My husband does the laundry. No one asks him to, and often no one thanks him for doing it. But somehow, every week, our clothes, our kids' clothes, the towels, the sheets; they all get cleaned. And with each load, the jealousy grows.
Throwing the piles into the washing machine is definitely the easy part. From there, he sorts them into mounds of hang dry vs. dryer items, hangs the clothes, folds the towels and clothes, and puts the fresh sheets on the beds.
A couple of times per week, I walk into our bedroom to find a tidy little…
Despite having the family, the home, and the life I’ve always wanted, I feel like I am always irritable.
I know why I am so irritable. At least, I thought I knew why I was so irritable. As a mother of a six-month-old and a two-and-a-half-year-old, I am in a constant state of exhaustion.
But I recently found myself thinking, am I choosing to make anger my new standard?
I am a happy person, I love my life and the people in it. I like to stop to point out a butterfly to my daughters or smell a flower. …
Welcome to The Motherload Publication.
Please take a moment to read our welcome letter to familiarize yourself with our publication and what we are passionate about. We are happy to be adding new writers daily and would love to welcome you to our team. Though we are new, we already have a strong group of mothers on board!
If you have dreamt of becoming a mother or have now become one. If you have fostered children or been a surrogate. If you have welcomed children into your home through adoption, IVF, or stork delivery. Your perspective will be valued here.
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I was lucky to have a milk supply the came in early and abundantly following the birth of my second daughter. My child’s tummy was filled, along with one or two six-ounce milk storage bags per day. Within a few weeks, we had bags spilling out of the freezer.
It was a very fortunate problem to have.
Each little bag was labeled with milk volume. Each little bag was sorted by date. Each little bag delicately and lovingly placed in the queue.
My little soldiers, standing ever ready to come to my rescue should my breasts need a break, or…
Before becoming a mother, I had strong feelings towards breastfeeding.
My stance was that I would do everything in my power to make it happen. There were no negative opinions about anyone who chose otherwise, but I couldn’t wait to breastfeed.
Now as a breastfeeder with over two years of nursing experience, I know that breast is not always best.
My first child was breastfed until she was 20 months old. Early on we struggled through cracked nipples, but it was mostly a mutually enjoyable experience. …
Welcome to The Motherload Publication.
Slang website Wiktionary defines the motherload as “a very large amount of something, especially something valuable.” Not only does our publication ‘The Motherload’ aspire to be a leading source for valuable information, but we also feel that the name accurately represents the immeasurable load mothers carry on a daily basis.
For women who dream of being mothers or who are decades removed from children living in their homes, the motherload is the publication for you. We are a welcoming, supportive group of women sharing the load of motherhood.
In this publication, you can expect to…
I have read story after story about the difficulties of the pandemic. While I agree it has been hard, I realized the changes forced upon us have not all been negative.
Let’s face it, this pandemic has been incredibly tough for everyone. Being grouped in this category likely lends to a bias, but I feel it has been especially difficult for new parents. The isolation, the lack of help, and the regular routine lost before you even factor in the new baby.
However, while reflecting on this very challenging time, I couldn’t help but realize several positive things.
First of…
I miss you, my sweet snuggly bear.
Your warm cheek, your tuft of hair.
Your touch, your smell I crave.
My attention you have waived.
I am here and waiting for you.
Should you produce a soft coo.
Used to your calling in the night.
Now only my pillow I hold tight.
Gone are the nights, you on my robe.
Softly whispering into your lobe.
Little bundle in the palm of my hand.
Burning the memory like a brand.
With every delicate noise, I rise.
My mind has imagined your cries.
You have grown, you are able. …
Every day more and more people are affected by cancer.
Often your initiation to the club comes like a punch to the gut, and like the Yellowstone brand, once you’re in, you’re in. Whether it is you yourself who has been diagnosed or a close family member, you’ve been branded. And just like that, life is taking you down a different, unplanned path.
My life has been rerouted twice by breast cancer, and in both instances, there are clear takeaway messages for early detection.
The first time the breast cancer bomb dropped within my close-knit family, it picked the most…
At six months, my daughter slept through the night and the next day I crawled out of bed feeling terrible.
For months I had been dreaming of the blessed day when our infant would sleep through the night. The long nights with multiple wakings and hours of rocking back to sleep had made weeks feel like months. But our daughter finally slept 12 hours through the night.
The next day I was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted.
Our little girl wasn’t always a good sleeper. Especially when her four month sleep regression attacked. It snuck up on us like a…