Series & Collections

Many of my posts are part of ongoing series and collections — conversations I return to as I navigate motherhood, ambition, and raising thoughtful humans. This page gathers them in one place, so you can explore, read along, or jump into whatever resonates most right now.

The Guilt Trap: Rewriting What Motherhood Really Means

A six-part series unpacking mom guilt, ambition, and redefining “good enough” in motherhood.

Kids Book Recommendations: Adventures We Can Take from the Livingroom Floor

A monthly series sharing children’s book recommendations rooted in curiosity, cultural awareness, and real-life storytime moments.
  1. Introduction Post
  2. February: Little Readers, Big Histories: Black History Book Picks
  3. March: Women Who Changed the World: Women’s History Month Book Picks (coming soon)

Essays & Reflections

Thoughts on motherhood, ambition, adventure, culture, and finding yourself again in the midst of raising kids.

Popular posts from this blog

Navigating Mom Guilt: Part 1 from Guilt to Growth

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  Where does mom guilt come from? Since I started working part-time last year, I’ve noticed something that’s hard to ignore: despite sharing parenting with Al, I still feel a disproportionate amount of pressure when it comes to my role as a mom. I’m sure I’m not the only one. In fact, according to a 2017 survey by Good to Know , 78% of moms feel guilty, and 68% of them feel guilty at least once or twice a day (Allard, 2019). I know that I can’t be alone in this feeling — this nagging sense that no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough. Can you relate? Podcasts, blogs, and Instagram accounts are devoted to decoding the feelings of guilt and inadequacy many of us experience. It’s a little distressing, but also comforting, in a way, to know that there’s a community of moms out there all feeling the same thing. But it also raises a question: Why does it feel like we can’t escape the weight of "mom guilt"? Where does it come from? The “Motherhood Myth” I guess I like thinking o...
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Redefining 'Good Enough': Part 2 from Guilt to Growth

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Embracing Imperfection in Motherhood   I can still remember the day that H told one of my friends that I was the coolest person he knows. Yeah, he was three at the time. Yeah, I’m not going to be the coolest person forever. BUT at that moment, I was. How great is that?  In our last post, we talked about how mom guilt is culturally and socially created and often stems from unrealistic expectations. Believe me, I can relate to that too well. So, today we are going to focus on how we are good and that is good enough. This idea of good enough is often warped by perfectionism and social comparison. It is hard to imagine that our journey through motherhood is even normal with all the momgrams and #momgoals out there.  Yet, when we take out the comparison and check our own perfectionism often we find that “good enough” isn’t actually failure, it’s freedom.  The Problem with Perfection Whenever I think of perfectionism I am reminded of a friend’s favorite quote, Steinbeck wr...
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Welcome to The Adventure of Motherhood & Ambition

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It is just beginning to be mango season in Puerto Rico . That means sweet, sugary juice dripping down our chins. You can see the fruit hanging, waiting to ripen on mango trees everywhere. A vecino (neighbor) stopped my son, E, and me on our walk to give us a bag of freshly picked Puerto Rican mangoes the other day. We took them to the beach. My sweet four-year-old, H, and almost two-year-old, E, sat together, splashing in the ocean. Fresh mango filled their hands, mouths, and covered their faces. Watching them, I felt a deep sense of peace. It wasn’t always this way, but this is our home. There were a lot of bumps and missteps on our way to making it so. Our Big Move to Puerto Rico: Parenthood & Adventure In early 2020, just as the world was beginning to change, Al and I faced a sudden shift in our plans. We had been accepted into the Peace Corps and were preparing for a new adventure when the opportunity fell through. Unsure of what was next, we moved in with his parents in Rhod...
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From Guilt to Growth: Embracing Imperfection in Motherhood

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  Unpacking Societal Expectations & Rewriting Our Own Definition of Success Last August, I started working part-time for the first time in years. I loved using my brain differently—but I also felt this crushing guilt every time I left my kids. Even when they were fine, even when we were fine, I still felt like I was falling short. Over time, I started to realize I wasn’t alone in this. Most moms I know carry some version of this guilt—like we’re always failing someone no matter how hard we try. But why? Where does it come from? And more importantly: how do we stop it from running our lives? This series is my deep dive into what I’ve learned (and what I’m still learning). We’ll unpack the root of mom guilt, how to rewrite what “good enough” looks like, and how to build a life that feels more whole—even if it’s not perfect. Over the next six posts, I’ll be exploring mom guilt more deeply: Where does mom guilt really come from? We’ll dig into the root causes. What does “good enou...
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Roots and Branches: Returning to the Place that Grew Me

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Introduction: Home Through New Eyes “Maycomb was a tired old town… there was nowhere to go and nothing to buy.” —Lee (1960) A few weeks ago my sister and I were driving to the high school for our youngest sibling’s graduation. The route stirred something big in us. We laughed about free‑pizza coupons, Arctic Circle cones, and the way we once believed the whole world fit inside that happy triangle of Pizza Hut, Arctic Circle, and the library. Now, as a mom, I’m amazed at the trust our parents placed in two wobbly girls on a tandem bike. I asked my sister for years if she was pedaling—she finally confessed she wasn’t. Still, we cruised safely through town, collecting tiny adventures. We had a dreamy childhood, and maybe that’s why I panic when my own boys wobble, fall, or feel off‑kilter. My parents wove a wide safety net; I wonder daily if I can match it. Coming home hasn’t always fit. For years it pinched like squeezing into a dress two sizes too small. But strolling memory‑lane with ...
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