Birthdays are a big deal for me. They mark the very most important dates in my life, they are the days my children and husband were born. The Hubs never wants a fuss, but I always ignore that. His birth is miraculous. Because of it, I got to become a wife and a mother. My little son is a lot like his dad. He enjoys his birthday, but mostly because he gets to pick the restaurant and his family comes to celebrate with him. But Bodacious, oh, she is just like her momma! We love

The Hubs and I also have a nice little division of labor going on when it comes to luggage. He does all the labor.

Are the gifts from a child trash or are they treasure? Whether you see weeds -- or flowers -- is all in your perspective.

Little Son, Bodacious and I were barreling down the road last week, headed to one of our last soccer practices for the season. It had been an uneventful drive so far, and I was looking forward to a little siesta in the evening sun. “Mom,” Little Son said from the backseat. “Can I ask you a question?” “Sure!” I answered confidently. I could see our turn into the soccer fields rapidly approaching, and my little travel pillow was softly calling my name. I had already ruined the

Everything changes once you add a child to your life. Everyth by Rachel Biggerstaff Rachel Biggerstaff I am a big fan of cheese. Not just cheese in general, but good cheese. Stinky, crumbly, aged cheese from mammals of all kinds. I actually have a Pinterest board entitled, “Goat Cheese is My Love Language.” If I were on death row and had to choose my last meal, you can bet your big bippy that it would include some cheesy covered pasta and big ol’ ribeye just bathing in butter

‘I would do anything for you. Anything to keep you from harm. I would burn cities to the ground. You are all that matters.’ Cersei Lannister, Game of Thrones image from GameofThroneswikia.com. Once again, Little Son has attracted the attention of the class bully. All. Year. Long. And what started out as minor annoyances – poking, tripping, shoving – have now escalated into punches, kicks and a knock-down on the playground slide. And still. Little Son keeps trying to be this c

Springcreek on stage performing gospel and bluegrass. Bodacious and her rainbow trout. It was bigger than she was when she was born! Bodacious is ready to ride! The ceiling at Marvel Cave. Mel's Hard Luck Diner. The fountain in front of Keeter Center at College of the Ozarks. Little Son in his Silver Dollar City sweatshirt. The menu-napkin at Dixie Stampede. All aboard! Sure, he'll vacuum at the amusement park but not at home! She caught a fish this big ... . For spring break

RAINN is the nation’s largest anti-sexual assault organization. It has been been named one of America’s 100 Best Charities. RAINN has a 24-hour national hotline for victims of rape and sexual assault, (800) 656-HOPE. Learn more at www.RAINN.org. Each year, there are about 293,000 rapes reported. Almost half — HALF — of those victims are under the age of 18. As parents and caregivers, we are the first line of defense against child rape and sexual assault of children. R-a-p-e.

‘Ohhh. Who’s that pretty lady, Mommy?’ That, Bodacious, is my Mamo, your great-grandmother. And she would have adored you and made you hot cocoa whenever you asked for it. You can see more photos here. I have been thinking a lot about Mother’s Day. Right around the corner, it’s always a little bittersweet for me because it makes me think about my Mamo. Which I have been doing a lot lately. Does anyone else just misshurtache for another person so much that they can sometimes t

1) When a busy working parent like me actually makes it to the car pickup line with a few minutes to spare, this is not an invitation to get out of your car and come to talk to me. Even if I have the window rolled down. It’s not that I don’t like you. It’s just that this is precious alone time for me. It’s where I can either a) answer the text from my sister I’ve been ignoring all day because work is insane, b) listen to loud music that’s way too inappropriate for my kid’s ea

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LOOK at this face! My sweet friend SuSu did not care for the Easter Bunny. I think this picture captures the spirit of parenting perfectly, though. All dressed up with potential for perfection or perfect disaster. And we wouldn’t have it any other way. I am a shopper of least resistance. I will not clip coupons and go from store to store looking for good deals on meat and toilet paper. I need to get in and get out, and my child-free shopping time is way more valuable than the

Signed, The mom that had to apologize to one of her kids for being snappy this morning *Cuff bracelet by Lenny and Eva #LennyandEva Share this: Email Facebook Twitter Print Pinterest Google #LennyandEva #parenting

My focus this Lenten season has been to let go of my worries. Yep, I’m giving up the anxiety, saying adios to the plaguing doubt. And it is actually going pretty well. But the cold, hard truth of the matter is that sometimes, it is just really difficult to accept that you cannot change what is coming. When Little Son was about a year old, I started to notice that he was freakishly strong. Getting him into a car seat became a power play. If I hesitated for one instant, he woul

I totally stole this photo from an awesome tumblr site, Parents on Phones. Funny! Check it out here! Editor’s note: This post is part of our Pulling the Plug series! We monitor our son’s screen time carefully because my husband and I are big believers that too much time in front of a TV, or on the laptop or tablet, is like fast food for the brain. It dulls creativity. It promotes zombie-like inactivity. For him, at least. Me?  Ummmm. While I try to tune out on the weekends if

She is right. And while I am in favor of gun control laws, I don’t think this is the only answer. I believe parental control,  parental presence and parental access to mental health care are crucial components as well. I grew up with guns. I believe in the right to bear arms. I believe in the right to hunt for food. But I also believe in gun control. I believe in gun safety and gun safes and locked gun cabinets and gun training. I believe I have the right to know if there are

The kiddos emptied Baby Girl’s dresser into the floor, including about 600 rubber band pony tail holders. They also emptied two bottles of baby powder. Things were eerily quiet when we entered that dark hallway. We just knew something bad had happened here. You could feel it, like some senseless crime that should have been prevented but wasn’t stopped in time. Thanks to every episode of CSI or Law & Order I have ever seen, I immediately recognized the splatter pattern . A str

Image courtesy of www.MeanStinks.com. Check out the site for expert advice on how we can all work to stop bullying. My son is an only child. For better or worse, he is where my husband and I focus all of our love and attention. And like all parents, when that kiddo hurts emotionally or physically, I physically hurt, too. In fact, my need to protect this kid can only be described as a primordial, raw urge — unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. So when he came home from schoo

Austin holds his sons Tucker, left, and Greyson, right. Greyson, the little Lion Man, died when he was six months old. I can’t tell you his name. Jerry maybe. Or Jeff. Let’s just call him “J”. His wife was still wearing her name tag, so while I didn’t remember her name either, I could steal a glance and pretend that it mattered. Perfect strangers, and yet there we sat on a table at the park, watching our kids play at a 4-H picnic, trading vasectomy reversal stories. You know,