News & Current Events

We are the ones responsible for our children not showing respect for police or authority figures. I know it sounds harsh, but it's true. All of us have created this environment, where as a society, we don't respect the authority of the police. Here is how I believe we (quietly, unknowingly) got here ... We don't teach our children to respect authority.  When I was growing up, I was taught to respect the police, to comply with their requests, to shut my mouth, make slow moves, and find them when I need help or get into trouble. I don't know if we still expect the schools to teach our children these things, but WE have to take personal responsibility to teach them...

There are a lot of qualities that went into picking my life partner: his patience with others (and myself), his faith in God, his integrity, his love for his family and his sense of humor. Something that I never considered was the race of my partner. I am lucky that my parents raised me to appreciate differences, ask questions about cultures and get to know people for who they are. In high school, I fell head over heels for a handsome football player whom I now call my husband. My husband is all of those things above plus more. He is also African American, and I am white. Recently, the publicity surrounding the movie Loving has been making its way around...

I recently had a moment of parenting clarity that I am not sure any of us really ever “want," but now I am trying to be thankful for a new view on my parenting style. First, the back story. My husband, 11 year-old-son, and 5-year-old daughter recently took my mother-in-law out to eat dinner at a local restaurant for her 60th birthday. This was a Monday night after both parents have been at work all day and our kids were at school, you may ask what we were thinking. I am not sure…somewhere throughout the day we thought it would be a good idea. We had a relatively smooth dinner (or so I thought); my daughter and I worked on her letters...

I used to be a boy mom. My first two babies are sons who are, like all boys, dirty, messy, and loud. And while I can’t say I love all of the dirt and noise, I had come to a point where I embraced boy-momhood and all it had to offer. And then I got pregnant with my girl. Having my daughter brought out a side of me I didn’t know was still there. The need for fashion! For accessories! For hair bows and jewelry and shoes -- GOOD LORD the shoes!! I started when I was pregnant. Ralph Lauren, Gap, Gymboree. And then one day a friend invited me to a Matilda Jane Trunk show. It was then and there that...

I remember the six weeks before my daughter was born so clearly. I couldn’t breathe. I felt her little foot lodged on my lowest left rib. I was sleeping about 4 hours a night. I noshed on Tums as though they were the finest chocolates. All I wanted was a glass of wine. I was Ready To Be Done.   One of the strangest, strongest feelings I had during that time was the urge to nest. Sure, sure, all my mom friends had told me that I would be overcome with an intense and unending desire to make my home perfect for my little one. But, until those last six weeks, I didn’t understand. I poured every ounce of myself...