I struggle with the concept of rest. Not like I don’t believe in it. And I’m not one of those all-the-glory-is-found-in-the-hustle folks.. But I can’t get comfortable with the idea of just being. And it’s to my detriment. If I am not creating, thinking, planning, or actively doing something that qualifies as “productive,” I get... Continue Reading →
I remember the very early days of motherhood as endless and exhausting. I had this gorgeous baby that I’d worked so hard to bring Earthside. And she had so. many. needs. She was an easy baby, I suppose. As if that is even a thing. But it is humbling and terrifying to realize that much... Continue Reading →
No one talked periods in my house growing up. Here's what I remember: being about 8 years old and climbing around in the backseat while we were making the never-ending drive from South Florida to North Florida to visit my grandparents (y'all, Florida is an exceptionally l-o-n-g state. Those drives went on until the second... Continue Reading →
