Kids

My brain seems to have stopped functioning at its full capacity, and I am simply going through the motions of loading the car and unloading the car at this point. Kids? Check. Purse? Check. Shoes? Check. Towels? Purely optional. Sunblock? Check.

No one ever told me I was great, even just good, just as I was. That’s step one.

Becoming a parent is a blessed and sacred event. Never has there been a more life altering experience. No, seriously.

Even when I explained to my son that he came from a long line of short people, it didn’t help. David still felt bad about being small. How could a five-year-old possibly get this type of size-shaming message? From other people, mostly insensitive adults. They gave him the idea that bigger was somehow better.

Oh HOLY NIGHT. Can you even imagine how much laundry five children and two adults (and three dogs and a cat) create? The answer is: No. You cannot.

Working as a stay-at-home mom benefits your kids. Working out of the home benefits your kids. In other words: you’re doing it right. Yes, you. All of you.

"Who puts folded shirts on top of your closet shelf? I can hardly reach the hangers, alone. Honestly, people."

"Sometimes David wore his hair spiked like a cockscomb. Others, he wore it feathery like a baby chick. He wore his Mohawk to summer camp (exchanging encouraging head chucks with another older camper who sported one, too) and even to Vacation Bible School—no judgment there."