This classification system the result of many years of expert study. I have a Masters Degree in Yoga Pants.

Tier One: Fancy

These yoga pants are real pants. You can wear them to school pick up and Target without hesitation and may briefly consider wearing them to work/church/date night too. They are still black and have no holes or bleach stains. They fit without giving you a terrible muffin top and are not see through. When you wear these pants you are saying: “I appreciate both comfort and fashion. I may be a busy moden woman but I still make time to take care of myself!”

Tier Two: Acceptable

Your Tier Two yoga pants are probably from Old Navy. They still fit but might have fuzzies from where your thighs rub together or a small hole in the cuff. These are the pants you are mostly likely to wear if you were to actually do yoga. You wear them for running errands but only after thinking “Maybe I should put on some jeans” (you do not put on jeans). When you wear these pants you are saying: “I was just running in to this store for a second on my way to spin class because we were all out the organic mac and cheese cups.”

Tier Three: Poor

These yoga pants are reserved for at home days. They might technically be pajamas but no one can prove that. They are the pants you wore yesterday and are still wearing today. You only wear them with long shirts because they fall down a lot – not because you lost weight from all that yoga but because the elastic is all stretched out. They aren’t really black anymore. When you wear these pants you are saying: “I totally forgot we had ballet class this morning.  I was just going to clean the bathroom.”

Tier Four: Cannot Even

All your other pants are in the actual wash. Not the laundry – you pulled these out of the laundry – but soaking wet in the washing machine. Yes, you do know there’s a hole in the crotch and spaghetti sauce on the leg and they’re dragging on the ground. THANKS for point that out. But your kid told you ten minutes ago that tomorrow is 100 day at school so you have to go find 100 f**king beads or something because otherwise he’s going to insist on bringing 100 Legos and God knows those things aren’t cheap and no way are you letting him lose that one little grey piece he absolutely CANNOT finnish Batman’s spaceship without because then you will NEVER hear the END OF IT so how about you just let me worry about my pants until I can get home and open a bottle of wine??? When you wear these pants you are saying: “I HAVE GIVEN UP ON EVERYTHING DON’T TALK TO ME.”

Other Guidelines: Pants can be demoted but not promoted, although you can mend holes on seams to give Tier Two pants a fighting chance.

There is a subclass for maternity yoga pants, which begin at Tier One but are automatically moved to Tier Three at 2 weeks post partum.

You cannot own too many pairs of yoga pants.

1. Buy the right car seat.
There are no actual guidelines for what constitutes “right”, so be sure to read lots and lots and lots of reviews on Amazon. 200 at least. And don’t bother reading the 197 positive 5 star reviews – sort by 1 star and be sure to take VERY SERIOUSLY the three people who HATED that particular seat because their baby got stung by a bee while sitting in it. What kind of MONSTER doesn’t buy a bee-repelling car seat? Also take into consideration what color your baby’s eyes will be and order a seat in a color that really makes them pop. Since you need a car seat to bring your infant home from the hospital and cannot actually SEE your baby’s eyes before it is born, you will definitely buy the wrong seat. Wow, you didn’t even make it to the end of the first tip. You should probably stay home.

2. Pack lots of snacks.
You will have to stop a lot of times to feed your newborn, because newborns are lazy and refuse to just feed themselves pretzels and Twizzlers like everyone else does on road trips. But don’t expect you will actually get to eat or drink ANYTHING when you stop. This is not your time, this is BABY’S TIME. It doesn’t really matter what kinds of snacks you bring, since you’ll be blindly shoving it into your mouth while keeping your eyes on the road. I recommend crunchy things – the sound of yourself chewing helps drown out the screaming from bee stings.

3. Avoid traffic.
Since I am sure usually you enjoy sitting through construction, accidents and other acts of God you have no control over, actively avoid those things when you have a newborn traveling with you. If you cannot see into the future and/or predict traffic slow downs, invest in a psychic or perhaps a hoverjet.

4. Wear your baby.
OBVIOUSLY not while you’re driving, but at some point you will need to pee. It is easier to do so when you don’t have to also hold a baby with your arms and hands. Just like the car seat, it is important that you buy the RIGHT baby carrying device. Check out the lively world of online parenting message boards, which are not at all full of people screaming at each other over which kind of baby carrier is the best. Remember, a $600 organic hand woven sling is clearly superior to the kind you can just borrow from a friend, because the more something costs the more babies like it. This is why all babies prefer those wooden black and white educational toys to the car keys you just dropped in the parking lot.

5. Bring help.
Consider hiring the following people: nanny, wet nurse, car seat installer, personal chef, therapist, barista, and driver. Since bring ALL those people would require a much larger car than you probably own, try to find help who can multitask – there’s no reason someone can’t make you a latte while nursing your baby. If you have to bring just ONE person, your spouse will be fine. I guess. Can they make coffee?

6. Order the correct baby.
Did you get one of those newborns that hates riding in the car? An unreasonable baby that doesn’t sleep in 4+ hour chunks right from the beginning? Does your infant take hours to eat instead of efficiently chugging their milk/formula? Unexplained screaming? Poopsplosions? Colic? Clearly your baby is defective. Check your warranty paperwork to find out where to get your baby repaired. If you cannot locate your paperwork (people often seem to misplace it) send me $500 and I can get the Department of Perfect Children to mail you another copy. It’s no problem, happy to help.

Now you are ready for your road trip! It should be a very fun and relaxing activity, with lots of good opportunities to take and share beautiful Instagram photos of yourself in your adorable yet casual driving clothes standing on the beach or in front of a quaint farm stand or local landmarks. Remember to take at least one where you breastfeed in a field while staring peacefully into the distance, to prove you are a good mother. Good luck to you and your baby!

Momphemisms. Like euphemisms, for moms? What, aren’t bloggers allowed to make up words anymore?

Dressed, verb. “I got dressed today!” = Yoga pants and sweatshirt.

Dressed up, verb. “I made sure I dressed up for the PTA meeting.” = Clean yoga pants and sweatshirt plus a bra.

Free play, noun. “Oh I encourage lots of free play during the day. It’s so good for their imaginations.” = Letting your kid destroy the house so you can have 20 minutes of peace.

Baby, noun. “I have two babies, they’re 24 and 30.” = Any child, at any age, ever.

Preschool, noun. “Hello, school district? Can you tell me about my preschool options for my baby? What do you mean they can’t start until they’re FOUR? = Anywhere you send your kid from ages 0 to 6 that feeds them a snack and involves any sort of circle time.

Clean, adjective. “Yes, my house is clean.” = All the part of my house you are going to see are clean. Just don’t open any doors.

Lunch, noun. “Kids, come in here, it’s time for lunch!” = Any variety of edible items put on a plate, bowl, bag, cup or floor offered between the hours of 10 am and 3 pm.

Educational toy, noun. “We only buy educational toys for our children.” = ALL TOYS.

Tired, adjective. “I’m pretty tired after the day I had with the kids.” = So exhausted you should not legally be allowed to drive/operate heavy machinery/use the stove.

Fun, adjective or noun. “Yes honey, pretending to be a horsey while you kick me in the ribs is super fun!” = The things we do for our children.

Romance, noun. “You have to make time for romance in your life, even after you have kids.” = Watching The Office and drinking wine.

Vacation, noun. “I need a vacation.” = DEAR GOD PLEASE SOMEONE ELSE WATCH THESE CHILDREN FOR FIVE MINUTES.

We had a really “fun” day yesterday so I’m pretty “tired”. You can do better – add them in the comments!

When you’re a mom, it’s important to take some time for yourself and continue to enjoy the things you used to before having kids…with a few minor modifications. Here’s a handy guide to your new life:

A relaxing spa day: Fluffy robe, aromatherapy massage, chatting with girlfriends, mimosa in the quiet room, pedicure.

Mom Version: Locking the bathroom door and peeing alone while your kids scream from the hallway and you sniff a bottle of baby shampoo.

Date Night: High heels, shaved legs, nice dress, sushi, bottle of wine, maybe a movie in a theater.

Mom Version: Flannel pants, pizza and Cars 2 because the Redbox at the grocery store was broken, in bed by 10 pm.

Shopping: Anthropologie, Pottery Barn, your favorite vintage shop, all while sipping a non-fat soy mocha latte.

Mom Version: Pushing a giant car-shaped cart through Target, buying shirts you didn’t trying on, sharing a slushy with a toddler who loudly demands new toys.

Going for a drive: Cruising in a convertible, stopping at a scenic overlook to take some photos, listening to classic rock

Mom Version: Circling the block for 45 minutes, playing Angry Birds on your phone in the driveway once the kids fall asleep.

Sleeping in: 11:30 am

Mom Version: 8 am

Cooking a gourmet meal: Blood Orange, Beet and Fennel Salad, Chard and Mushroom-Stuffed Breast of Veal,White Chocolate-Mint Pots de Crème with Candy Cane Brittle, $75 bottle of wine.

Mom version: Serving real grated Parmesan with the spaghetti instead of the powdered kind from a green can, wine someone gave you for Christmas 3 years ago

Vacation: Spur of the moment weekend getaway to Montreal, bed and breakfast, carriage ride, antiquing

Mom version: Disneyworld, planned a year in advance, breakfast with a person-sized Mickey Mouse that makes your kid cry

Wine tasting: At a vineyard

Mom Version: From a box

Seeing a show: Secret Radiohead concert at underground club you can only get into with a password

Mom Version: The Fresh Beat Band Live!

Romantic evening: Cocktails, fire place, lingerie, chocolate covered strawberries

Mom Version: Ahahahahaha what? I could be SLEEPING right now.

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See? Practically the same! What other Mom Life activities do you enjoy?

Some people wonder if there is a God.

I wonder why in the name of God it takes men so long to crap.

When does this phenomenon start, exactly? I know for a fact my toddler can squeeze one out in the 15 seconds between “Mama! Potty!” and dragging him into the bathroom. BAM. Instant poop. And yet wives everywhere are standing by the door for 20 minutes, holding their purse and sighing because just as they were headed out their husband said “Oh, I want to use the bathroom before we go.”

I will admit that since becoming a mom I do my fair share of hiding in the bathroom with a magazine or my iPhone just for the PEACE AND QUITE that comes from a closed door and a ventilation fan. But 90% of the time I’m doing it with my pants on. I’ve been pregnant for 18 of the last 34 months. The hemorrhoid situation is bad enough on it’s own without an hour sitting on the toilet. AREN’T YOU GLAD I SHARED THAT? I’ve also mastered the art of getting my business done in the 20 seconds between “uh oh the baby is waking up and needs to nurse but I have GOT to GO” and “screaming starving angry baby that will take no less than 90 minutes to get back to sleep”. If there was a speed pooping event at the Olympics, I’d win a gold medal.

But men? Men are the three-toed-sloth of going number 2. They spend so long crapping moss might grow on them. Is it a biological thing? Did I miss a day in health class that explained that humans with Y chromosomes need extra time in their schedule for bowel movements? It might have been the same day they explained why Mortal Kombat is awesome or the appeal of backwards baseball caps.

My theory is that crapping themselves is every guy’s BIGGEST FEAR and so as soon as they get the tiniest inkling of an idea that maybe they might have to poop sometime soon they run for the bathroom.

And women everywhere who have pooped on the delivery table scoff at them.

It’s mildly annoying at home – “Sorry I left you with two screaming children while you were in the middle of making dinner! Nature called! And we had a really really long chat! Is it time to eat?” – but it’s completely awful in public. The 20 square feet around the entrance to a rest stop bathroom isn’t exactly the most child-friendly place on Earth and there’s a limited amount of time a toddler is entertained by a water fountain before you are both soaking wet and crying.

And that fulfills my poop-talk quota for the month. Why no, potty training is NOT going super-well. What makes you ask?