My name is Ashley and I am twenty-three years old and a first time mom...something that is not totally "in vogue" in many parts of the country. I have no luxury vehicle, baby trust fund, or uber successful career under my belt...but I've got a lot of love. A lot of love that I fully intend on lavishing on my little girl, unapologetically and with abandon for the rest of my life. In my mind it is that, not the car or job or back-stock in dollars, that most qualifies me to be a parent.

My husband and I are middle school sweethearts. In fact, on our first "date" (when his parents took us to a Braves game) we looked exactly like this. I do not remember who won the game...but I was pretty sure (even then) that I had met the one for me.

Fast forward ten years..this is us celebrating our third wedding anniversary...and even though our "romantic evening" consisted of going literally down the street to the local Mexican joint, chasing our chips and salsa with a plethora of pills (from a plastic baggie, no less), and me sobbing sporadically throughout the meal (because OH THE HORMONES...someone should send you home from the hospital with a sign attached to you that reads "SO MUCH AS SPEAK, and this woman will cry"), there is nowhere that I would rather be and no one whom I would rather be with than you, my love.

Fast forward just a little bit....my little song-bird will be two-weeks-old tomorrow...and I cannot believe it. She already seems so big to me. I am finally out of the baby blues fog (which felt like it would never, ever end). I am still baffled by the depth and darkness of the feelings that closed in on me when we got home from the hospital. Hormones...I hate you, and I am glad to see you go...don't let the door hit you in the butt on the way out (or do, I couldn't care less).

I get so sad when I read blogs, forums, and witness where moms are so hard on one another. We are our own worst critics...and we shouldn't be. Breast feeders and formula feeders, attachment parenters and self-soothers, working and stay-at-home moms...it would be so much better if we were all in this together.

Each and every "you really shouldn't be doing that" should turn into "you're doing a great job...here, let me help you if/when you fall". Because we all fall...because no parent (or person) is perfect.