Y'all, I'm lazy. I'm unapologetic about it even though some people see it as a fault. My kids are loved and well-cared for, but I am no Martha Stewart. I'm not supermom and don't see the point in killing myself to try to be. Thankfully, I'm also not the only one. You can usually tell when you're in the presence of a fellow "lazy mom," because there are certain things every lazy mom just doesn't worry about.
When my older son was a toddler, I was obsessed — and I mean obsessed— with sensory stimulation and enrichment activities. I scoured the internet for ideas and created countless disorganized Pinterest boards. In other words, I was completely off the rails. We did something new every day and if a day passed and I hadn't created a new "provocation" or "invitation to play," I felt like a failure. I set the bar impossibly high for myself and all it ended up leaving me with was an overwhelming feeling of failure and, you know, crap. My son, on the other hand didn't care (and didn't even notice). He was just as happy playing with sticks as he was playing with lavender scented homemade gluten free play dough. (Actually, he much preferred the sticks.)
Once I realized I didn't have to create this Pinterest-perfect, amazing, enriching childhood for him, it was like a lightbulb went off. I didn't have to do anything but simply allow him to be a kid. He didn't need me to create experiences, I just needed to make sure he didn't die or break something valuable. Lazy parenting became my thing and let me tell you, dear reader, I'm pretty damn good at it.