Encouragement

Sometimes I think dads get a bad rap. After all, they are just a bunch of couch-loving, tech-crazed, incompetent, glorified babysitters that we put up with on a day-to-day basis, right? Thankfully, most dads I know don't fall into a single one of those categories. But when moms gather and talk, we do tend to get a little crazy with "dad bashing" because usually it gets a laugh and a sympathetic nod of how hard we all have it as moms. "Can you believe what he sent my poor child to daycare dressed in??" My husband and I just came back from a great vacation at the beach and on the way home, I thanked him for being so willing...

  I'm up late and writing. I've been thinking about contentment quite a bit recently. Is this something I'm supposed to have? Ever? Or is it something I'm supposed to strive for? By the mere definition, can you strive for it? I mean, it sounds so nice - "Peaceful Happiness." "Satisfaction." Bliss. I feel pretty guilty that for the most part, I've been no good at this. My husband brought the word to my attention many years ago. We were discussing what it meant to be happy. We each had our own definitions, and I was a little shocked that ours were so different. What it boiled down to is that I really didn't know. By that, I mean that I...

Before I was a mother, I envisioned my family's meal times, especially dinner, as nothing short of perfection. I'd serve up deliciously prepared meals a' la June Cleaver, and my family would eagerly gobble them up while praising my culinary efforts. Boy was I WRONG!!! Despite the fact that both of my children eat a pretty wide variety of foods, my 4-year-old daughter enjoys dragging meals out for what sometimes feels like an eternity. Her reason behind the desire to make dinner time about as long as a professional sporting event remains a mystery. The agony of getting her to eat a decent amount of food within a reasonable amount of time has become one of the most dreaded...

Fearless parenting. I know it isn't really a thing. When I'm panicking on the inside every time my daughter climbs on the back of the couch that sits on very hard concrete floors, I'm anything but fearless. Fearing for the health and welfare of our children is just biology. But at some point, that fear is no longer productive. We are forced to decide, consciously or otherwise, exactly where that point is. We are constantly bombarded by reasons to be afraid. From the news, from social media, from politicians. Some days, when we hear about another tragedy or a freak accident, it takes all we have to keep from holding our babies tightly and never letting go. I've spent too...

Recently after leaving a gathering of friends and family, the following conversation took place with my five-year-old: Keilyn: "Mommy, why do all these people in this entire city call you Tiffany?" Me & Micah:  "Because that is my/her name." Keilyn: "No! Your name is Mommy!! Mommy, it starts with a M like Micah! You’re not Tiffany." Micah: "Yes, Tiffany is her name." Keilyn: "Fine! Tiffany is her second nam, but Mommy is her first important name." After this exchange, I began thinking. What a simple statement from a very independent five-year-old. In her world, I am Mommy. I am the one who provides for her and her brother, the one who loves her daddy and who corrects her when she is wrong. To all of these...