Tag: life

Mother-Sense: The Legacy We Carry, The Wisdom We Give

by Mothersense, posted in Mental Health Recovery, Reclamation


As we approach Mother’s Day, my house feels a little fuller, the air a little thicker with memory, and my “Mother-Sense” is on high alert.


In the songwriting world, we talk about a “bridge”—that part of a song that connects where you’ve been to where you’re going. To me, that is exactly what motherhood is. It’s the bridge between the generations. It’s the radical hospitality of opening your heart to biological, bonus, and chosen children and saying, “There is a place for you here.”


More Than an Inheritance


I’ve been thinking a lot about legacy lately. In my “second half” of life, I’ve realized that the most valuable thing I can give my seven children and my three grandbabies isn’t something that can be kept in a bank or a box.


It’s Mother-Sense.


It’s that internal compass—the resilience to stand back up when life knocks your fence down, the intuition to know when a friend needs a quiet cup of coffee, and the bone-deep knowledge that they are loved, exactly as they are. It’s a functional, living tool kit for life.


The Reciprocal Song


People often say that mothers are the teachers, but if I’m honest, the song goes both ways.


My children have taught me more about courage than any lyric I’ve ever written.


They’ve shown me how to see the world through fresh eyes when mine were tired.


They’ve been the “steady anchors” in my own stormy seasons, reminding me that even when the melody changes, the foundation holds.


An Invitation to the Table


Whether you are a mother by birth, by marriage, or by choice, your “sense” is a superpower. It’s the wisdom that tells you when to hold on tight and when to let go so they can find their own rhythm. It’s the quiet strength that keeps the home fires burning, even when you’re busy building your own dreams and writing your own “second half.”


This Sunday, I won’t just be celebrating the title of “Mother.” I’ll be celebrating the resilience of every woman who has ever stepped into the gap, offered a hand, and shared her wisdom to light someone else’s path.


To my fellow mothers: What is one piece of ‘Mother-Sense’—that bit of hard-won wisdom—that you hope stays with your children forever? Let’s fill the comments with our collective legacy today

The Social Media Sinkhole: How to Post Without Getting Stuck

by Mothersense, posted in This Life


If you’ve ever picked up your phone to share a quick business update at 9:00 PM and suddenly realized it’s 10:15 PM and you’re watching endless reels of things you didn’t even know existed… you aren’t alone.
As a small business owner, social media is a vital tool. It’s how I connect with my community, share my songwriting journey, and help families navigate their insurance needs. But there is a very thin line between using the tool and being used by it. I call it the “Social Media Trap,” and it’s especially easy to fall into when you can’t sleep and find yourself doomscrolling into the early morning hours.
We only have so many productive hours in a day. Every thirty minutes lost to the “scroll” is thirty minutes taken away from our families, our creative projects, or the rest we desperately need.
1. The “Post and Ghost” Strategy
This is my top rule for staying productive. Before you even open an app, have your content ready—photo selected, caption written. Open the app, hit “Post,” and immediately close it. Do not look at the feed. Do not “just check one notification.” Get in, do the work, and get out.
2. Put the Phone to Work for You
Since I’m a fan of using the right tech for the job, I’ve started leaning on my phone’s internal settings to act as a “bouncer.” Most smartphones now have Digital Wellbeing or App Timer settings.
I’ve set a strict 30-minute daily limit for the apps that tend to suck me in. Once that time is up, the app grays out and locks me out for the day. It’s a great way to let the phone be the “bad guy” so I can stay focused on my actual goals.
3. The “No Phones in the Refuge” Rule
I’ve written before about the difference between a house and a HOME—a home is a refuge from the storm. That refuge shouldn’t be invaded by the noise of the entire world at 2:00 AM. If you struggle with doomscrolling at night, try leaving the phone in another room. Keep a physical notebook or an old student spiral by the bed instead. If an idea hits, write it down by hand.
4. Be Intentional, Not Accidental
Ask yourself: Is this scroll helping me grow, or is it just filling a gap? We are creative entrepreneurs. We have apps to build, songs to write, and legacies to protect. Our time is the most valuable asset we own.
Let’s Reclaim Our Time
If you’ve been feeling frustrated by the hours lost to the “pool” of social media, let’s make a pact to be more intentional this week. Use that reclaimed hour to write a verse, study for a new goal, or just get some actual, restorative rest.
How do you set boundaries with your screen time? Let’s talk about it (and then, let’s get back to the real work!).

Scraps, Spirals, and the Strength of a Rolling Pin

by Mothersense, posted in Mental Health Recovery, Reclamation


**Amazon affiliate links included**

If you walked into my kitchen today, you wouldn’t find a Pinterest-perfect setup with high-end gadgets. You’d find a dusting of all-purpose flour on the counter and me with a rolling pin in hand.
I’ve never been much for the “easy way” out. Whether it’s pressing out tortillas by hand or hand-stitching a memory quilt for my son, I like to feel the work. There’s a rhythm to using a pastry blender to cut the fat into the flour—a steady, grounding pace that helps clear the “topsy-turvy” noise of the week.


The “Spiral” Songwriter
While the dough is rising, I’m usually reaching for a notebook. But you won’t find any fancy leather-bound journals here. My catalog of 180+ songs started on the back of index cards and old student spirals left over from my teaching years.


There’s something about a scrap of paper that makes the lyrics feel more honest. It doesn’t have to be pretty to be powerful. It just has to be true.


The Tech Pivot: KitchenIQ
Even with my “old school” heart, I’m still a believer in moving forward. That’s why I’m building KitchenIQ. I’m taking all those scratch-made traditions and my “Grandmama” hacks and putting them into an app that actually understands a busy household. I’m learning FlutterFlow the same way I learned to bake—one step at a time, failing until it’s right, and not being afraid to get my hands a little dirty.


Living the “Second Half”
I spent a long time throwing myself into projects as a distraction. But today, whether I’m studying for my General Lines license, coding an app, or rolling out dough, I’m doing it with intention.


Life is too darn short to wait for the “perfect” tools. You use the flour you have, the scraps you can find, and the rolling pin your mama probably used. You just start.
Julie’s “Old School” Kitchen Favorites:


The Pastry Blender:    — This is the workhorse of my kitchen. Simple, effective, and doesn’t need a plug. I had to replace my old one I found at a thrift shop, it had a wooden handle…But I do enjoy the upgrade with the biscuit cutter and dough blade for splitting tortilla dough or making rolls.

Pastry Blender set


A Solid Wood Rolling Pin:  — Sometimes the simplest tools are the ones that last a lifetime. I do enjoy a good thrift find but the best is marble for tortillas and pie crusts, but that wood for the biscuits and breads. Either one works well or if you can have both, why not?

Marble Rolling Pin
Wooden Rolling Pin


Bulk All-Purpose Flour: — Proof that you don’t need fancy ingredients to make something people love. You can get a great 25 lb bag on Amazon, but I also get it from HEB or Wal Mart in 10lb bags, depending on how much baking I intend to do in any given period of time.

As Cody Johnson sang so well :

“If you got a chance, take it, take it while you got a chance
If you got a dream, chase it, ’cause a dream won’t chase you back
If you’re gonna love somebody
Hold ’em as long and as strong and as close as you can
‘Til you can’t”

Go chase dreams, be the light, change the world, protect the children…..

Always Julie

The Realities of Family Bonds

by Mothersense, posted in This Life

Family Is Complicated

My husband recently asked me to write a blog post about him—more specifically, about the very different families we came from. The conversation that sparked it was lighthearted at first, one of those “what if” discussions that start as fun and end up revealing something much deeper.

We were talking about winning the lottery. A huge sum. Life-changing money. And the question was simple: Who would we invite to ride with us on a party bus to go collect our winnings?

On the surface, the answer seems obvious—siblings, their spouses, our kids. The people closest to us. But then the real question emerged:
Who would be there simply to be happy for us… and who would be there because they think they might get something out of it?

That’s where the differences between our families became impossible to ignore.

My husband is one of five siblings, just like me. His family relationships are… complicated. His youngest sister is someone I never want to share oxygen with again—ever. That bridge isn’t just burned; it’s gone. His older sister and her husband, though, are genuinely good humans. Even when we don’t agree, I love them. They are kind, decent people.

His two brothers are also good people—but I don’t think they’d appreciate the invitation, nor would they accept it under the simple premise of come and celebrate with us. That kind of uncomplicated joy isn’t really how things work in his family.

My family, on the other hand? They’d be there—all of them.

All of my kids and their significant others.Nephews, nieces. My older sister, my brother, my two other sisters, and their spouses. Not because they expect anything, but because that’s how my family has always been. Through good times and bad, joy and grief, stability and chaos—they’ve shown up. Emotionally. Financially. In the best ways they can and know how.

And I’ll admit—I take that for granted sometimes.

Moments like this remind me that not everyone grows up with that kind of family. Not everyone has people who love them even when they aren’t very lovable. Not everyone has a safe place to land.

My husband’s family is very different. Relationships are strained. There’s a lot of water under the bridge, and I don’t think anyone really knows how to fix it—or if they even want to. For me, at least where the youngest sister is concerned, reconciliation isn’t on the table.

What hurts the most for my husband isn’t just angry words or apologies that went nowhere. It’s what he sees as deliberate exclusion—certain children left out by their own parents, “family” events that don’t include all of the family.

The last time everyone was invited to something was his dad’s 70th birthday. He’s 76 now.

Something changed. No one will explain why. And it hurts.

He’s asked his older siblings. He’s tried to understand. He’s no longer speaking to his parents. And while time has passed, the wound hasn’t healed.

I remember one particularly difficult season. He called his mother, needing to talk, needing comfort. She said, “I don’t want to hear it.”
I heard it. From her own mouth.
And it broke my heart.

That was four years ago. Things aren’t much better now.

Family is complicated. It’s messy. But it should be the place you go when things fall apart. It should be the place where you can ask for help, an ear, a shoulder. For my husband, it hasn’t been that.

I am one of five.
My husband is one of five.
We came together nearly ten years ago—baggage and all.

I am deeply grateful for the family I came from. I love them. I’m proud of them. I’m grateful for the family I’ve created too—five humans I gave birth to and two I claim as my own. They are good, decent people, and I know they will look out for one another long after I’m gone.

My husband, even after all this time—after being welcomed and accepted into my family long ago—still struggles with the contrast. Sometimes he’s in awe of the relationships I have with my siblings. Sometimes, I think he’s a little envious.

And honestly? I get it.

Because while he didn’t come from that kind of family, he does have one now. They love him. They root for him. They pray for him. And that matters—even if it doesn’t erase the damage from where he came from.

So if we ever win the lottery?

T and T can ride the party bus with us. All of my family can ride along too, fly my girls and their guys in to make the trip with us, maybe include Curtis and Shelly and just roll out and have fun together. 

The rest can hear about it after the fact and wonder why they didn’t get an invite.

Family is complicated.

Love and Light. Hang tight.

The Becoming : Pride in the midst of chaos

by Mothersense, posted in This Life

Both Things Can Be True

This past week felt like a culmination of so many moments for my niece.

She is my older sister’s only child, and she is truly a gem of a human—kind, smart, hardworking, and quick with a perfectly timed sassy comeback when the moment calls for it. It’s her senior year, and with that comes all the lasts of high school, not just for her, but for her mom too. Anyone who has parented a senior knows those endings hit in unexpected ways.

My niece is a 4-H and FFA gal, a band kid, and a Girl Scout. Through these programs she has learned responsibility, leadership, grit, creativity, and how to show up even when things are hard. I am so incredibly proud of her accomplishments. At her last county show, she earned Reserve Champion with pickled beets (yes—pickled beets!), and her market broilers made the sale. Those are not small wins. They are the result of years of early mornings, late nights, dirty boots, careful planning, and persistence.

Another “last” arrived quietly when I had the chance to talk with my sister about what comes next for her baby—her everything. And make no mistake, this kid has options. Several schools have already accepted her, and some came with scholarship packages. That is huge. That is exciting. That is the payoff for all those years of busyness and commitment.

It sent me straight back in time to my own years as a mom with kids who showed. The careful choosing of recipes. The guarding of certain ones like state secrets (banana butter, I’m looking at you). The pride of watching your kids take ownership of their work. Even my two older daughters—without any guidance from me—entered items and won prizes. There is something deeply satisfying about watching your children surprise you with who they are becoming.

All of that nostalgia, love, and pride has been swirling around me this week… while my own life looks a bit like a shit show.

Our water heater quit and is limping along on a temporary fix after days without hot water. I’m dealing with a kidney infection and a pharmacy run that couldn’t come soon enough. Our car is broken down and has a flat tire. My husband had a job lined up, attended orientation, only to be told days later that the position had already been filled. And just to round things out, I sliced my fingers open trying to pry a tin can (yes, I absolutely should know better), which earned me an ER visit, a tetanus shot, glued fingers, a wrapped thumb, and the loss of a good portion of my thumb pad. Goodbye thumbprint.

And yet—both things can be true.

I can feel immense love and pride for my niece and her accomplishments while my own world feels messy, loud, painful, and frustrating. I won’t fall into woe is me. This is my life. It is complicated and exhausting and sometimes downright ridiculous. There are days I want to strangle someone (figuratively… mostly). But then there are days when I glance in the rearview mirror and realize how far I’ve come.

I’ve survived every single thing I thought would break me.
That survival rate? 100%.

Am I the same person I once was? Absolutely not. But isn’t that the point? Life is about the becoming. About collecting skills, wisdom, scars, and stories. About learning how to stand back up. About making the world a little better where we can—just like my lovely niece is already doing.

And yes, you’d better believe I can still recite the 4-H pledge, parts of the FFA Creed, and the Girl Scout Promise.

Here’s to the becoming in 2026.
Love and light, y’all 🕯️