by Stacey Thacker | Jan 5, 2016 | Dear Weary Mom, girlmom, Hope for the Weary Mom, MODsquad, Motherhood, mothers of daughters, Parenting |
Dear Weary Mom, We passed each other in the cereal aisle today at the grocery store. I may have unintentionally overheard you negotiating with your four year old about how much sugar his sugar cereal could have. I smiled to myself and secretly wanted to give you a...
by Stacey Thacker | Dec 18, 2015 | Coffee, Encourage, girlmom, Hope for the Weary Mom, MODsquad, Motherhood, mothers of daughters, Parenting |
I am a weary mom. Obviously. I know, many days, ok most days, my messy ponytail and dark circles scream it in more ways than one. It doesn’t matter how much make-up I wear, it is written all over my face. Just in case you are looking for some other things...
by Stacey Thacker | Oct 24, 2015 | Conferences, Encourage, Hope for the Weary Mom, Motherhood, Parenting, speaking |
I’m sitting at the airport waiting. My flight was supposed to leave Rochester, NY tomorrow. But, I changed it to today. I really felt strongly I needed to get home to my family. See, my girl, the one struggling so much is starting a new treatment this week. I...
by Stacey Thacker | Jul 7, 2015 | Connect, MODsquad, Motherhood, mothers of daughters, Parenting, Writer.Girl, Writing |
“The hardest part of writing is writing.” – Nora Ephron I love this quote. Thank you Nora. Simple and to the point. I’ve been writing words lately in the too few nooks and crannies of my life. I’ve chased words and stared at the blank...
by Stacey Thacker | Jun 14, 2015 | DaySpring, Motherhood, mothers of daughters, Parenting |
Dear Daughter, I see you standing somewhere between the little girl you’ve always been and the young woman you are trying to become. I know the world feels big and scary at times. It can be tough to focus on what really matters. But remember you are set apart to be...
by Stacey Thacker | Apr 28, 2015 | Encourage, Hope for the Weary Mom, Parenting |
I found myself making the best of a chair beside her hospital bed in the wee small hours of Friday morning. She was sleeping. I was wrestling in a pit of despair. It felt like I was drowning without water. There were no eloquent words. No verses that rose up from the...
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