Eight is Great
The very first time I went home with Lee Stuart, I heard all the stories about him. I heard about how he didn't go anywhere without a basketball in his hand; how he could be found asleep at night, his arm slung over his dirty ball; how he had to be reminded to set the basketball down at the...
Raising World Changers
I was twenty-five years old, a brand new mom, and I rolled slowly to a stop in front of her house. I picked up my weeks old baby boy and walked to the front door, loaded down with an overstuffed diaper bag, several blankets, and a deep need for someone to tell me I would survive. When Laura...
Killing Santa: A Repost
I am desperately behind in life. I've barely kept my head above water this week (and I can't even blame it on pregnancy this time), and it doesn't appear I will catch up anytime soon. So, in lieu of writing any actual new words, I'll go ahead and repost this blog from April, 2014: Also known as...
Writing Under Pressure
I'm currently sitting in a coffee shop, Christmas carols warbling through the speaker behind my head, and my chai tea offering a relaxing scent to what feels like a very holiday heavy morning. The Florida sky is grey today, the temperature a brisk 60 degrees. It's about as Christmasy as our...
