Tag: Just for Fun
My First (and Last) Air Force Ball
For years I've watched as my friends get all dolled up each year and go to their respective military balls. I stare at their...
Lessons Learned from Chip and Joanna Gaines
I recently read Chip and Joanna Gaines' The Magnolia Story. I loved the book. I love every story that births something from the bare...
The Halloween After-Party: An Easy Guide To Pairing Your Candy With...
We all know Halloween is a big deal, especially for those with small children. However, parents face the same conundrum every year: what to...
Unruffled: A Simple Girl Living In A Ruffled World
In college, if you had asked me where I thought I would want to live, I can guarantee the South wouldn’t have been one...
The Problem with Resting Pleasant Face
This article is a public service announcement. I have to get the word out to see if there are others like me, in hopes...
My Unapologetic Obsession with British Television
I'm a patriotic American who flies the flag of our great nation, pledges my allegiance proudly, and belts out the national anthem with a...
I Was a #Boymom … Until I Had a Girl.
Long before we got pregnant, I knew I’d be a boy mom. Not just any boy mom, a #boymom. You know what I’m talking...
A Poem for Postpartum Moms
So you just had a baby…
I think it counts within a year!
Our lives are probably similar
I am here to say, “Have no fear!”
You’re not...
I’m Too Tired To Be Woke: My Rant Against Obnoxious Slang
Slang has always been a part of language and culture. Most of us use slang on a daily basis without giving it a second...
August Book Club: Little Fires Everywhere
Parents know that rules are necessary. Rules keep order in the chaos of raising children; they provide structure and expectations; they are the yardstick...
How to Help Those New Year Jitters with Back-to-School Traditions
This past June we finished PreK through a local elementary. Though it was my daughter who got the certificate, I say “we,” because y’all...
Beauty Hacks for Hippies: Postpartum Hair Loss
My husband occasionally (often) and affectionately (mostly) refers to me as a hippy.
What he means, really, is crunchy. You know, clean eating, cloth diapers,...