On any given day, I go through such a range of emotions when it comes to my children that it makes my head spin. Love, happiness, anger, elation, pride, discouragement, worry, and then some.
Grandma, you are one of the smartest people I’ve ever known, putting you in the company of Oxford laureates. You were and are beautiful and brilliant.
I think that empathy helps make me a helpful, compassionate mother. But it’s also really freaking exhausting.
Dear Sleepless Mom: I get it. Some babies are hard. Mine was. But I’ll tell you something. With time, it does get easier.
My first Thanksgiving with my husband was an absolute disaster. And there was one lesson I learned: always have backup gravy.
“Noooooo,” my older son yelped as we got near the front of the ride, backing away.
My dad served his country, ready to defend it with his life for over two decades. I feel a fierce pride and Veterans Day reminds me of that pride.
After a decade of marriage, birthing four mini-me’s, and turning into a SAHM, I am
It was to be my daughter’s last night in her crib, and the first “last” I truly stopped to take in. That night dinner waited in the oven, an article remained unwritten on my computer, and an unbuilt toddler bed sat upstairs, but I stopped.
I’m fat. I hate it and sometimes I hate my body. But I’m done feeling this way. I’m committing to myself. I’m going to lose weight.
