• by Jaime Dishman

May celebrates mothers: There’s a beauty to this day in the month of May where we stop and celebrate the mothers who gave us life, gave us their days, gave us their best so we could become our best. 

  • by Jaime Dishman

It’s April. That month may not mean much to most folks, but in our family it’s a pretty big deal. No family birthday, no anniversaries, no big ceremonies. But there is one important thing that happens during the month of April. It’s garden growing time.  

  • by Jaime Dishman

I’ve started to write this month’s column over and over again. I’ve written a sentence, erased a sentence, retyped the same sentence, only to erase it all over again. What to write that can be spoken in only a few hundred words? What I really want is to sit down with my readers, look them in…

  • by Jaime Dishman

Tonight, my girls are making a puzzle. It’s 300 pieces and involves puppy dogs, pet shops and flowers. There are about 40 brown pieces, 85 black pieces, and some white thrown in, with pops of color for the flowers. 

  • by Jaime Dishman

She walked through my empty house on a Thursday night. No one was home, and I asked her to pick up some items out of my laundry room and bring them to me on her way to help me at my store for an after-hours class we were hosting. I had forgotten several important items I needed, and since sh…

  • by Jaime Dishman

As I’m writing, this week is halfway through. To be honest, it’s been a halfway kind of week, if there is such a thing. Halfway done tasks, halfway attention given, and halfway cooked suppers. (If tortillas with cheese slapped on them count as true quesadillas, then call me cook of the month.) 

  • Jaime Dishman

The call came in early on a Tuesday morning. “We have a six-day-old newborn. Would you be able to take him for a little while until we can find out whether he has family to place him with?”

  • Jaime Dishman

It happened while I wasn’t in the van. I left the van running, kids piled inside, while I ran in to drop off our little gymnastics lover at her teacher’s studio on a Tuesday afternoon. When I dashed back into the car, the four children left inside all started talking at once.

This letter written years ago, speaks to my heart, even today. I read the letter for the first time to the boy it was written to, all those years ago. His response to this was “I don’t even remember that day.” But I do. He turns 12 this month and these words, written five years ago, were for him.

  • Jaime Dishman

So Februarys can feel a little hard. It’s the love month and all. And for all the newly dating or engaged people, you can stop reading right now because you probably think I’ve lost my mind.

  • Jaime Dishman

We recently played a game with a group of friends that involved remembering. It’s not a particular gift of mine. My turn for the game arrived, and my assigned memory was to remember favorite gifts given to me over the years. I looked down at my hand, realizing I had nine red M&Ms, and ac…

  • Jaime Dishman

If I’m honest, I put my children to bed last night as though it wasn’t a privilege. I made the rounds, tucking all five into their beds, did goodnight kisses and a quick hug. Two of the kids wanted to talk more, and I hurried them.

  • By Jaime Dishman

Today, my oldest son is traveling with his grandparents across Arizona, exploring the Painted Desert, Hopi Indian ruins, and over the next few days, they will make their way toward the Grand Canyon.

  • By Jaime Dishman

I’ve felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. I’ve felt the weight of a million places to go, a million things to do, a million people to please. The rush from job to home, to soccer fields, to commitments, to places I’ve promised to be. I’ve said “yes” too often, when a “no” should hav…

  • By Jaime Dishman

Tonight, I layed down with my middle son. He’s right smack in the middle of our family. Two in front of him and two behind him. The truest middle child if there ever was one.

  • By Jaime Dishman

It’s love month. Single people hate it. Married people feel obligated. Dating people love it. Moms dread it – trying to figure out if a lollipop attached to a store-bought Valentine’s Day card will ever compare to the perfect Pinterest projects brought by kids with crafty moms. (OK, the last…

  • By Jaime Dishman

It’s a special kind of torture to be in the car with all our kids. I know that’s not a sentence that should ever be written. Or said. But now it’s out there.

  • By Jaime Dishman

If you’re reading this before Christmas morning, you should know that I am eagerly waiting on Christmas Day. I’m 35 years old, and even as I write this, there is a part of me that wants to start a countdown to Christmas. But it’s too early. And as my fingers type, Thanksgiving hasn’t even ha…

  • By Jaime Dishman

Can I just be honest for a minute and say I have no idea how to fill this page with words? I have words. But none feel right for a magazine put out to the general public. Most of you reading this don’t even know me. I’d imagine I could walk right past you in the grocery store and you’d have …

  • By Jaime Dishman

Lately, I’ve been laughing loudly. Sometimes on purpose, and sometimes because it just comes out. It started about two months ago, two days before my 35th birthday. I was beyond excited about turning 35. I can’t explain the rationale behind that, but I waited for it with the anticipation of …

  • By Jaime Dishman

Oh, summer. I’m entirely glad you’re here. For a long time after college I thought summers would never be the same. I could scarcely tell where spring ended and summer began, other than the telltale signs of the stifling Louisiana heat.