Mama tried to tell me it was going to be like this. And like most know-it-all non-parents, I didn’t believe her.

Who wants to join the picket line? Several of my mom friends are currently on strike. I haven’t decided to yet, but I might. They’re weary of doing all of the cooking, cleaning, and childcare with little to nothing in return. It’s hard to say whether they’re more frustrated with their husbands or their children [...]

Last week, I discussed our recent lightning strike and subsequent house fire. I apologize if it was a somewhat choppy read. My original narrative was over 3,000 words-enough to fill the entire page you’re holding now. That’s quadruple my usual word count.

I wish the scent of burning wood still reminded me of cozy winter fires. But after inhaling that acrid odor for days, I’ll never think of smoke-or thunderstorms-the same way again.

“We hate girl stuff, don’t we, Zach?” Eli asked his brother while dashing through Target the other day. I’d accidentally entered the toy department via the Barbie aisle, and my boys quickly fled that vast sea of pink.