Fall has arrived in my little Ohio town! I love it so much—the trees are every color, the air is brisk, and the crock pot makes every meal. I'm keeping busy working on a few submissions for various writing projects, which typically involves a lot of pacing around my house, positive self-talk, and battling the beast that is Procrastination. This week, I want to share a couple of pieces I wrote for iBelieve: The first is about embracing married life before having children. The second, a . . .
Last weekend, my husband and I drove home to Ohio after spending a few days with family in the Chicagoland area. We loaded up the car and left on Sunday afternoon, shortly before the Seattle Seahawks began their game against the Atlanta Falcons. I slid into Seahawks fandom a few years ago—a little bit through living in Seattle, a lot bit through my marriage to Darren. We never miss a game, so, naturally, we listened closely to the game on the radio as we drove the 5 hours to home. I cannot . . .
Have you ever walked into a room for a specific reason, only to suddenly realize you’ve forgotten the reason? It’s disorienting, maddening, and can make you feel like you’re one million years old—you had set out with clear intentions and, somewhere along the short way, your purpose was muddied. This has certainly happened to me before and it feels terrible. Lately, however, it hasn’t been an in-home errand I’m forgetting mid-way through, causing me to feel confused and crazy—it’s my vocation. . . .
Today marks one year since my husband and I arrived in Dayton, Ohio, with the ink still drying on our marriage license and everything we owned thoughtfully stuffed into a U-Haul truck. We’d traveled through 12 states in one month; although we were happy to finally be in one place for a while, those feelings were countered with a dim reality: This isn’t home. Even though we would be unpacking our belongings and settling in to this new town, it really wasn’t home—not immediately, anyway. That . . .
I still remember the night I somewhat haphazardly decided to watch the series finale of Parenthood in the presence of my husband, Darren. Of course, being a human who feels, I had cried during every Parenthood episode ever made, but the series finale was unlike any other episode. I wept uncontrollably, crying out nonsensical statements, like, “I hate this show!!!” (I really just hated that this show was ending). Darren was confused, concerned, and awkward—unsure of how to tend to me as the . . .
Hello, everyone—I’m back. I came back to my computer! Small step for (wo)man, giant leap for Mallory [after the week I had]. I wrote a little post that received a big-to-me response and it took me on quite the roller coaster ride. I was encouraged, stretched, challenged, humbled, and oh my word, so insulted. Some people act really big behind their little computer, feeling so free to hit “Send” after typing a colorful array of demeaning put-downs once they read something they disagree with. . . .