Haley I
A Different Kind of Tired
This is going to sound whiny to some people out there. It may even be a bit self-indulgent but so are Lululemon leggings and I know a whole lot of y’all rocking those out...
Thriving, Not Just Surviving :: A Race Day Change in Perspective
I’m about to be painfully honest. When the executive director of the North Central Alabama Susan G. Komen North chapter, Veronica, asked me if I wanted to lead the Parade of Hope at this...
Who Is That Woman With Your Husband?
I remember the night that I met my husband face-to-face for the first time. Well, that's probably something that goes without saying, but I like replaying the moment because I will never forget how...
Permission to Dream Again
I am very soon to leave on an adventure. At 33 years of age, I will pack my bags and board a plane towards Concord, North Carolina to attend the Proverbs 31 She Speaks...
The Seven Year Itch
I know my anniversary is next Monday kind of like you know you have a dentist appointment coming up soon. The date sounds vaguely familiar and I know I'm supposed to be doing something...
McDonald’s Moms :: Appreciating My Work BFF and My Spectacular Life as a Working...
Everybody should have a Sarah in their life. My Sarah came into my life two years ago when I started a new job eight months pregnant and fresh off a year working from home...
I Wasted A Day
Two weeks ago, I went for my twenty-second chemotherapy treatment. It has become old hat to show up, be told my bloodwork was great, get hooked up, and sit for four-ish hours while drugs...
Mourning the Loss of My Never Babies
I had never cried myself to sleep until the night we came home from Bobby’s vasectomy consultation. Let me remind you, I was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer not too terribly long ago...
When Love Isn’t Romantic
So, a marketing director marries a chicken farmer . . .
It's not the start to some off-color joke. (Or is it?) It's not the script for the Green Acres reboot. It's my life. Our life....
Strangers Fed My Son for a Year
It is super fitting and kind of ironic (don'tcha think?) that I am pouring the last bag of breast milk into a bottle for my sixteen-month-old son today. You see, a year ago yesterday,...