Mary Coleman has been a beautiful voice in the lives of women for decades, her daughters being the first recipients of her wisdom. I met Mary seven years ago when she led a Bible study on foundations of faith. I learned so much that summer that I kept coming back for more—studies on self-care and motherhood, guilt and perfectionism. She has become a mentor over the years, a true Titus 2 woman teaching the younger generations what is good. Mary has encouraged me and believed in me, wrestled . . .
I am over the moon excited to be meeting my college roommate this Friday for a girlfriends' weekend. We have a tradition of taking an annual "roomie" trip, but I bailed last year because I was pregnant and uncomfortable and, let's face it, I couldn't drink wine. So to make up for lost time, we are going all out at the Camelback Inn Resort and Spa in Scottsdale, Arizona. But first, I've got to get there. This entails waking up at an ungodly hour on Friday morning to catch a flight in Richmond, . . .
After 40 weeks of pregnancy followed by 40 weeks of work and effort, I finally met my goal and attained my pre-baby bod. I've often heard that weight is more difficult to shed the older you get, and that's the truth, girlfriend. So many times in this nine month process, I had to jump start my weight loss to keep my body from plateauing: I began running again, I completed two 30-day cleanses, I started attending a strength training class a couple days a week, and I eliminated the majority of . . .
One of my favorite childhood memories was organizing a fashion show with my friends, charging guests—parents and good-natured neighbors—a $5 cover, and then sending the proceeds to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. If anyone is wondering why CF, I had watched the made-for-tv movie, Alex: The Life of a Child that year (anybody?) and it apparently moved my 8-year-old heart. My kids watched the tape of my runway show recently and laughed their heads off! Think big bangs, loud 80's clothes, and Debbie . . .
The first place my husband and I ever called "home" in our marriage was a little town outside of Tacoma, Washington. Graham received his PCS (Permanent Change of Station) orders to Ft. Lewis and we moved to the Pacific Northwest not knowing a single soul. Boy, were we in for a treat. Western Washington is as charming as it is eclectic, as breathtakingly gorgeous as it is topographically complex. And it doesn't rain nearly as much as people "back east" assume, but Washingtonians like to keep that . . .