In light of the gravity of the Coronavirus pandemic, the grief I have been experiencing the past few days over the dissolution of the college baseball...

When I said my prayers last night, I forced myself to give thanks for liquor and lice. Yes, liquor and lice; indisputably the two greatest challenges ...

This post was originally published by Grown & Flown I pop my head into my son’s room to say goodnight and am not surprised to discover him in t...

This post was republished on Blunt Moms and Maximum Middle Age. Nobody ever bothers to answer the landline in our house. There’s really no reason to...

This was originally published on Mamalode She responds within minutes to my post on Craigslist, visibly grateful to have stumbled upon such a terrific...

Few things have the power to instantaneously pulse terror through a mom’s veins like hearing your teenager gasping for breath on the other end of th...

It’s not often that I find myself at a loss for words. I’m a writer, after all; words are my lifeblood. Normally they course through me li...

Twenty years ago today, you alone forever altered the framework of my life, transformed the tapestry of my very core. You made me a mom. As you pushed...

This post was originally published on Ravishly Today I did something I had never before even considered; I contemplated the activities that might comp...

©2015 Melissa Tamberg-Heffron, as first published on Scary Mommy Few teenage rites of passage are met with as much sheer excitement (for them) and un...

This post was originally published on Ravishly and later republished on Mamalode I am rummaging through kitchen cabinets — scrambling to piece toget...

This post was originally published on Ravishly Like many people, I’m not a huge fan of needles. So while acupuncture wasn’t my first choice to tre...

©2015 Melissa Tamberg-Heffron, as first published on Scary Mommy Last year, my long-standing love/hate relationship with my ovaries came full circle:...

This story is my first contribution to the blogging group, Finish the Sentence Friday. This week’s writing prompt is: “In 2015, I learned….” I...

©2015 Melissa Tamberg-Heffron, as first published on Scary Mommy / Club Mid Just call me Stalker Mom. I admit it: I tracked my teen’s cell phone, a...

©2015 Melissa Tamberg-Heffron, as first published on Scary Mommy / Club Mid Today I celebrated my birthday with 46 candles adorning the cake. Normall...

©2015 Melissa Tamberg-Heffron, as first published on Scary Mommy / Club Mid If our house was on the verge of burning to the ground and my husband had...

©2015 Melissa Tamberg-Heffron, as first published on Scary Mommy / Club Mid After just one year, my son is walking away from a near full-ride college...

©2015 Melissa Tamberg-Heffron, as first published on Scary Mommy / Club Mid We call Aubrey our “unexpected blessing.” It has a better ring to it ...

©2015 Melissa Tamberg-Heffron, as first published on Scary Mommy / Club Mid Republished on All 4 Women It’s that inevitable time of year again. Soc...

We were vacationing in Maui last summer, celebrating my oldest son’s high school graduation and savoring the final weeks before he would be traipsin...

Note: Please ingest your sarcasm pill prior to reading.   Oh Facebook Friends, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways … I love you first thi...

By the time my daughter, Aubrey, made her unexpected debut into the family, my resume as a proven MOB (Mother of Boys) was padded with 15 years of har...

Dear Mrs. Kloos, Please forgive me for barely managing to eke out a hurried “hello” this morning when I dropped off Aubrey at preschool. I’m sor...

While pitching an inning in the final game of his college season today, my son intentionally tried to peg a batter. And I couldn’t be more ecstatic....

In our family, baseball has always been less of a pastime, more a way of life. So when faced with the question of whether our daughter would embrace t...

Republished Sept. 23, 2015 on Military Spouse To honor her husband’s 40th birthday last month, my friend Chrissy thoughtfully planned a day filled w...

Written in December 1998 A rose by any other name … just doesn’t smell as sweet. At least not to my 3-year-old son Tanner, who was planted...