Sweet Simplicity

Stacey Conner essays

Nothing worked and I am strict. I don’t bend to whining. Their stalling stretched longer and longer while my frustration reached chart-topping levels. I yelled.  I ignored them except to say “clean up and we’ll talk.” I threatened. I set timers. I set specific tasks. I rewarded quick clean up with TV (that worked for two days).  I suggested before each quiet time that they not dump out every single blessed toy in the basement.  Nothing worked.

Pick the Day

Annie Tegen essays

I wasn’t drafted into motherhood. I enlisted. Eagerly. And I love being a mom. I love it when the kids sneak into bed with us in the middle of the night. I love that my son and I made it through colic to the other side. I love that he scares me to death jumping off the highest objects he can find. I love that I walk through the dining room tripping over toys I swore would never be allowed in my dining room. I love it. I just didn’t expect the bitter aftertaste that comes with it.

Bestie

Jennifer Savage essays

He’s my office mate and I’m sure he had no idea what was about to befall him when my boss walked me into our shared office last June. And share I have. Over shared, in fact, most days. Everything that goes through my head comes out of my mouth and there is only one thin cubicle wall between me and him. He hears it all.

These Small Moments

Stacey Conner essays

I love bed time for all the wrong reasons. Actually, one specific wrong reason: because it means in 45 minutes I will have three hours all to myself. A crackling fire, a glass of wine and the fourth book in the Game of Thrones series call my name plaintively from downstairs, forcing me to dig deep and breathe slowly through the last push.

When Kids Attack

Kim Bongiorno essays

I’ve been knocked down, almost knocked out, had my feet stomped on countless times, and even had a piggy-back ride choke me to the point of seeing stars. All of this from two little people who love me so much they simply can’t stay off me. Their hearts would break if they realized how many injuries I have sustained in this job of raising them. Despite all these bumps, bruises, cuts, and scrapes, I can say with my whole heart that my kids have healed me much more than they’ve hurt me.

Sea Glass

Nichole Beaudry essays

In the soft morning light, as he melted into me, my heart expanded. With each smile, each hug, each mischievous giggle, my heart has stretched further than I ever dreamed it would. Like sharp, broken glass, tumbled by the ocean current, my love for him smoothed and softened. Sea glass. I cannot imagine another day of my life without him in it.My love for him is like sea glass. My treasured boy has taught me that sometimes, out of disappointment, we find immeasurable joy. Unexpected, endless joy.

When She’s Mean

Dori Gilels essays

Now that I am a parent of two independent, able-bodied youth, my mother derives great pleasure from pointing out the ways in which my daughter is just like I was …

free & unstructured

Dori Gilels essays

Today was the first nice day since my kids got out of school for the summer. I had a plan: A hike to the top of Mount Sentinel, the University …

Ready

Alyssa Harrington essays

Alyssa did her senior project with Mamalode. This is a great “see through their eyes” piece… I remember saying goodbye to my mother when I went to college. And it …

Little Guy

Dori Gilels Boys, essays

My little guy is just like his dad. In every way. They love to do the same things—ride bikes, fish, play lacrosse, hockey, fiddle with as many Apple products as …