Midwest Mimi

  • From Public School to Homeschool: Protecting My Children After Systemic Failure

    Why We Left Public School Our homeschooling journey didn’t begin with picture-perfect lesson plans or a carefully chosen curriculum. It began with heartbreak and with the simple truth that protecting our kids was nonnegotiable. I was homeschooled myself and loved the experience, but I made a different choice for my own family. I valued the…

  • This Wasn’t the Life I Saw For Myself ❤️

    This wasn’t the life I saw for myself. I’m a 43-year-old disabled mom to three kids, married to a woman who’s walked with me through hard seasons and healing. We’ve been together for nine years and finally married on March 2, 2024. We spent seven of those years searching for answers about my health. She…

  • Taking God Too Seriously to Enjoy What He Made

    Legalistic religion can make us so busy watching everyone else that we miss the life right in front of us. Faith, for me, is about relationship, grace, and learning to notice God in the ordinary moments.

  • I Tell the Story. I Make the Meaning.

    Telling my story did not erase what happened to me. It changed my relationship to it. From telling one safe person to eventually writing publicly, I learned that George could be part of my story without being its author.

  • Closure Is Not Always a Conversation

    Closure is not always a conversation, an apology, or a neat ending. Sometimes it is finally saying what you needed to say, accepting that someone you loved also failed you, and learning how to move forward without pretending the hurt did not matter.

  • I Don’t Think Everything Happens for a Reason

    People often say everything happens for a reason, but I do not believe every wound was chosen by God. I believe we live in a broken world, and that God can still meet us in the aftermath, restore what was lost, and help something good grow from what never should have happened.

  • I Still Want More

    I am happy with my life, but that does not mean I have stopped wanting more. I still want better health, more money, a home of our own, more freedom, and a bigger writing career. Contentment is not the absence of ambition. Sometimes it is simply learning to enjoy the breeze while you keep building…

  • Being Easy to Entertain Might Be My Greatest Life Skill

    Curiosity has helped keep my world big even when chronic illness has made my life physically smaller. Books, art, research, writing, family, and even something as simple as watching my son blow the seeds from a dandelion remind me there is always more to notice, learn, and wonder about.

  • A Small Life Is Not the Same Thing as a Meaningless One

    A life can become smaller in radius without becoming smaller in meaning. Disability, limited stamina, and money have changed the life I once imagined, but they have not taken away the people, stories, faith, beauty, and ordinary moments that make it full.

  • The Chair Theory

    What if fitting in has less to do with changing yourself and more to do with finding where you belong? The Chair Theory offers a simple way to think about friendship, self-acceptance, and learning when it is okay to find another table.

  • He Picked His People

    A joke on my porch about being the common denominator in two divorces turns into a harder question about love, loyalty, work, and what happens when the ways we care for people also cost the people closest to us.

  • The Women We Become

    Becoming Rae’s mother did not mean I stopped being my mother’s daughter. Sixteen years later, as I watch my daughter become a young woman, I understand more about what my mother gave me, what I passed on, and the women we keep becoming.

  • They Call Me Strong Because They Do Not Want to Call Me Unpaid Labor

    People call mothers like me strong, but sometimes strong is simply the word used when no one wants to say unsupported, overworked, or unpaid. Family caregiving is love, but it is also labor. When systems depend on mothers to coordinate therapies, equipment, accommodations, transportation, and safety, praising our strength does not make the work disappear.…

  • Help Has a Voicemail

    I have a list on my phone that looks like it should belong to someone who works for a human services agency. Except I do not. I am the mother. Before disabled families receive help, there is another job no one talks about: finding the help. It is a full-time, unpaid, invisible job filled with…

  • I Have Lived, and I Still Love My Life

    Some evenings, peace feels like a summer breeze on the porch. My life has not been easy, and I would not choose every hard thing again. But my life is not only the record of what hurt me. It is family, survival, softness, love, and the ordinary wealth of a home I still want to…

  • Survival Is Not the Same as Safety: What We Forget When We Praise Strong Children

    When we praise children for being strong, we do not always ask what made them need that strength so young. Reading Demon Copperhead made me think about my daughter Rae, about the burned pot of macaroni and cheese she tried to make for her brother, and about the difference between a child being resilient and…

  • She Learned to Work Before the World Called It Work

    Rae learned to work before the world called it work. At twelve, she cleaned my brother’s shop office for real money, real expectations, and a little freedom of her own. I am proud of the confidence work gave her. I also grieve that money had to matter so young.