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Reflections in My Daughter’s Eyes
I saw it before she said a word, the look I know too well. That quiet ache. The weight of trying to be everything to everyone. The need to fix, to please, to earn love through exhaustion. And for the first time, it hit me: she got that from me. We were talking, really talking,…
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Maybe This is Peace
Forty-one came in hard. Like, neck-spasm, can’t-turn-my-head, parenting-a-toddler kind of hard. Between finalizing Tyler Never Cried (which, by the way, is now officially live on Amazon and going into mass distribution Tuesday, his birthday) and hunching over my computer for three days straight, I think I became one with my office chair. There’s something poetic about writing through…
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Grace at Forty One
Forty-one doesn’t come with balloons or a guidebook. It just sort of arrives, quietly like a text message you weren’t expecting but somehow needed. It’s the year I stopped trying to prove myself and started trying to know myself. The year I realized that peace doesn’t look like having it all together; it looks like…
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The Invisible Weight
Today wasn’t about bleachers and pretty pictures. It was work. We set up equipment, hauled props, and ran when things broke. Between prelims and finals, we patched up bruised girls, handed out water, and watched over overheated kids. There were no stands to sit in, no chance to just be a spectator ,only to stay…
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Cold Lo Mein and Lessons That Last
The floorboards in Nanny’s hallway creaked like they were trying to rat me out. I’d tiptoe barefoot through the dark, heart pounding, convinced she could hear every step. The fridge light would flood the kitchen like a stage spotlight, and there it was…magic in a white carton: cold lo mein. At my house, takeout was…
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Choose You Every Day
We talk a lot about being invisible moms…the ones who fold socks no one notices, refill snacks before anyone asks, and quietly keep the house running. But lately, I’ve been feeling like an invisible wife, too. I love my husband. He isn’t careless or unkind. If anything, he’s too much of a people pleaser. It…
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When the Children Raise Us
My oldest son turned 22 this week. Twenty-two. And I’m over here wondering how the hell that happened. It feels like I just learned how to hold a baby…how to burp him, how to rock him at 2 a.m. when I was too tired to stand. But at the same time, it feels like I’ve…
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Tiny Pieces of Me
Motherhood is the art of becoming everything for everyone else. Chauffeur. Homework helper. Snack dispenser. Human calendar. Finder of the shoes that “just disappeared.” And somewhere in the mix, the me part gets lost. I used to have hobbies. I used to have a sense of style, a soundtrack, and ambitions that weren’t sandwiched between dance, guard…
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The Fun Mom Died at 33 Pounds Lost
Being fat was easier. There, I said it. It was easier to drink soda without a second thought. Easier to say yes to fried, buttery, delicious food without worrying about how I’d feel after. Easier to tell my husband, “Just grab me whatever they’ve got,” because whatever they had was fine by me. And honestly? I was…
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The Load We Don’t Count
Right now, I’m clocking about 30 to 40 hours a week at night writing books. On top of that, I’m putting in anywhere from 30 to 60 hours on my company, depending on the week. That’s two full-time jobs, and neither one of them has “Mom” in the title. But then there’s homeschooling. The house.…
Crumbs and Chaos 