Sarah Bernard

I'm a writer, producer, and TV host, mom to 6-year-old twin girls, and a firm believer that you can shop at Forever 21 no matter how old you are. I write about parenting, style, and the Kardashians -- or as my daughter calls them, "the Princess Jasmines"! But my best material comes from the adorable, wise, and hilariously inappropriate things my daughters say. It’s my right until they’re 18 ... or at least until they learn how to google me.


Sipping on:

Bloody Mary

also find Sarah here:

  • 16 +SHARE

    If you take a car ride with either of my daughters you will certainly know my life story by the end of it and probably my mother's and grandmother's as well. I've got two over-sharers and while it can be charming it can also be awkward. Especially when things I'd rather not broadcast end up illuminated in art projects or included in their classroom journals.

    I recently spotted a journal entry illustrating the "castle" we live in (not true), the time I took them on a late-night ice cream run in their pajamas (OK, once) and a rendering of the four of us sleeping in the same bed like a pile of monkeys. If only I could have added a footnote: "Actually, this rarely happens because if both girls come in our room in the middle of the night, I'll head back into one of their beds. Best sleep ever!"

    From an entirely informal survey of parents' in the same boat, here are the 9 topics of revelation that sting the most.

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    Having kids is the best thing I have ever done and also the hardest. I know if I'd been 10 years younger, I would have been entirely unprepared. If I were 10 years older ... well, we can't all be as lucky as Halle Berry. 

    My parents had me at 35 and I used to wonder why they waited so long even though they looked like kids in all of my baby photos. Now I get it. They were basically kids up until that point!

    I believe the 'sweet spot' of childbearing -- physically and emotionally -- comes after we've all had ample time to check some boxes, get some things out of our systems, and most importantly, time to really, really want the job. In other words, the perfect time to become a mom is in your 30s and here's why:

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    Have you ever been completely annoyed at your own parenting? Occasionally I'll have this kind of out-of-body sensation where while I'm saying something -- and sounding like a grandma from a sitcom -- I'm simultaneously rolling my eyes at myself.

    My husband and I recently taught my 6-year-old daughters how to ride bikes. It was an intense and not all that pleasurable experience and it came with a huge self eye roll.

    My usually chill kids were incredibly frustrated with themselves for not picking it up immediately and possibly more frustrated with us for not being better teachers.

    To be fair, running hunched over alongside a child who is pissed off and covered with tears and snot while simultaneously attempting to not kick their bike's tires or to not get your feet run over, is a lot harder than it looks.

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    When celebrities get invited to the White House Correspondents' Dinner, they generally keep it classy -- i.e., not too much cleavage. Muted makeup. Long hemlines. Sleeves.

    For the occasion, the infamously edgy Katy Perry left her American flag bustier and cat ears at home and went with a demure strapless Giambattista Valli gown with branch detailing at the waist. Her ebony hair was side parted in cascading waves. Her arms looked Michelle-Obama caliber AMAZING. (Take that, John Mayer.)

    This playing-by-the-fashion-rules vibe made her almost unrecognizable, in fact. Has Katy ever met an event she didn't try to upend in some cheeky way? This is the same girl who made blue hair chic and who can pull off a bra made of film canisters. 

    But look closely at a head-to-toe photo like this one of Katy Perry at the White House and you'll see that her inner rebel was in fact in attendance.

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    I grew up eating bologna sandwiches but now that my thinking about food has evolved -- thank you Fast Food Nation, Morgan Spurlock and Michael Pollan -- I can't even look at a hot dog or a chicken finger. Still, both are often in my shopping cart because they are among the few items my 6-year-old daughters will consistently eat.

    Same with sugar. I have read countless articles about how sugar, not fat, is the root of all nutritional evil and my kids eat ice cream or some kind of dessert every night.

    They are skinny kids. This is not about weight (for now). But I find myself having a crisis of conscience about the fact that I have different standards for my food than I do for theirs.

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