Apparently I missed National Sons Day. Which, honestly, feels pretty fitting considering half the time I don't know what day it is anyway. But I couldn't let it completely pass without talking about my boys. Boys and their mama are just something special. I can't put it into words but its a rear gift. My two sons are 16 years apart. Yes. Sixteen. And if you want to know whether raising your second son 16 years after your first feels like starting over, the answer is yes. Comp

In September 2010, we found out we were having a girl. That year had already been hard. On April 23, Mama found out she had breast cancer, and our family began the journey of helping her heal. Then, on June 1, we discovered we were expecting our second child. Conner was three years old, and this baby gave our family something joyful to look forward to. Mama had retired from the school about a year and a half before her diagnosis. She was ready to be a full-time grannysitter.

When Joe and I were dating, I used to wonder what in the world he did all day on Saturdays. Most young couples spent Saturdays going somewhere or doing something together. Joe, however, would tell me he was burning and digging up stumps from the pine trees that had been cut across from his parents’ house. I honestly thought he was kidding. Turns out, clearing around 40 acres takes a little while, especially when you are a young man doing much of the work yourself. There would

This post is dedicated to my dear friend and agriculture sister, Margie Raimondo. I met Margie this past April at the American Farm Bureau Women’s Communications Boot Camp in Washington, D.C. The four-day program brought together 12 women from across the country for hands-on training in public speaking, working with the media, developing messages and becoming stronger advocates for agriculture. Margie was one of two women representing Arkansas, and I was honored to represent

Joe and I grew up in the same hometown, but we did not start dating until after high school. Summer love happened, and a year and some change later, I found out I was expecting a baby. Now, you will learn this about me as we travel through these stories together. I put a lot of pressure on myself. I had a plan. I would graduate, get married at 23, and have my first child by 25. Not 20. But life has never shown much respect for my carefully constructed timelines. On August 22,

I Have Always Been a Storyteller I have wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I have always been a storyteller. Like most children, I thought my childhood was completely normal until I started spending time with friends and realized that maybe it wasn’t quite as normal as I had believed. For years, I thought surely no one else could relate to the stories I had to tell. Then came the World Wide Web, followed many years later by TikTok, and suddenly I realized I

Who doesn’t love Dolly Parton? Her joy was infectious. Her hair was big, her costumes sparkled, and she always had a way of making people feel like they could dream a little bigger. My love for Dolly started when I was only five years old and attended one of her concerts. I wish I could tell you what songs she sang that night, but I honestly do not remember a single one. What I do remember is being completely dazzled by her big hair, beautiful costumes, and larger-than-life p

My Bible is showing age. The cover is peeling away, the edges are worn, there are notes everywhere, and I’m fairly certain most people would have replaced it by now. I can’t. There are too many years in those pages. Too many notes written during different seasons of my life. Too many verses underlined because, at that particular moment, I needed those words. So there I sat this Sunday morning with my worn-out Bible open and little hands busy beside me, listening to two messag

Fifteen years ago, I started a little blog called Modern Farm Wife. Social media was changing quickly, and so was the way people got their information. Articles about agriculture were being shared faster than ever, and unfortunately, so was misinformation. I remember feeling frustrated watching people who had never stepped foot on a farm tell consumers what was happening on one. I knew I couldn't speak for every farmer or every farm. But I could tell our story. So that's what