It doesn’t always have to be you

By Brett Baker, Core Writer My husband travels a lot. Not so much that I could even come close to being compared to a military wife but he definitely travels more than your average hubby. Often, when I take out the trash, and a neighbor or two will pop their heads out to ask, “Where’s Nathaniel … [Read more…]

The unique worry of a special-needs mom

By Brett Baker, Core Writer If you’ve ever seen the show, Parenthood, then you’ll probably remember this scene: Kristina and Adam Braverman are pregnant with their third, unexpected, child—a child who already has a sibling with Asperger’s, making the new baby more likely to be on the Autism Spectrum as well. Kristina and Adam are … [Read more…]

The chance to show up

By Brett Baker, Core Writer I don’t have a lot of personal experience with tragedy. I was fortunate to grow up in a healthy home, and I’ve gotten through most of my adult life without a tremendous amount of grief. I’m thankful for this–very thankful. I’ve dealt with dysfunction, trauma, depression and other heavy issues, … [Read more…]

Confession: I can’t stand breastfeeding

By Brett Baker, Core Writer If I got paid for each minute I spend breastfeeding, I’d be able to buy, like, three Anthropologie stores. I could hire a personal chef. I could definitely hire a full-time maid. I thought this each and every time I sit down to nurse my babies. I daydream about all … [Read more…]

Defeating “Zombie-Mom”

By Brett Baker, Core Writer It’s 3:45pm and the day has completely gotten on top of me. The laundry I’ve been swearing I’d put away since last week still sits half-folded in the laundry room, and I’m standing in the kitchen, so tired that my eyes are watering. My daughter is crying about her Bandaid … [Read more…]

When Google was my Only Ally

By Brett Baker, Core Writer Many mothers recall those first few months of motherhood by the sleepless nights, untimely milk letdowns, diaper blowouts, or the endless swaddling. What I remember is the bouncing. Bouncing, bouncing and more bouncing. If I wasn’t bouncing, he was crying. Screaming, really. And I don’t mean a sweet, gentle jiggle. … [Read more…]