I’m sitting alone at the Seattle airport, on my way to a friend’s bachelorette party. I’m crying. I didn’t cry when my first child, my
If I were to bill my hours like the lawyer I once was (for a very brief period), here’s what this morning would look like:
There’s a great website/Instagram account called Happy as a Mother that publishes these graphics about the “invisible load of motherhood.” They depict allllll the things
I’m obsessing over something this week. Maybe it’s silly, and maybe it’s not. That’s why I’m obsessing over it, I think: Because I don’t know
4th of July with kids > other holidays with kids. I realize I’ve been somewhat pessimistic about holidays with kids. I’m a bad Christmas mom:
The beginning of this is going to sound basic so BEAR WITH ME. The other day I was doing a 20-minute (aka mom-length) Peloton ride