When I found out that my last child was a girl, I cried. I might have TOLD you it was allergies or dust or something, but that'd have been a lie. I cried because I was so grateful that I'd have a chance at having a daughter. A girl of my own. Something I never thought I'd have.

This is what I want her to know.

It took me years to leave my girls with a babysitter. But now there are days when I really just need the down time; a couple hours to be in quiet and hear my own thoughts, remember a grocery list, or finish a sentence without interruption. On the rare occasions I need a sitter, it sometimes seems like I'd do just about anything to get those few precious moments of freedom. Even lie.

After all, I want to make sure the sitter won't be scared off by what really happens in my house. You know what I mean, right?

Here are a few white lies to try to ensure you can get a sitter who will care for your kids.

Remember when you had your first baby and you were filled with the irrational fear that you’d take them home and break them immediately? They were perfect and you wanted them to stay that way. Ah, those were the days.

The second baby? Not so much. It's called second baby syndrome and it's real.

The first time you read every parenting book. You bought all the right toys, gadgets, and recommended baby products. Everything had to be perfect. The second time? Not so much.

When I was pregnant, I was convinced that just a few months after the babies were born, I'd be back to my fighting weight, all trim and toned and better than ever. So what if I might never have time to work out -- just carrying them would turn my flabby ham hock arms into lean, mean, Michelle Obama-style machines, duh. And, I'd be so busy with the twins that I'd barely eat, right? And I guess that I'd also decided that once I was a hot, skinny MILF (forget that I've never ever been skinny), I'd buy a whole new wardrobe with all of the extra cash I would have after caring, feeding and diapering two babies.

Now, for some strange reason, none of this actually happened -- I still have lots of baby weight to lose, sweats are my style staple, and I consistently seem to have mysterious orange stains on whatever raggedy T-shirt I'm wearing. So, yeah, I guess you could say that I've officially let myself go. No, I'm not proud of it, and yet, I just can't seem to make it stop.

Ask any new mother how she's handling life with a newborn, and she'll likely admit to being sleep-deprived, overwhelmed, a little out of it. But many new Moms, although not always likely to admit it, often feel depressed, out-of-control, and guilty that they're not more in love with their brand-new bundle of joy. For many, it's postpartum depression. For others though, it's a little more low-grade, more post-baby blues than full-blown depression. You worry that life is always going to be this exhausting and confusing, and wonder if maybe you weren't cut out to be a mother.

That was me about four months ago, and I'm confessing to it now because once I talked about it more, I realized that I wasn't alone in my feelings. Now, I love everything about being a Mommy, and I couldn't be more in love with my beautiful, happy, healthy baby boys. But back then, a part of me wondered, "Oh no, what have I done?"

It's hard being a new mom (or even an experienced mom to a new baby) and sometimes we do things we know we shouldn't, despite what all the experts say. But this is a safe place to share your secrets (PM me)—we'll never tell.

This Week's Secret:

It's hard being a new mom (or even an experienced mom to a new baby) and sometimes we do things we know we shouldn't, despite what all the experts say. But this is a safe place to share your secrets (PM me)—we'll never tell.

This Week's Secret:

It's hard being a new mom (or even an experienced mom to a new baby) and sometimes we do things we know we shouldn't, despite what all the experts say. But this is a safe place to share your secrets (PM me)—we'll never tell.

This Week's Secret: