Start Here, Before the Kids Need You Again

For the last little while, I’ve felt stuck between two impossible summer goals: I wanted my kids to have a magical, curiosity-filled childhood summer full of creativity, exploration, building, movement, books, projects, and imagination… …but I also wanted my house to survive. Because if you have energetic, novelty-seeking kids, you know what happens when they’re under-stimulated but highly motivated: They create “projects.” Usually with rice. Or water. Or tape. Or every blank

Some links below are affiliate links. That means if you click and buy, I may earn a tiny commission — which helps fund my Reese’s habit and keeps this blog running. I only share things I truly love or find genuinely helpful in the trenches of motherhood. Am I the only one who feels a tiny bit of dread for Mother’s Day? Don’t get me wrong—I love the extra snuggles, the handmade cards, and the temporary elevation to “queen of the household.” But sometimes I feel so pressured to

It often feels like the way to be a good mother is to be perfect, meet your kids needs, help them be perfectly happy all the time. But Donald Winnicott, a pediatrician who studies children and their mothers in the 1950s says the opposite: Your imperfections as a mother are exactly what allow your kids to learn resilience and be prepared for the real world.

It’s 5:15. That kind of day. The baby is crying. The kitchen is already messy. You forgot to thaw the meat.Leftovers? Gone. And someone just asked, “Mom, what’s for dinner?” Oh no. Your budget cannot afford drive-thru again. And honestly? It’s almost more work to leave the house at this point. Let me say this clearly: This is not a moral failure. It’s a systems failure. We are not earning gold stars for culinary excellence here.We are building a backup plan. Enter: the emerg

I used to think that one day, I would finally be… caught up. The laundry would be done.The dishes would be clean.The house would stay that way for more than five minutes. I genuinely believed there would come a day where I could look around and think: “Yes. I did it. I am finished.” … That day has not come. And I’m starting to suspect it never will. Because here’s the truth no one tells overwhelmed moms: Housework is never done. The Problem With “Trying to Be Done” In motherh

Lessons from a 3-Year-Old Tunnel Builder I used to think being a mom meant I would suddenly be full of wisdom and confidence. Like I’d gently pass down life lessons until my kids surpassed me and I could say, “Yes. I did it.” Instead? Being a mom mostly means realizing I know absolutely nothing and learning as I go. But today isn’t about that existential spiral. Today is about something my three-year-old taught me about why moms need breaks — even, and ESPECIALLY from the nev

My dad is a smart man. Yes, I realize I’m opening a blog about motherhood with a story about my father. Trust the process. He knows that when women complain, we may or may definitely not want someone to solve our problems. So when he notices a rant coming on, he asks: “Do you want me to fix it?” Most of the time the answer is no. But I distinctly remember one of my yeses. I was fed up with motherhood. I had been a straight-A student. Overachieving. Latin as an elective. Jac