You’re busy. I’m busy. It’s hard to make time for chats with friends. But wouldn’t it be nice if we could share a cup of tea, just you and me, to talk about how mama life is going these days? So…why not right here, right now? Okay, we’ll have to each pop our own kettles on in our own kitchens.

Since I’m new here at Latched Mama, I thought maybe it would be fun to go back and relive my labor and delivery posts with all four of my kids.  You know, as a kind of “getting to know me better” type of exercise.  So, without further ado, I give you my first-born’s story dating all the way back to

Germs.  They’re everywhere.  And I think they’re most attracted to kids.  And while kids don’t like to share most things, they seem to love to share germs.  There’s really no way around it.  Which is how we found ourselves as victims to a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad stomach bug which made its way through all four of our

Dear Pre-Baby Self, Let’s chat! A little bird told me you’re about to have a baby! If I remember correctly, everything has been working out perfectly according to your plans. With over a month left until your due date, there’s just the baby’s room left to finish up, the freezer to stock, and birth music to be carefully selected. You

Most days I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water.  The time between when we all get home in the evenings and is only a few hours (at most) but it sometimes feels like an eternity.  Our evening routine is a blur of dinner, baths, stories and bedtime mixed in with fighting, yelling and crying (it’s equal chances whether it’s a

  I have not been myself lately. By lately, I mean the last two years since my daughter was born. When I sat down with my journal a few months back, I didn’t even know what to write. I used to fill pages with opinions, thoughts, dreams, aspirations! But as I sat in bed with the Moleskine, I barely had anything

I have been breast-conscious my entire life. Puberty came to me around age 12 when I started menstruating, my breasts started to develop, and my body was morphing into something unrecognizable to me, I was not prepared for the changes that were happening. My mother, who was kind and loving, parented with what I call benign neglect. I knew she