Getting older can be depressing, but I'm learning to embrace who I am at 35.

I hate to admit it, but I’ve always struggled with getting older. I was an emotional basket case upon turning 30. It just sounded so old. So the hubs took me out on the town for the evening, and I tried to feel young again as I bid farewell to my 20s. (We also made another kid that night, so that’s what going out and trying to reclaim your youth will get you!) And this year, I turned 35. Another tough one. That same man helped me ring in this big day by lovingly telling me that I’m now on the back-end of my 30s. (There was no baby-making that night.)

As tough as it is getting older, I am enjoying being a grownup, and especially upon my 35th year, I’ve learned quite a bit about myself.

1. I’ve learned that it is more fun to enjoy one or two quality beers or glasses of wine than getting fall-over drunk on cheap-ass keg beer in a red solo cup (even if it was only $5, or free if I brought two friends).

2. I’ve also stopped caring about meaningless stuff like getting a zit. Seriously, I really don’t give a fuck. Yep, that’s a zit. On my face. And I’m 35. Don’t care.

3. Monica had 11 categories of towels? At 35, I have 11 categories of comfy clothes. Some are for bed, some are for taking my kids to school (those often overlap), some are for going out to dinner with the husband. The point is, everything I wear is comfortable on my body. Kim K. and her sisters can have their waist-training corsets. I’m all set. If I have to suck my stomach in, it ain’t goin’ on. I plan on eating and drinking and enjoying life in all 11 categories of clothing I own.

4. With that said, my metabolism isn’t what it used to be. I want to live for a long time and witness how badly I’ve screwed up my kids as they enter adulthood. Age 35 brought moderation. I DO have a love affair with bacon. I DON’T order multiple forms of fried cheese four nights a week like I did at 20. I DO exercise. I DON’T exercise every day. Because, life.

5. Stuff is gonna jiggle, forever. I’m over it.

6. Someone is always going to not like me. I cannot possibly be who I am — an often outspoken, inappropriate, yet God-fearing, dedicated mom, and expect everyone to think I am amazing. I try to be a good person, and I like to laugh. I screw up sometimes. I try to apologize. I never intentionally offend anyone (unless the person’s last name rhymes with Crump, Best, or Pardashian). But inevitably, someone won’t like my humor, or my parenting style, or will think the zit on my face is too much to bear. I need to be okay with that.

7. I’m a work in progress. I am not who I was at 30. When I started this blog and became a SAHM, there was no way in HELL I was doing a craft or trying a new recipe. Now, five years later, I’m rocking like a 65% success rate with my cooking. I’ve scored a few “Wow, Mom! This is yummy!” from the kids here and there. My Pinterest fails are… well, they’re still there. I am still me. But maybe by 90, I’ll be toting a glue gun around in my fanny pack making wreaths for my gal-pals at the old folks home. All I know is, I’m evolving and learning to accept change and growth and say that it is okay that I don’t have it all figured out yet.

So yeah, this grownup stuff can suck at times. I miss dairy, but this 35-year old stomach can’t seem to hang out with yogurt or cheese much anymore. But that’s okay. I’ll just enjoy my beer and wine. And bacon. At least I can still have bacon.

When a mother is faced with what seems like an insurmountable challenge, she's often asked "how she does it." The answer is simple: She just does.My husband is getting ready to leave for a work trip, which will last between four and six weeks. He will not come home at all during this time, and we will probably talk to him once a day at the most due to his intense schedule. Whenever one of his long work trips is approaching, my fellow mom friends always say, “I don’t know how you do it.”

How do I do it? Part of me wears it like a badge of honor. Because, I’ll be honest. It is fucking hard. I have three kids under seven. I have been pregnant, nursing newborns with toddlers underfoot, potty-training, fighting a whole-house stomach flu, and hiding from tornadoes during some of these trips. They are long. And I am pulled veeeeeery thin. But at the end, I am able to look back at the weeks of doing it all — all of the bedtimes, all of the soccer practices, all of the cooking, all of the snow-shoveling, all of the middle of the night bad dreams, and feel a sense of pride. Turns out, I can do it. How? I just do.

One mindset that helps me through the darkest of days (usually around week three, I hit a wall), is to think of other moms, moms whose lives are different, harder, and I wonder how they do it.

Military wives, when your husband is fighting overseas for a year, how do you do it? How do you put on a brave face for your kids every single day?

Moms of kids with special needs, how do you do it? How do you find the strength, the energy, to put one foot in front of the other, each morning?

Moms of multiples, oh my insanity. How the frick do you do your life?

Moms who work 12-hour shifts and come home to help your children with homework, cook dinner, do the laundry, and pack lunches for tomorrow, how do you do it?

Moms who are competing, climbing the corporate ladder, all the while raising a family at home, how in the hell do you do it all?

Moms who are terrified of homelessness because there is no money to pay the rent, how on earth do you get through your days?

Shit, your lives are hard. I honestly cannot imagine how you do it, but I’ll bet, if I asked you, your answer would be a lot like mine. You just do it. And that’s what I’ll say, if you ask me, around week three or four of my husband’s upcoming work trip. I’ll probably look worn out, and I might have less patience for my 2-year old’s tantrums in the cereal aisle. I may let the kids watch too many screens. And I’ll probably order A LOT of pizza. But if you ask me, or ask any of us who may face a challenge, whether it is a month-long or a life-long challenge, how we do it, there is really one answer. “We just do it.”

There are things we learn to love as we become mothers, but we often hate how much we love them. And need them.There are aspects of child-raising that we, as parents, grow to love. And hate. But love ’em or hate ’em, we need them. To survive. Here are 6 love-hate relationships that tell the tale of motherhood.

1. The pacifier

Why you love it: This tiny object is magical. There is no greater feeling that popping that sucker (literally) back into your baby’s mouth at 3:00 in the morning. Baby fussing at Sunday brunch? Pacifier in. And… silence! Mommy’s trying to catch up with an old friend? Where’s the binky? There it is! “Now where were we? Your husband did WHAT?” (Your gossip sesh can now commence.) Your dependence on the pacifier runs so deep that you now see the value in strategically placing several around the crib so that baby can find her own now at 3 a.m. and Mommy won’t even have to get out of bed. Genius!

Why you hate it: Try taking a 12-hour road trip with that same fussy baby. In her anger at being stuck in her seat, she has thrown or spit out all of her pacifiers. They are gone, lost in the abyss that is your mini-van on hour 8 of the drive. It is the middle of the night. You and your husband are desperately searching for the nearest 24-hour Walgreens or Walmart so you can find more of these tiny rubbery plastic things that wield their power over you and your sanity. And then, once your adorable baby turns into a toddler, guess what, Mommy? It’s time for her to give that sucker up. Society is judging you. Grandmas are making comments at the grocery store, like, “Isn’t she a bit old for that thing?” So now you get to experience the joys of the bye-bye pacifier plan, which brings us to love-hate relationship #2.

2. Coffee

Why you love it: Now that you’ve taken away the holy binky, your toddler hasn’t slept in weeks and refuses to nap. Coffee is now your savior more than ever before. While you love the smell and taste of your morning joe and your fancy pumpkin spice creamer, it is really about the caffeine. Prior to that first sip, your vision is foggy, the toddler battles of the night before seem like a dream, and you stare blankly at the pile of dishes in the sink, wondering how the hell you’ll muster the energy to parent today. But 1/2 cup in, your energy spikes, and you start to feel like Mommy again. By the end of the first cup, you can actually make words, change diapers, and pour milk into cereal bowls.

Why you hate it: Yes, coffee makes it all better, but what if you run out? It is 5:45 in the fucking morning. It is still dark out. You fumble in the dimly lit kitchen for the coffee canister and open it to discover that there is no more. Shit! You now vaguely recall using up the rest yesterday and writing yourself a note to buy more (a note which was then buried under permission slips, fundraising flyers, and a colored picture of Hello Kitty). Holy crap. You would pay $400 for Starbucks delivery right now. Your dependence on this crack-juice is debilitating.

3. Nursing

Why you love it: It’s free. It’s always there. You can’t forget to pack your boobs. You won’t have any “Shit! I forgot the baby’s food” moments, because it’s all inside your engorged milk mountains. Baby’s hungry at McDonald’s? In the car? At church? Here’s a nipple. Boom. Done.

Why you hate it: It’s free. It’s always there. You can’t forget to pack your boobs. And baby knows it. You’re a factory, with no vacation, no weekends, no time card to punch in or out. You are the refrigerator, the pantry, and the secret snack drawer all-in-one, for the next 6 months. Want to meet your husband for happy hour on Friday? Hahahaha. Good luck.

4. Netflix

Why you love it: It is instantly available. There are 7,873 choices. The kids (or you) will always find something to watch. Gone are the days of “that isn’t on right now” or “we don’t get that channel.” Chances are, it’s on Netflix. Also, it never ends. One show rolls right on into the next. You can binge-watch Orange is the New Black now that the kids are back in school and never even have to shift in your seat to reach the remote. And if you don’t want to see or hear your kids for 6.5 hours straight, they can do the same (hopefully not with OITNB, but hey — we all parent differently).

Why you hate it: Netflix makes you feel bad about yourself as a parent. It is so easy, as the kids ask for “just one more show?” and you see “The next episode of Pokemon will start in 11 seconds…” on the screen, to say okay. I mean, what’s one more, right? Even though their eyes are starting to gloss over and they’ve lost the ability to speak or move their limbs. Damn you, Netflix! Why must you tempt us parents and be so difficult to turn off?! We want to be better parents. Sometimes.

5. The I-Pad

Why you love it: The I-Pad is the baby’s pacifier 5 years later. It makes your life immensely easier. Going on a long car ride? I-Pad! Done. Mom needs a little quiet time? “Go up to your room. And yes, you can take the I-Pad.” Those are the only words you need to say and, like magic, the house is quiet. And similar to Netflix, it provides instant gratification. What kids, your spoiled little selves are bored with the 843 apps we already have? Sure, download another. What’s $1.99?

Why you hate it: Like other love-hate relationships, your reliance on this toy is crippling. If forgotten, your children are left to entertain themselves out in the world. They stare at each other, and you, in confusion. What do we do now, Mommy? You then realize how much you’ve failed in preparing them for the world outside of Minecraft. You try to engage them in conversation, or play fun imaginative games to stimulate brain development. Really, you’re counting down the minutes until you can all return to your pitiful screen-driven worlds again.

6. Nap time

Why you love it: Who doesn’t? What mother is not like Julie Andrews dancing through a meadow once she realizes her kids are asleep? Nap time is bliss. It is sacred. No, I will not call you during nap time. Nap time is Mommy-time, quiet-time, read a book, watch grown up TV, or even sadly fold clothes in peace time. And so help you, Mr. UPS delivery man, if you ring my damn doorbell between 1:00 and 3:00.

Why you hate it: It runs your life. What? Your kindergartener has a school performance at 2:00? WTF?! How will you do that? And what if the toddler falls asleep in the car and will not transfer? This level of despair is unmatched by most other events in life, as you realize your hope for nap time is dissipating. Once your child grows out of nap and you bid farewell to this coveted time of serenity, you find that you do have more freedom, and attending your son’s soccer game at 1:00 is not the end of the world. And bonus: your kid will probably pass out at 7 p.m. in the evening, allowing an extra hour or two of Mommy-wine time!

Motherhood: A time of contradiction, a time when when we love and simultaneously loathe the things we rely on most. Rational? No, not always. But don’t tell us that. Just hand us some hot coffee, stick the pacifier in the baby’s mouth, and let us binge-watch Scandal already.