In my Mother’s Day column a few weeks ago, I shared a bit about my childhood. Growing up, I always knew I wanted to be a momma and a wife. I dreamed about the family I would one day build. But what I didn’t realize back then was how much my definition of a “good
Well folks, it’s pretty safe to say that summer is here. Kids are officially out of school! It’s hard to believe. We have one kiddo going into a brand-new school this fall. Middle school. Then our bigger kid will be a junior in high school. The older they get, the faster time goes, I swear.
Consider this your official public service announcement for the season, coming straight from someone who learned her lesson the hard way. The hard, itchy, miserable, three-week-long hard way. It started with poison oak. If you’ve ever had it, you already know. If you haven’t, count your blessings and keep reading, because what I’m about to
There are certain weekends on the calendar that just mean something. Memorial Day weekend is one of them, and for more reasons than most people stop to think about. Before I talk about camping, cookouts, and the radio station I’ve been waiting all year to turn on, I want to take a moment to say
Every neighborhood has one. You know the one I’m talking about. The house where the cars are always in the driveway (or in our case, dirtbikes), where the door swings open more than it stays shut, where something’s always going on. We are that house, and honestly, it makes me so happy. It started with
Growing up, you always dream about what you want to be when you grow up. Some want to be teachers. Some want to be veterinarians, lawyers, doctors, or nurses. These are beautiful dreams with big titles attached, and it truly takes a special person to fill these shoes. But me? All I ever wanted was
