And apparently, my subconscious thought I was the teenager. Because I dreamed I was back in high school, flirting with boys. I woke up with that same old swirl of feelings: nervousness, the rush of excitement, the cautiousness of “I like him but what if he doesn’t like me back?”, all of it. I could practically feel myself blushing in my sleep.

I set a timer, told everyone to grab whatever they saw out of place, and assigned one kid to dishes. And you know what? It worked. Fifteen minutes later, the house looked 100% better. It wasn’t overwhelming for the kids, the timer kept them focused, and while they grumbled a little (because, hello, weekend chores are not their favorite), they survived. And so did I.

We don’t tend to drink much coffee around here. My 14-year-old son does sometimes, so we have some coffee somewhere in the house, but me? I might have it once a month. When I do, it’s usually a frappe from McDonald’s, a large one, $4.19 for pickup. Well, today is fall break for my kids, and I’ve got six of them here four of mine and two extras (my two littles are still in daycare). I really didn’t want to load them all up in the car just to get a coffee, so I thought, let’

Seeing her standing there: backpack on, hair brushed, looking so grown-up and so ready, made me pause. She’s our middle schooler now. My 8th grade son also rides the bus, but his approach is a little… different....

Each school aged kid (we have four of these and two babies) has a daily 30-minute task, and on Fridays, we shake things up: instead of their regular chores, they do two smaller cleaning stints—15 minutes on Saturday and 15 on Sunday. That adds up to an two hours and thirty minutes of weekend cleaning spread over four kids and Mom.

“Henry! Do you have your balls?”…“Henry! Do you have your ball sack?” And then I realized what I was shouting. In public. Surrounded by middle schoolers (insert eyeroll here).

At yesterday’s game, Emily decided she might want to try out for cheer next year. She found some old pom-poms lying around the house and brought them along, cheering along with the squad and beaming with excitement. But then—like most things with an 11-year-old—the novelty wore off. She put the pom-poms down.

I just got rejected from a job interview, but honestly, it was one of the coolest rejections ever.

I try not to live in a totally tech-ruled world. One of the ways I keep some balance is by not reaching for my phone first thing in the morning.

Because do you know what I was doing at that exact moment? Sitting at my desk, staring at my blog. Telling myself I would take a “quick five-minute break” before getting back to my actual work. That quick break? It happened about fifteen minutes ago.

At my day job, I’m in a training series right now for career development. Today’s session was all about personal brand  and networking....

I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve walked in, ready to collapse into bed, only to find my so-called sanctuary buried under things that don’t even belong to me.

because the gaming place we were heading to has $15 flatbread pizzas that feed maybe half a person. And I was not about to mortgage the house to feed 10 teenage boys. CiCi’s “all you can eat” was the only logical answer

Getting away from the kids is important, but doing something I’m genuinely passionate about is just as crucial. Photography isn’t just my career—it’s my escape.

he role was challenging to get internally, but I thought, what the heck? I tried. Almost instantly, I was rejected. No interview, no chance to talk to the hiring manager—just a quick decline. I was fine with it. It happens....

Life and the economy have caught up with us. Over the past two months we've had to replace brakes, align and repair tires, fix a cat's broken leg, put 8 stitches into my son's face, our washing machine is broken, and the rear a/c just went out on our van.

I scrolled past posts like: “I’m glad this person died,” “This person was inherently evil, and now they're dead - oh well,” or “This person was the best, I can’t believe they’re gone.” And then one voice of reason: someone I know was from the other political side from the person who died wrote, “Nobody should have to die for the right to free speech.” That was it. One clear, level-headed post in a sea of nonsense.

Even now, two months later, when we drop Danielle off first, William insists I lift him to look through the window before he’s willing to walk to his classroom.

...And let’s be honest, I’m not entirely innocent here either. When company’s coming in 15 minutes and I don’t know where to shove the Amazon boxes, guess where they go? Yep. My space. Apparently, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Being a nursing mom comes with a lot of changes… and one huge downside: thirst . I get these episodes where I’m suddenly so thirsty...