Letting it go, to hold on forever
Let go of the perfection to hold onto the memory forever.
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Family
So do washing machines…
Thanksgiving was lovely. As a mom to a child who has been at college their first semester, it was the longest I have had my oldest home since August. The peace in my heart when all three of my kids are safe at home in their beds is unmatched, and I know that these days
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Autism and the Garden
I was once very deeply in denial about my son’s diagnosis. Something past, and future me would find hard to believe, but I in that moment, was firmly planted in a place that didn’t allow my children to deviate from my plan. The amusing part is that the plan was vague, a mere suggestion of
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Young Mom/Old Mom
She will be a woman, my friend, at long last after the years of me telling her I was not. My role as a young mother will change, as her brothers, thirteen years younger, have a mother who has been around this block before. Only she knew me as this mama.
I want a house with a crowded table. -The Highwomen
When I close my eyes and think of my happy place I’m small again, barefoot and looking down at my bruised legs. It’s a warm day and there is a soft breeze. I am under a climbing tree next to a rock affectionately named Fred Flintstone. I can smell muscadines and their leaves with the
I want a house with a crowded table. -The Highwomen Read More »