Over the weekend—yes, Mother's Day weekend—I went away by myself for a night. Sounds kind of counterintuitive, I know. Didn't I want to wake up on . . .
I remember the exact day—the exact moment—when I realized I didn't have to keep pushing. It was August 19, 2016, the day after my birthday, and my . . .
Y'all a professional photographer I am not. I don't shoot in manual. I don't have the best lens. I make a ton of amateur mistakes. But I've worked . . .
About once a week, our kids eat hot dogs for dinner. Another night, it's grilled cheese sandwiches. Every Friday is pizza for supper. It's not . . .
Last weekend, I spent the night with a dozen girlfriends in a 170-year-old farmhouse over a few glasses of wine and a roaring fire. I was in my happy . . .
One of my dearest friends in the world used to be afraid of flying. Like crazy afraid. We'd prep for weeks before a trip, and one spring break in . . .
Every spring, it never fails. Like clockwork, as soon as the temperatures rise and the rainy season starts, we have an ant invasion on . . .
You know February 14th is approaching when the Target dollar section transforms from New Year's confetti to heart overload. Personally, I think . . .
Like many of you, I have a word for 2019. I personally prefer this to the never-ending lists of resolutions, but it can be hard to keep a . . .
My husband is gone for work this week and Henry is missing him like crazy. This is the kid who counts down the minutes until Graham gets home on the . . .