New Book Release: We are a Pantsuit Nation

Hi everyone... like so many, 2016 was a challenging year for me. I know you are probably thinking that maybe I'm having a nervous breakdown to be releasing another book. And you'd probably be right. But also because I am a writer. And writers have to write when the world most needs it.

And I need to be in a place in life where I can stand on my own two heels so I started to write a very cynical, possibly funny but more dark book about what a shit show of a year 2016 was and then I took a break by scrolling through my facebook feed (procrastination's best friend). There I saw a post on Pantsuit Nation​ and it was so full of optimism over adversity and of beauty and of hope. And the support was magnificent. And the community was so giving and honest and real and present. And I thought THAT is the book that needs to be written. A book for the community that gives the light to overcome the dark. They are the ones that deserve the stage.

So I wrote "We are a Pantsuit Nation" and it is available now on Amazon. It is a book for all ages that want to love with open arms and believe in a hopeful tomorrow. And I not only want to stand tall in my pantsuit, but I want to give back. So a percentage of all proceeds will go to Glennon Doyle Melton​s amazing charity Together Rising to benefit Aleppo. It is time for us all to rise together.
Thank you all for all that you do. Here's to you...

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1541156285/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1481980705&sr=8-1&keywords=we+are+a+pantsuit+nation

Mommas This is the Important Thing

You know how we all wish that motherhood came with some type of manual? But we wouldn't have time to read it even if we did so instead could we please, for the love, just let each other know the bullet point version of what is truly, really, don't forget, this makes a difference important and just focus on that and let all the other bullshit exhausting parts go?

I don't know what I'm doing as a mother about 92% of the time and about 4% of that remaining time I'm quoting things my mother used to say to me and the other 4% I'm googling things like how big is a sperm whale (67 feet #thanksgoogle). But this I know. This falls in the category of "really... is that seriously important?" Yes. And you know it is the Santa Shop. Seriously. You have a 12 mile to do list and you have to find $4 in cash under the couch cushions so that Junior can go shopping at school where everything costs $1 for things like flashing red and green bracelets that jingle while you walk. I know. I had to borrow money from my child's piggy bank (#feelfreetopin) so that my kids could shop like a bunch of ballers.

It is my absolute favorite thing at school to volunteer at.

To see these kids glow and smile and analyze like the weight of Christmas is on their shoulders to find their momma/daddy/brothers/sisters/mee maws the perfect gift, a few dollars in hand... it is the sweetest thing.
And my 7 year old Micah couldn't even wait to show me what he picked out just for me and gave these to me right at the Santa shop amidst the elf hats and cougar earrings. Actually this is the 2nd pair because the 1st pair broke upon opening. I LOVE them I said. I put them right on and he held me until I had no choice but to tear up. He told me at dinner last night that giving me those earrings was his favorite part of the day. I told him the truth, it was my favorite part of the day too.

So whatever your child brings home to you this holiday, please please give them your best reaction and wear it like a boss. They love us like wild no matter how much we get caught up in staying afloat. They love us. And you are doing an amazing job, momma. You are seen. And that is the first bullet point.

Now I'm going to go put in the other 8 pound a piece gold earrings that Sophia got me today that almost reach my shoulders. 10 more days. Keep on smiling. We've got this.

Cheers to you...

On Her Own Two Heels

She woke up one day alive with fever.

She realized that life was too long to live only to endure it. She was exhausted. She was drained thin by going through motions and routines and endless grinds that lacked any type of fire. She was in a maze coated in dead ends. She ran into walls. She forgot how to dance. She forgot how to fly. 

But then she looked up. 

There was a whole sky that she forgot existed. She forgot how stunning it was to witness day surrender into night and to rise again was. She forgot that there was more than one way to live. She looked down and remembered that she had a pulse, two hands and two heels and that was enough to know that she was worthy of getting to work.

Writing was her therapy and truth was her religion and she decided to not keep either one in boxes anymore.

She stopped waiting to share her words.

She stopped waiting for Saturday night to wear high heels. 

She stopped waiting for permission to wear the pants. 

She stopped waiting for her children to be older for her to be her true self. 

She stopped waiting for summer to see the ocean. 

She stopped waiting for the next new year to make a change. 

She stopped waiting for forty. 

She stopped waiting to be seen. 

She stopped waiting for the perfect body before she would show her skin. 

She stopped waiting for the seasons of her life to be in order for her to feel whole. 

She stopped waiting for someone to ask her to dance.

She was going to fucking dance anyway.

She wore what she fucking wanted to.

She sang and laughed so fucking loud.

She ordered the fucking french fries if she fucking wanted them.

She spoke her fucking mind.

She stopped fucking apologizing for the weather and the traffic and everything else that she didn’t fucking have anything to do with.

She stopped fucking saying yes when what she meant was no.

She stopped letting fucking fear dictate what she created. 

She stopped living by the bullshit rules created by people who didn’t see the real her. 

She stopped letting the toxic people into her fucking life boat. It was hers to keep afloat. There was no longer room for anyone who was poking holes in it.

She found the fire inside her veins.

She fell in love with her own beautiful imperfection.

She let go.

She became.

She stopped waiting for her life to send her an invitation to be alive in it.

She stopped waiting.

She woke up. 

She set herself free.

Wear your heels. Or your slippers. Stand on your own two feet.
Let your scars and band-aids show.

@thenakedmomma

We are Family Book Release

WOOHOO! YEEHA! WOOT WOOT!

I am beyond excited that my new book that is celebration of family and our beautiful imperfect selves is here...

"We are Family" is now available on Amazon and is perfect for children of all ages, especially those who are kids at heart.

You can check out a video of me describing it and reading an excerpt of it on my Naked Momma FaceBook page here.

And, as always, thank you for being here. And for reading. And for being rockstars, beautiful, imperfect ones, my favorite kind.

Cheers to you dear family...
xoxo
Katie

Family is Family is Family.