By: LK Whitney Jingle, jingle. Ho. Ho. Ho. Merry Christmas, y’all. I don’t know about you, but our household is six-feet-deep in a tinsel-tinged, yuletide coma: the tree glimmers and glows; the gifts, they keep piling up under the tree; our cheerful little children are giddy and bright with visions...

By LK Whitney: What I’m about to say might grossly offend you. It’s Tuesday morning.  The sun is shining through a fluffy herd of big white clouds.  There are waves crashing just about fifty feet from where I sit now.  It’s the Atlantic Ocean.  I’ve found a moment alone during a two-week...

By Laura Kate Whitney: Recently I stopped wearing diapers.  And by diapers I mean the post-maternity padding that serves as a constant reminder that you just accomplished the seemingly impossible feat of giving birth.  I still have a few left, actually, which I’m sure I’ll keep for a while to continue...

by L.K. Whitney “Part One” of a lifelong story because, as you well know, motherhood is not something that you can put in a well-marked, masterfully-wrapped box. So you just peed on the stick and all signs point to “plus” (one).  Congratulations.  You’re pregnant. Say goodbye, honey. ...

by L.K. Whitney I’m exhausted, girls.    Really, I think I’ve passed the brink.  Here I find myself zooming full speed ahead, well beyond my comfort zone.  This new life, this concept of “motherhood” and “the matriarch” and “the wife” –oh, it’s all so… overwhelming.  All that...

by L.K. Whitney It was still a little warm outside when we packed the moving truck and drove to Birmingham late last November.  One fate-filled conversation about free babysitting had somehow snowballed into a job transfer and pair of tenants in our cozy Charleston cottage.   It’s been roughly...