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Today & throughout the week we are gathering — on blogs, Facebook, & paper — to write letters to Pearl Joy Brown.  Whether you’ve been following Pearl’s story for months or you are meeting her for the first time today, we invite you to join us.  Dear Pearl, For a long time, our family has […]

I hate feelings. I was a good emotion-bottler for years. But once that stopped working (resulting in, you know, depression and anxiety), I actually had to DEAL with the things. So for the past few years, I’ve been really good at analyzing my feelings. “Let’s label this one fear, and put it in that box

I tend to get a little obsessed with making good decisions. When I need to buy something, I research. I look for coupons. I try to find the perfect combination of best product, lowest price, and fastest shipping. I might spend hours trying to figure out which sunscreen to order from which site. And heavens….if

This year’s garden is not producing the results I had hoped it would. The other year we had a garden, 2010, our veg project required very little upkeep. In return for a small bit of watering and weeding, we had a lovely supply of tomatoes, peppers, zucchini, and squash for the summer. Perhaps it was

My friends, it seems I am raising a small extrovert. I often wondered why on earth David would say hi to cars and people as we drove by them. I figured it was a quirky toddler thing. Yesterday, however, presented a new possibility. We hosted several moms and kiddos for a brunch yesterday morning. After

I’m dedicating this post to my writer friends Kat and Nicole. Whenever I think longingly, “Gee, I wish I could be a writer,” I remind myself of lessons that I have learned from them. The most important lesson, perhaps, is that if I want to be a writer, I need to — um — write.

When the Nashville Predators first unveiled this season’s slogan, I wrinkled my nose. “Heroes play here.” Firemen are heroes. Soldiers are heroes. To me, hockey players generally do not fit the definition of hero. Sure, there are some players whose obstacle-strewn paths to the NHL might qualify them as heroes. Joel Ward, perhaps. I think

“Hug and kiss!” Ian demanded as I tucked him into bed. No “please,” not even a full sentence. Just a demand. I mentally rolled my eyes as I leaned over and performed what he commanded. The kid sure does take me for granted, I thought. And then I realized the beauty of that statement. Maybe

Maybe I’ll turn this into a fashion blog where I post my outfits each day. Here’s me in a t-shirt and yoga pants. Here’s me in a t-shirt and jeans. Here’s me in a t-shirts and yoga pants. Here’s me in a cute skirt and top with bright red lipstick! Oh, please ignore the food

The other day I painted my toenails for the first time in, oh, perhaps a year and a half. As we were playing, Ian pointed to my toes and asked, “What’s that?” “The sparkly stuff?” “Yeah,” he said. “It’s nail polish,” I explained. “Sometimes I wear that just for fun, to make my toes look