Heather is an essayist, editor, CMO, mommy, and wife seeking stillness while in a state
of nearly constant motion. She lives, walks, and eats in the greatest city in the world: Chicago.
This summer was a celebration of unplugging and rediscovering life’s simple joys. From mornings by the ocean to starry nights in the Grand Canyon, stepping away from the noise revealed beauty in everyday moments. It’s a reminder to pause, disconnect, and savor the world’s quiet magic—and carry that gratitude back into daily life.
Read MoreThe Mother Load is a quiet, unseen weight carried by mothers like me, filled with mental lists, small gestures, and love. Every act reflects devotion and care, from packing lunches to late-night cuddle rituals. Amid the grind of daily life, these moments of connection remind us that the load, though heavy, is the ultimate gift of love.
Read MoreInspired by the Kelce brothers' touching bond, I reflect on the beautiful chaos of raising two sons. From daily squabbles to unspoken "I love yous," their relationship is a mix of rivalry, camaraderie, and loyalty. My hope? That one day, they'll be each other's biggest fans—just like the Kelces.
Read MoreAs I gear up for Super Bowl LVIII, I couldn’t help but notice the striking parallels between NFL quarterbacks and moms. Both juggle impossible playbooks, call audibles under pressure, and carry their teams through wins and losses. Like Patrick Mahomes, we moms are field generals—but with way less cheering and way more snacks.
Read MoreCelebrating the unapologetic strength and wisdom of women who've transcended youth's early accolades to embrace life's deeper victories with grace, resilience, and a dash of irreverence.
Read MoreIt’s that magical time of year when mailboxes are stuffed with catalogs and sale postcards. But tucked somewhere in all of that direct mail, I always hope to find a festive holiday note or two. I know they have a terrible reputation, but I honestly love Christmas cards.
Read MoreMy mother wrote letters to my grandmother almost weekly for many years; her perfect handwriting documented the quotidian events raising the four of us in the decades before email and the internet. They were carefully saved, and recently my mom sent one to me, dated September 13, 1977. In it, she writes about the days leading up to my first day of kindergarten.
Read MoreIn early 2020 when things shut down, my family and I shut down, too. At first, it was just supposed to be a few weeks. No big deal: After Spring Break (our trip was canceled like everything else), we’d be back.
Of course, it didn’t quite work out that way.
Read MoreOne day during a miserable time in my life, I was wandering around a neighborhood store when I saw a small, gray stone with the word Truth painted on it. I picked it up. The oval fit perfectly in my palm, and something shifted in me. I realized I’d been lying to myself, lying to those closest to me, just to get through each day.
Read MoreLast year I wrote about seasons of resolutions, which is my approach to adopting new habits a few months at a time in the New Year. Each quarter is an opportunity to grow and learn, and this process keeps me motivated throughout the year. I usually approach it with a spirit of renewal and change, with clarity and resolve.
This year, resolve has new meaning.
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