“Just Another Day at the Kuelper House” captures a lively morning of family chaos. Alyne’s energetic mischief includes swinging the cat, stealing her sister Hattie’s last cracker, and rejecting tea over a minor etiquette slip. Amid playful sibling drama and parenting challenges, the household buzzes with unpredictable antics. Despite the mess, the narrator finds joy in these moments, celebrating the unique, loving chaos that makes their home feel alive and special.

When will I ever be good enough for anybody? For my friends, for my family? But mostly for myself. When will I ever say or do the “right” thing?

Grieving is hard. Especially when that person meant the entire world to you. You are not alone. When you are feeling down or feeling sad, this is a good place to be. The goal of this is to help your grieving process. I am going through the grieving process. Let's go through it together.

Trigger warning!! This story is about eating disorders and struggles with body image. Talking about the struggles of thoughts and actions.

This is a short story about brutal and agonizing loss. It shows the ups and downs of loosing someone so close and important to you, creating bonds between your family and having to grieve for the rest of your life.

Dear Abigail, It is difficult for me to put into words what it meant to have you, my oldest niece, and your grandmother present when your cousin’s two-year old inadvertently knighted me with the vacuum cleaner attachment. I’m striving to remain humble in the face of the daunting responsibility associated with becoming the first “Earl of Hoovers”.

In the quiet corners of a once-bustling oak table, a young mind finds more than just a place to eat; it becomes a classroom, a launching pad, and a mirror of growth. From decoding chemical equations to guiding a younger sibling through multiplication, each seat tells a different chapter of transformation. What began as a dining room centerpiece evolves into a silent witness of ambition, mentorship, and resilience. Want to know how one table can carry the weight of a family’s dreams? Pull up a chair, there’s a story waiting to be shared.

The nostalgia of the past that lingers in the air, for those joy and abundance and everyone worked in harmony. A place of Glee a place to be free..

Parenthood is a journey like no other, and no amount of preparation can truly equip you for it. There’s always that nagging thought in the back of my mind: how can I protect my little ones from the countless challenges the world throws their way? It’s a whirlwind of emotions, with a constant stream of thoughts racing through my head. I’d heard countless stories from other parents about the infamous “Terrible Twos,” but nothing could have prepared me for the reality of this stage. Each day brings new surprises and lessons, making this experience both challenging and incredibly rewarding.

Gwendolyn is embroiled in a bitter battle with the pug next door. I believe she blames him for the hole in the front yard. The neighbors have done their best to back my explanation that the hole is the responsibility of the German Shepard down the street, but she isn’t having any of it.

First, to newscasters who report “The car, It swerved to miss the cat and wound up in the neighbor’s living room”, or “The Governor, She signed the bill, but used invisible ink”; Stop it.

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My mom finally left my dad, she moved an hour and a half away, it killed me. Me and my siblings went to live with our grandmother, we didn't see my mom for 9 months, my dad drank all the time. Having two absent parents really affected me. However it wasn't until my dad met my stepmom that things turned sour.

Toddlerhood is hard. Especially when said toddler learns something new. Being a young mom adds to that.

I began to write this years ago I didn't update any spelling or grammar to get the originally of it, I added on every now and again, I just finished it off. I wanted to make a book of my lifetime but I don't think anything interesting will come by for me to write.

I pour myself a bowl of cereal. Lucky charms, my favorite. As I set the bowl on the table, my toddler runs out of her room "Mama" she cries, reaching her little hands as high as she can. I sigh and lift her up. "What is it baby? Do you want a snack." She signs for more, which she seems to think is how to ask for a snack. Reluctantly, I grab a box of goldfish from the cupboard and pour some into the bowl, popping one into my mouth. I set her down and hand it to her. "Don't spill this okay? Mama is going to go sit and eat her cereal." She runs into her room and shuts the door. I sit down, only to realize I forgot to grab a spoon. As I stand up, I hear the pitter patter of little feet coming towards me.

This short story is about the memory I hold about the day my grandfather passed, and every thought that crossed my mind that day.

That night, Pipkin curled into a tight ball in his mossy bed, a deep sigh escaping his tiny body. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the constant gnawing of anxiety. The apple tree’s roots hummed with a quiet strength, and the scent of the earth lulled him into a peaceful sleep.

The journey of my pregnancy, filled with both ups and downs, triumphs and tribulations. It’s a rollercoaster of emotions, encompassing love, joy, sadness, and happiness. As a first-time mother with a challenging upbringing, I’ve faced numerous struggles, but I’m determined to navigate this new chapter of my life with courage and resilience.

We live in a world where many secrets are hidden behind a door, that no one wants to open. As children, we create fortresses to hide in or clubhouses to play in. For me, my fortress was a bit different. I didn't enter it solely based on my own private playtime. I entered it each night, to hide from the screams and glass shattering against the wall.