Musing Mama K

Three women--Kathy Clayton, Lynn Tester, and Cindy Holt--just drove to my house from Greensboro, cleaned said house, and filled its fridge w...

Cancer is officially hijacking my blog, so check here for updates from now on. On Thursday morning, I went to The Breast Center (what my h...

The kind of emotional fatigue I'm experiencing today is almost debilitating. I released some anger this morning in the form of hurling o...

Stage. Grade. Markers. Genes. Generous. Ample. Fatty. Aggressive. Angry. Options. Chemo. Radiation. Support. Drains. Sentinel. Walk. Risks. ...

My best, most cogent ideas come to me in the shower. This morning, between my husband asking me if I had seen his toothbrush and my toddler ...

I once took a Saturday freelance editing class at Duke University, and the instructor began with the line, "If you're in this for t...

The unfamiliar, gutteral screams coming from my son when I took him to his first "Play Pals" group yesterday could not have been m...

I've been mulling. To mull is to consider, ponder . . . or mess up. What does it mean to be a blogger when I'm not sure who I am ou...

An idea "flew into my funnel" today. (I can only use toddler references these days as my brain is turning to mush.) For the past t...

I woke up angry this morning---a common occurrence because I dream like crazy---angry on behalf of my friends in the classroom. A revelation...