Haley I
A Season of Great Joy
Our house is rarely quiet, if ever, but here I sit in silence. The tiny, white lights from the Christmas tree making me almost drunk with their simplicity and the hazy halo they cast...
Mastectomy Must-Haves
Judas Boob Bash
That’s what the invitations I sent to people read as I prepared for the goodbye party for my breasts. Boobs are an inevitable consequence of womanhood. The love/hate relationship we all have...
From a Mom Who “Used to be Hot”
We owned this summer. I mean, we totally killed it. From spending countless hours at the pool to building the mother of all playhouses in our backyard, I can look back and say we...
The False Bravado of a Mom with No Hair
I just want to start by saying I would never physically fight a second-grader. I know that it would be wrong on many, many levels and I’m a civilized, mature adult. A southern lady,...
10 Things Your Friend With Cancer Really Wants
No offense, but having cancer is bad enough. Having to eat an endless parade of frozen casseroles while you navigate your newly diagnosed life is even worse. Sure, it's the thought that counts and...
The Added Shame of Depression in Motherhood
“What don’t you have?” my husband asked me out of sheer bewilderment. He stared at me from the other side of the couch as I fumbled for an answer that had eluded me for...
Birmingham Mom Collective :: Introducing Haley I
Birmingham
To be honest, all I've ever known is the big, little city of Birmingham. As a child, I understood it wasn't the most exciting place to grow up, but the comfortability and predictability of...
Making Family Memories :: Why You Need a Pie Day
Let me start off with the honest bit: I don't like pie. I know. I know. Keep your Southern lady gasps to yourself, but I've just never been a fan. Maybe I had a...
I Don’t Want to Leave You
“We’re going to change your treatment.”
Stunned silence. Mouth open. Questions flooded my brain and fought to be the first out of my mouth. “Why?” Was all I could manage.
“There’s a small spot on your...
The Very Last Paci
“It’s the last one,” I try to explain to my almost three-year-old son.
"The last one?” I can hear in his inflection that his little brain is trying to stretch to understand.
“Yes, Bunny. It’s...