Midwest Mimi

  • Building in the Margins

    Some weeks disappear into therapy appointments, paperwork, specialist visits, and whatever decides to break while I am trying to keep up. This is what progress looks like in a high-needs household when you are building a better future in scraps of time and leftover energy.

  • Taking Out the Trash

    We threw out what we didnā€™t need when we moved. Not just things. People too. It wasnā€™t dramatic or loud. Just a quiet decision to stop carrying what was making our life heavier, and start building something more peaceful for our family.

  • Start Where You Are and Grow Something Anyway

    I thought I needed land to start a garden. A yard. The right setup. But all we had was a small porch, a few salvaged pots, and kids willing to get their hands dirty. So we started anyway. This is what it looks like to grow something real in a space that wasnā€™t built for…

  • šŸŒæ We Tried to Fix a Rut With a Grill

    We had been in a rut. Not eating together. Not spending time together. So we tried to fix it with a simple plan to grill dinner. It didnā€™t go the way we expected. But somehow, it still gave us what we needed.

  • I Didnā€™t Refuse Help. I Didnā€™t Feel Safe Accepting It.

    When I turned down Early Intervention for my daughter, it wasnā€™t because I didnā€™t love her. It was because help didnā€™t feel neutral. It felt like exposure. For poor parents, the line between support and scrutiny is thin.

  • Still Walking

    A reflection on faith, covenant, and queerness from inside the tension. I still pray. I still believe. I still love my wife. I do not have every theological answer, but I am still walking.

  • The Life Iā€™m Writing Into Existence

    I donā€™t have the money to build the life I want yetā€¦ so Iā€™m writing it first. This is the story of how Iā€™m creating a safer, slower, more intentional life for my familyā€”starting with imagination and turning it into something real.

  • Grief That Grows

    Healing did not mean letting my mother go. It meant learning how to keep loving her in a way that did not cost me my own lifeā€”and allowing grief to change shape into something quieter, steadier, and still full of love.

  • Grief That Grows

    After my mother died, my family did not grieve in the same way. My dad withdrew, my brother went quiet, and I had to learn that different expressions of grief do not mean abandonmentā€”but they do change how we love each other.

  • Grief That Grows

    After eight years of anticipatory grief and the loss of my mother to early onset Alzheimerā€™s, I learned that grief doesnā€™t just take who you loveā€”it takes the shape of the world you built around them.

  • Parenting Again in Midlife: For the Mothers Who Thought Theyā€™d Be Done by Now

    What happens when the season you thought was coming never arrives? This essay is for women who find themselves parenting again in midlife, in bodies that have already lived. A reflection on layered motherhood, chronic illness, neurodivergence, and loving deeply while grieving what has changed.

  • Kids Do Well When They Can: Understanding Overwhelm Instead of Calling It Defiance

    My daughter had reached her limit long before I realized it. In the truck after a long day, her tone sharpened, her words came out rude, and I felt that familiar mix of frustration and helplessness. In the moment, it looked like bad behavior. What I could not see yet was that she wasnā€™t being…

  • Parenting Through Presence, Not Perfection: What My Kids Taught Me About Co-Regulation

    There were mornings I could feel myself going offline. Not dramatic. Just done. My patience thin, my nerves shot, my thoughts moving faster than I could hold them. Sometimes I would sit on the bathroom floor just to breathe and let the moment pass. And quietly, my kids would follow. They wouldnā€™t ask for anything.…

  • She Didnā€™t Sleep Through the Night for the First Three Years

    My daughter didnā€™t sleep through the night for the first three years of her life. Not once. She needed presence, pressure, and movement to settle. There was no diagnosis yet, no language for what we were navigating, only the quiet knowing that her body did not rest the way other babiesā€™ bodies seemed to. I…

  • What Long-Term Commitment Looks Like in Real Life

    Long-term commitment looks different when illness, kids, and stress are part of everyday life. A reflection on queer marriage, neurodivergent partnership, and choosing each other in quiet, practical ways.