"I had managed to keep my composure in the grocery store, and even when I was putting away my cart back to get my quarter back. But as I drove home, the tears came. I began the ugly cry."
“This is the story of a little girl’s love of a green dress, a mother who tries to instill independence, and how those two things came together in the most epic and brilliant combination possible."
"Mama glanced over at her but never got off the phone. After 10 minutes Mama ended her call, collected the sunscreen that was never applied, the water toys that never touched the water, and then her daughter and left the pool."
Now your friends just know that you are human. You didn't stop being strong. You didn't stop being capable. You aren't going to be an outcast. You are going to open a dialogue that needs to exist between us as mothers.
“I’m just a Mom” a friend told me in passing, as we were chatting about life and catching up. JUST a Mom. Why do we attach that word “just?” Why do we feel the need to defend our role or note that our position is without pay or merit in the business world?
“Baby, I need you to stop crying about everything,” I say to my 4-year-old son, followed by a heavy sigh. Another day, another sob fest about something that broke his little heart. He is my sensitive soul, my middle child, my gentle spirit.
This week, the popular kids cartoon, My Little Pony, introduces its first lesbian couple in what critics are calling a “bandwagon” attempt to normalize a popular, secular belief.
