Heather I
Dear Momma Trying to Make Christmas Perfect
Dear Momma Trying to Make Christmas Perfect,
Please stop.
I know your stress. It’s deep. It’s binding—the chaining of emotions to unattainable perfection.
I used to be...
When Wanting More Collides with Christmas
It’s Christmas. The Season of Giving. But I’m struggling. Struggling because I want.
I’ve spent the last week driving around new subdivisions. Dreaming. Houses with...
10 Rules for a Not Bummer Summer
Eighteen.
The number of emails I might receive in an hour. Or the loads of laundry I finish in a week. Or the times I...
When Mommas Lose It
I hit the wall. My daughter, Ella, was two and I slammed my palm into drywall. To keep myself from doing the unthinkable, I...
Please. Don’t Correct My Kid for Using Manners.
“Don’t call me sir. That’s my father. You can call me Gary*.” The sales associate looked at my twelve year old girl with a...
Notes to Self as I Turn Forty
I turned 40 yesterday. I’ll be honest. I’m not sure how I feel about this giant leap into middle age. But I know how...
Because the Village Still Matters
We sat across from one another sipping our coffee. She was traveling back to her college campus and had asked if we could meet. I jumped...
Will the Real Valentine’s Day Please Rise?
Valentine’s Day.
I have a love-hate relationship with the day. I know I’m not the only one.
It began in middle and high school when I...
Dead Possums Are Fair Game, A Review
A few weeks ago, I had lunch on a Saturday, wait for it—without the kids. Not only was my lunch date void of playing...
When Our Children Fight Us
Her ballet class had been cancelled, and there was no homework. We had an afternoon that wasn’t defined by a dizzying pace of here...
Busting the Busy Mom Myth
A few weekends ago chaos peaked. All four members of my household dove into the dirty clothes to pull out something they needed. My family...
Making the Difference for Just One
A few months ago I tucked my Ella-girl into bed, prayed over her, and kissed her goodnight. She always clicks off her own lamp,...
Raising Our Sons to Be Fathers
A few days ago I received a gift. My five-year-old son, Caleb, fell asleep in the car. Woo Hoo! Because silence is golden. But...
When Your Motherhood is Tired
Hey, Momma.
I know.
I know those tired eyes and that sleepy soul. I see the dirt smudges on your knees from crawling through playground tunnels....
Breast is Best. Right?
So here’s the thing. Breastfeeding? It was kinda horrific for me.
Eleven years ago, my daughter was born three weeks early. Not premature, but tiny...




















