I'm an introverted mom, so sometimes I have to say no. So, I miss out.

Mommy needs 15 minutes to herself and starts to get herself ready for the day. Then you hear the pattering of little feet and a door creaking open…

I'm a mom, and every day I choose motherhood. And it won’t be perfect, but I’ll always try by choosing motherhood, again and again.

When a mom helps another mom, she pays it forward. Because she knows what it's like to have a toddler in a tantrum on a hot summer day.

A mother's love shows her children the way. It holds influence. It shapes cultures and people. It’s powerful.

When I'm too busy to lay with you at night, I hope one day you'll understand. Because I know right now your little heart is disappointed.

The other day we had a little get-together for some girls in my oldest daughter's camp group. There was one girl who was a cautious spirit who stayed quiet.

“Your mommy, she’s a superhero,” a stranger said, smiling at my kids on our walk, his intent being a compliment. “No, I’m so not!”

I was talking to my husband, and he started laughing, “Dani, open the fridge!” I slowly opened it to a bin of pretzel rods sitting next to the cartons of milk.

The worriers in the family all look similar. We are the ones huddled together at get-togethers with furrowed brows.

I looked down at my sweet smiling two-year-old, eyes following a bird in flight above. “But I’m going to miss this,” I answered in a soft quiet voice.

I will love you through the mad. I will love you through mental illness. I will love you through the sad.

To the mom who can’t today. You are not alone. There’s a mom out there who's exhausted from a night plagued with worry.

I decided to call my mom, who was coming over to see if she had eggs instead of dragging everyone out in the rain. “Of course, I’ll check,” she said. And that was that.

Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in a pool of worries. The anxiety of so much to do all the time. The mental load of motherhood looming over my shoulders at every turn.

You don't love swimsuit season, never have, most likely never will. The problem is your world has grown smaller as your fear of showing off your body has grown larger.

“How could she let herself go like that?” “Wow, she really let herself go.” I’ve heard people say these words with a slow shake of their heads.⁣

There are so many reasons why you should be allowed to cry. Maybe your kids won’t stop arguing and hitting, and gosh, are you raising brats?

I have so many days where I look at my children acting wild and tell them in a breathy whisper of defeat, "you guys need to really behave, or I can't do this anymore." As in, I can't mom anymore.

Depression and anxiety are real. They aren't physical, but you can see them if you look close enough.