When my husband was a month old, he was hospitalized with croup. They weren't sure if he was going to make it. My mother-in-law documented his entire stay in a yellow, three subject spiral notebook. She wrote down every time he coughed, what it sounded like, and any other information pertaining to his illness. She… Continue reading Writing Motherhood
I had my first essay accepted and published. I feel so honored to have my words on The Village Magazine today. This essay took months for me to complete and it is such a tender piece of my heart. You can read it here.
"Mom, what I do without you?" He asks as he wraps his arms around my waist and lays his head on my stomach. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, rub his back and say it back to him, "what would I do without you, buddy?" I really don’t know. ... Most nights bedtime… Continue reading On Letting Go
My alarm pulls me out of whatever deep sleep I can muster with toddler feet in my face at 5 am. I contort my body to turn it off, without opening my eyes my finger finds my phone and turns off the alarm. I roll over and try to fall into a deep sleep, irritated… Continue reading Finding Creative Time
“Love proves itself by deeds, so how am I to show my love? Great deeds are forbidden me. The only way I can prove my love is by… every little sacrifice, every glance and word, and the doing of the least actions for love.” - Saint Therese I read something recently in an email subscription… Continue reading Magic Maker
image via When I met my husband seven years ago I was at my weakest. I was broken hearted and my dreams had recently been shattered. I was fearful of the future, the unknown, what (and who) I would become. He loved me anyway, let me know that it wasn't a career that made me… Continue reading Strands of Gold
I don’t give myself enough credit as a mom. I don’t acknowledge how capable I am or that there is enough grace to cover the fear that hangs heavy on my shoulders.
We are all looking for someone who understands what our daily lives look like, who understands how beautifully messy motherhood truly is, someone to acknowledge that motherhood is a captivating contradiction.
I’m realizing though, for someone who *thinks* she likes who she is becoming, I am still fighting the inner critic telling me I’m not enough
Though a part of me was sad to see that beautiful- though exhausting- part of our relationship come to an end, I am grateful to have my body back,