Welcome to Wellspring Drive
Serial overthinker drags readers along for the ride—sharing stories of humility, humanity, and purpose—fueled by humor, caffeine, and chaos.
Drivers & Detours
Traumatized by School Supplies
I was once delighted to go back-to-school shopping with my girl twins. You know the ones; where one is often dressed in purple and the other pink so we don’t confuse them early on. Just one of the many laws of the universe I did not create. Even as a former teacher, I...
You Can’t Be An “Us” Without This Stuff
Not long ago, I was at dinner with my kids and their college friends. (Yes, I got invited once!) I thought I’d stir the pot a bit and said, “Name one thing your friend has or does that drives you nuts.” Without missing a beat, each one had an answer:“Your ugly...
Where The Whapping Trees Are
Just another day driving the kids from thing to thing. Walmart, Walgreens, gas, soccer, contemplating vacations we can’t afford, the odd noise the engine’s making, talking myself into buying dinner out even though I know it’s healthier if I cook but who am I kidding I...
Happy, Messy Mother’s Day
In honor of Mother’s Day, I share this little beauty: no big bows and neat IKEA furniture here. To everyone else, I was/still am a crummy housekeeper. While true, what I see: my kids getting along playing a new game courtesy of paying the electric bill a little late....
When You Dance With People You Don’t Even Know
Sea Shell Stage, Hampton Beach, N.H. I wish I could remember the song that was playing. I’ll have to go through my journals, find the name of it, and write another post to tell you what it was.For now though, I was there one summer evening with three of our kids; the...
I’m Done Trading Sex for French Fries. Really. I am This Time!
Many of you will lie to yourselves and disagree with me on this but that restaurant you just thought of when I said fries – the one that I’m talking about but won’t name but we all know who I mean - really does have amazing fries. Despite disparaging reports...
Holding Hands with Edna
I was at the mailbox one day when my neighbor Edna, my older Filipino friend, pulled up alongside me in her car. As I leaned on the doorframe to talk, Edna took my hand and asked me about my mom. I found it kind of odd at first. As a grown woman, few hold my hand...