the majority of the mistakes I did or didn't make would affect me, and only me. I didn't have to worry about hurting someone else (for the most part) because I was only responsible for myself.

That's not the case. Not anymore.

Now, one potential mistake can affect my son, and even the thought of my son hurting because of something I did or didn't do gives me anxiety.

This is something parents both love and hate, simultaneously. On the one hand, you want your kid to grow up. I mean, it's the goal, right? You're acutely aware that so many children don't get the ability to grow up and grow old and learn knew things and go out into the world, so you're grateful your kid can and is and you want them to be healthy, happy, capable and kind members of society.

On the other hand, it's sad. It's just, you know, sad. You wax nostalgic on a regular basis about their tiny little hands and feet when they were newborns; how much they needed you when they were toddlers; how much they looked up to you and respected you and trusted you before they realized that you're just as messed up and flawed as everybody else. It's also scary, because the older they get the less you can protect them. It's the parenting paradox we all love to hate, hate to love, and do our best to live with because, well, our hearts have been outside of our bodies since the day our babies were born.

Look, I went to college so I know what it's like to deal with people vomiting and peeing and even pooping in places they, honestly, shouldn't be vomiting and peeing and pooping in. However, my "rambunctious" college experience (and the bodily fluids that came with it) pale in comparison to parenthood.

My life has been nothing but poop and pee and puke for a little more than two years now, and there's no end in sight, my friends.

If you're a parent in the United States, then you know what I'm talking about. We're the only industrialized nation without mandatory paid family leave, and it's the reason why mothers are returning to work way earlier than they should (putting themselves at risk and their children at a potential disadvantage). It's why parents of all genders don't get the support they need to tend to themselves and their children. It's inexcusable, and there isn't a parent in this country that should be OK with this absolute failure.

And over and over and over and over and over and over...