For when you martyr yourself to Motherhood, Motherhood joyously accepts your offer. The price you pay to appease her greed is the totality of yourself.

Although I LOVE my babies and husband and genuinely enjoy their company, I also LOVE having time to myself.

Maybe I need a time out! I tuck myself into my pantry and sit down. The kids think it’s funny. I think it’s Heaven.

With a prayer of gratitude I penned this letter into my daughters' journal knowing I was given a great gift this year: the age of amnesia.

We walked into the modern offices and I felt a little weird again. In my head, I stuck out like a sore thumb.

If my kids had their way, they would hand me a rider that would rival Van Halen’s.

We do it all. And sure, it makes them feel loved, but not because we’re checking all the little boxes of what a “good mom” should do.

I want you to know that you matter. You, and all you are doing, are enough. You are beautiful, and you are a success.

Give me the strength to drive to work, knowing my heart is at daycare and school.

Sometimes I want to run away, hide in a corner of the house where no one can reach me until I find the strength to break free from the stress that winds itself through my nerves.