Life in Full Spectrum: Unfiltered. Unmasked. Unapologetic.

  73° outside, nearly 100° inside. He was panting, blinking slow, and waiting for help that never should’ve been needed. This morning, my daughters and I ran into Ingles to grab a few things. Nothing major, just a quick trip. But as we were leaving, our day shifted. The car next to us had a dog sitting alone inside. It was 73 degrees outside. The car wasn’t running. The air conditioner wasn’t on. And every single window was rolled up tight. Now I don’t know about you, but I’ve read enough, seen enough, and lived long enough to know what that means. With the temperature outside, the temperature inside can climb to over 100 degrees within 10 minutes. Sometimes sooner. And that’s not just uncomfortable—it’s dangerous. Deadly, even. So we waited. We watched the clock. We kept our eyes on the dog. And in that short  15-minute window , we started to see signs that the heat was already taking a toll. He began  panting , opening his mouth and breathing heavier. He was  restl...

  Once you see it, you can’t unsee it. Once you know the truth, you can’t unknow it. And tonight, I saw it. I learned something about myself tonight. Not in a cute, quirky, “fun fact” kind of way—but in a gut-punching, soul-checking, sit-in-the-car-staring-at-the-steering-wheel kind of way. Aiden had a friend over, and that friend brought Chinese food into the house. The second I saw it, I  knew  I’d be having Chinese food for dinner. No debate. No negotiation. Just… yep, that’s what we’re doing. And that was the moment I realized: I’m not in control of this. Not the way I thought I was. And you need to understand something about me— Admitting I’m not in control of something? That’s hard for me. Really hard. Because somewhere along the way, I decided that control equaled strength, and that losing control—over myself, over my choices, over anything in my life—was a flaw. A weakness. Something to be ashamed of. So I’ve spent years convincing myself I  was  in cont...

  She works full-time. Her kids still go to bed hungry. This isn’t neglect—it’s the cost of survival for too many in America. It’s a question that gets tossed around too easily. Usually by someone who’s never had to choose between paying rent or buying groceries. “Why do people have children they can’t afford?” they ask—smugly, judgmentally—like poverty is always the result of poor choices instead of systemic failures. But the truth is far more complex than that. Because No One Can Predict the Future Most people don’t set out to bring children into financial instability. They have dreams, jobs, plans. They’re stable—until they’re not. A layoff. A medical diagnosis. A global pandemic. A car breaking down when there’s no savings to fix it. Life can change overnight, and for many working-class families, there’s no safety net to fall back on. Having a child during a time of hope doesn’t mean they “should’ve known better.” It means they believed in a future that was taken from them—not...