Why the Name?

“There’s No Crying on Sundays”

The name came to me one day while I was babysitting my granddaughter. She was about a year old—not quite a toddler yet—and having a little baby meltdown. Tears, big emotions, the whole thing. And without thinking, I looked at her and said, “There’s no crying on Sundays.”

No idea why I picked Sunday. It just came out.

Since then, I’ve said it a hundred times, sometimes to her, sometimes to myself, and sometimes to no one in particular. It doesn’t really matter what day it is—it’s become my unofficial motto.

The truth is, I’ve had my fair share of “crying on a Sunday” kind of days. You know the ones—when the emotions hit for no clear reason… or for all the reasons. And that phrase, weird as it is, stuck with me. Maybe because it felt like a little rule to hold onto when everything else felt messy. Or maybe because it made me laugh in the middle of the chaos.

It really started to mean something during a season of life when I was driving back and forth between Dallas and Austin—visiting family, going to chemo appointments with my sister. Just me, the road, and a lot of time to think.

And most of the time, it was in those quiet, alone moments that the tears would sneak in. No warning. No big event. Just a sudden wave of emotion that made me ask, “Why now?” And honestly—who knows why that happens? But it does. And it can be frustrating.

Those drives gave me space to wrestle with the hard questions.
Why do we lose the people we love?
Why do they have to leave?
Why does God take the ones who seem extra special—like He couldn’t wait even one more day?

No easy answers. Just me sitting with the questions and hoping that somewhere, somehow, it all means something.

And that’s where this blog comes in. It’s a space for all of it—motherhood, menopause, messy moments, personal growth, career pivots, family chaos, quiet reflections, and hopefully a good laugh here and there.

Because even when life gets heavy, there’s always room for humor, honesty, and maybe… a Sunday without tears.

So, here’s the thing—just because the title is There’s No Crying on Sundays doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to cry. Or that you’re supposed to hold it all in.

Honestly, maybe it’s the opposite.

Cry it out. Feel the things. Do whatever you need to do to move through it—whether it’s on a Monday, a Thursday, or some random afternoon when a song hits you the wrong way.

I’m not even sure why I said it that day—“There’s no crying on Sundays.” Maybe it was Sunday. Maybe it was Wednesday. Maybe I just needed a moment to laugh instead of cry.

I think we all have our ways of dealing—some to show our emotions, some to hide them. I don’t have all the answers. (I’m not sure anyone really does.)

But I’ve found that writing things down helps. Even just getting it out of my head and onto a page brings a little clarity, or at least a little peace.

I call these little moments my thought bubbles. Sometimes they show up at 2 a.m., sometimes in the middle of the day, sometimes while I’m driving with no radio on and way too much on my mind.

This blog is my space to let those bubbles rise. No pressure, no perfection—just whatever’s real in the moment.

A little raw, a little cozy, and always real.