May is Mental Health Awareness Month. In honor of that recognition, I came across the following graphic on one of my favorite Instagram pages (shout out to @schoolpsychlife). As soon as I saw it, I shrugged it off thinking, “not *my* people.” Of course, I surround myself with awesome, aware, non-judgmental people who would equally
Upstairs in my bedroom behind the always-open closet door sits one of my prized possessions. It is an art print on canvas of a mother nursing a baby. This thing has been through a lot – I would venture to call it “weathered.” Over-stretched, it looks like a pair of wrinkled khakis under the glass.
If the title of this post sounds familiar, it’s because two weeks ago, I posted about a related topic, in which I admitted to my younger sister that I had glossed over the pain of being a mom and wanted to make sure she understood how difficult it can be, if that level of
