It's Fine. Totally Fine.


I’m calling you out, girl.

You haven’t watched Mompreneur Masterclass. 

I hear you. That’s ok. It’s fine. 

Really, it’s fine.

First of all, if you’re a woman, you know that when another woman says “It’s fine,” she’s lying. And also, it’s not fine. 

The only valid reason for not watching Masterclass is if you are completely and totally content with the way your life as a mompreneur is going, and have no complaints, don’t need improvement in any area of your life and think that every single day is a freaking ray of golden sunshine.

I told you, I’m calling you out.

I KNOW that this isn’t true. Girl, it ain’t true for ANYBODY. Including me, you, my mom and your mom and even those perfect looking moms on Instagram.

Listen, we all need help. We all need someone to tell us that we aren’t alone, and that we aren’t perfect, and that we don’t need to be.

The only true way to become better humans is by WORKING to become better humans. Self improvement, happiness, contentment and education don’t come to us because we sit and let the world pass us by. No, these things come to those who put their own self-care ahead of other things. Ahead of client work, ahead of Bachelorette, ahead of story time.

I know. I just touched a nerve, right?

That’s ok. Do I have your attention now?

When was the last time you put yourself first? The last time you said, I’m going to spend my day working on improving MY OWN LIFE, and not someone else’s?

The ONLY way to be there for our families, for our clients, for our teams, for our God, is to be the best version of ourselves ALL THE TIME. Or at least, as often as we can.

Don’t get me wrong. After two glasses of wine, I’m not the best version of myself. I’m not my best version when I forget to take my anxiety medicine, or when I don’t go to the gym, or when I choose to watch Friends all day instead of the other things I should be doing.

I am not the best version of myself when I tell my husband, “not tonight, babe.” I’m not the best version of myself when I put my toddler down for a nap he may not need because I need some alone time. 

But working daily to be BETTER than we were yesterday is the only way I know how to be my best version. 

Are you sitting here now going, “Well, shit. I’m not working to be a better version of myself at all right now.” Are you still in your sweats and had your husband drop off the kids at school and having your third cup of coffee and thinking about stopping reading this and scrolling Facebook instead?

Told you. Calling you out hardcore this morning.

What if you took the next hour, or your lunch hour, or your hour before bed or the hour that you feel like your husband spends on the toilet (ya…), and watched something that would help you to become a better version of yourself TODAY?

Would you watch it?

I think you should. And not because it’s my Masterclass. But because I want you – beautiful amazing capable Godly momma – to be happier WITH YOURSELF. To feel accomplished, to feel valued and valuable. To not go to bed tonight, dreading the fact that you have to do this all again tomorrow, and already tired. 

I want you to live in joy EVERY SINGLE MOMENT. To eliminate guilt, overwhelm and time loss. I want you to feel better about yourself, TODAY. 

So, you haven’t watched Mompreneur Masterclass.

That’s ok. It’s fine.

Sparkle in Madewell


So, if you know me "but at all!" (cue, Phoebe voice), you know I'm slightly obsessed with Madewell. A majority of my closet is Madewell, Gap or Free People. Occasionally it overpopulates with Target, but eh. Who's doesn't?

But this weekend, my friend, and through the 5th, Madwell is offering 20% off all the favorite summer stuff, and you can bet I made an order.

What was in my cart (and now on its way to my house)? Well, looksie!

Get 20% off through July 5th with code SPARKLER. I mean, I did. So you should, too.


Hustle Season - OUT


Hustle season – OUT.

Thank goodness. It was long. And hard. And so wonderful. But I’ve been tired…

As Adam and I were driving home the other night from dinner, the moment I realized my hustle season had officially ended, he asked me if I could list off all the things that we did during Hustle.

And as I did, I realized that I really needed to write them down, solely so I could look back on this one day and know, “Yes you can, Nicole. Yes you can.”

I kept talking, like normal, to Adam, and when he pulled into the driveway, he looked at me and literally dropped his jaw.

“That’s so much. Even I had no idea you did that much.”

No wonder I’ve been so freakin’ tired.

But as I transition into this season of Rest, I’m feeling so excited and relieved and rested already.

Earlier, during Hustle, I reached a tipping point and almost had a burn out, but made it through. I was so disappointed when that moment hit me, and I realized I wasn’t done with what I wanted to do during my season. I felt angry, disappointed in myself, and tired. I didn’t want this to be over. 

So I kept going, and friend, it was so worth it. Because this time, when I realized I was ending Hustle, I felt HAPPY.

I felt proud and accomplished and relieved. Much better emotions than before.

I am so looking forward to this season of Rest. I have some projects, soul projects, for this season that I’m excited about. Like painting the kitchen cabinets and cooking and reading and moving my office home.

But as I wrap my own brain around all of this, I realize that there is so much I haven’t really shared with all of you, my amazing tribe! 

And while this little list doesn’t contain the entire hustle, it’s the big ones, and I’m so excited to officially share most of them.

We launched The Mompreneur LLC!


And though this is basically just a name for legal purposes, The Mompreneur LLC is going to be doing some pretty amazing stuff. Such as:

The JoJo infant and toddler lounger and cosleeper.


Adam and I have designed a brand new, and pretty perfect, baby sleeper! Designed right here in our living room and inspired by Joey, of course, the JoJo is the baby sleeping secret. Similar in purpose to the renowned DockATot or SnuggleMe, the JoJo is meant to provide a safe and secure, and most importantly effective, place for baby to sleep. More details to drop soon, but this is what you need to know right now:

The JoJo will be launching next month, and will be available on our own site as well as Amazon! 

We will be giving a way a whoooooole bunch of them right off the bat in exchange for some verified reviews on Amazon, so if you want one for free, you should jump on the bandwagon HERE.

The JoJo is a safe and perfect sleeping space for newborns up to over 2 years old. We have had babies on day 1 fall asleep and stay asleep wonderfully, all the way to toddlers (Joey still sleeps in his, and our friend’s 3 year old sleeps in hers too!)

Mompreneur : The Course!


This is my favorite, you guys. Mompreneur : The Course is now available, and I swear, it’s the best course out there. Here’s why:

I made this course myself, from scratch, and from experience. 

I’m working with the first group of mommas now to create the rest of the course to fit exactly what every mompreneurs needs are. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will be left out.

It’s a do-at-your-own-pace, but an entire YEAR’S worth of content, of course, broken down by mompreneur seasons – Hustle, Rest, Growth and Pruning.

I am moving out of the studio in Chico and working from home full time.


I’ve never done this working from home thing, but I’m feeling so at peace about this decision and timing. We are working on making a little office in the house and getting it all together as a serene place for me to do my thing. 

The Mompreneur Podcast

If you have been living under a rock, you may not know this. But nonetheless, it's true! Sweet Rachel and I have a podcast and it's awesome. You should listen every Monday. We're pretty funny if I do say so myself.

So, friends, that is the gist of it. And there’s A LOT of little things within all those things, but these are def the top badass things we’ve been able to do in the last 3 months.

I’m so excited to take you all on this journey with me and my little family! What a total honor.

And in case you’re a skimmer, and looking for quick links, here ya go friend ;)


Boss Moms


Summer Reading List


I am totally the kind of person that goes through stints of reading and TV. And I don’t really like doing both during the same season. And recently, this has been the season of neither, for the most part.

FRIENDS reruns and an occasional classic movie (Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood and Meet the Parents have been on repeat) have graced my TV screen on a low volume for weeks now.

But as I transition out of hustle and into rest, books will come back into play in a major way.

Here’s what’s currently happening for our reading and listening pleasure!

Podcast: For the Love by Jen Hatmaker

I love Jen. She’s my spirit animal. The end.

Paperback: The Perfect Stranger

I read Miranda’s other book, All the Missing Girls, in two days flat. I started this one about a week ago and haven’t picked it up again, but only because of time. I can’t wait to start again.

Business: 4 Hour Work Week

My insurance guy told me I had to read this book when I told him about our new Amazon venture. I know he’s right, so I got the paper version instead of audio and I’m diving in, notes and all.

Audiobook: Girl, Wash Your Face

Rachel is such a great spirit. I started listening from bed this morning and anticipate I’m done by tomorrow.

Parenting: The Awakened Family

This one is a longer investment, and I’m listening on Audible. It’s a 14 hour listen, and there’s so many good tidbits, I’ll have to take my time.


Joey’s reading choices are much simpler, but I have to admit, I like them more ;)

Mighty Mighty Construction Site

Bright Baby Trucks

Bear Snores On (still a fave)

St. Christopher | Jan.4th Series, Part 5


There’s no such thing as moving on.

All these things, they are carried with us.

We step forward. We move toward something else.

But we don’t move on.

What we have had, it’s carried with us to the next thing.

Like baggage we can’t lose.

Like the piece of gum in the bottom of your purse, that you leave there each time it comes up to the surface.

Like the potatoes in the cupboard or the mineral tubs in the barn or the collar from your first dog, still hanging on your review mirror.

We never move on. We just move forward.

The sock doesn’t get thrown away after it’s lost its mate. It stays, in the drawer, with all the other socks, waiting until its day when it will yet again be worn, with another mismatch. 

What I would give, some days, to lose that baggage. To get off the plane and leave the airport, with no obligation to pick up the bags stored underneath.

Let them go round and round and round, until a stranger picks them up and looks for a belonging name.

What I would give, to have not written my name on those bags.

But we do. We do write our name, whether we mean to or not. We make alliances and share blood and tears and sweat and wine. And suddenly, our name is written on their luggage tag, never to be removed.

You can store the blood stained shirt in the drawer. You can wear the locket. You can put it all in a box and put it under the bed.

But someday, somewhere, it will haunt you.

It was a Saturday, and I took it off, and lay it on my nightstand. And I will wonder if something bad will happen that day. 

But my black dress’s neckline does not work with this necklace. And it’s been five years. My neck is stained from the chain, the clasp has been fixed three times, and I waited in the store while they welded it all back together each time. I cannot, would not leave it there.

And later, the dress was off and my face washed and the darkness of yet another night, safe in my home, washed over me, I did not put it back on. 

But I did not move on. It’s baggage now, that I can’t wear. Can’t touch. Can’t fathom throwing away. So it sits. On the dresser. Collecting dust and taking my attention each time I dress.

I pray over it. I pray that St. Christopher will keep me safe in my travels. That what happened to him won’t happen to me. Won’t happen to Adam. Won’t happen to Joey.

And I realize. I will never move on. It’s baggage I carry, though no longer around my neck. But the 14 karat gold pendant, I will forever bare its weight. 

Mompreneur Manifesto


We’ve got dreams. Purpose. Like, wake you up in your sleep-type goals that when you think about them, give you goosies and a mental high similar to that after finishing a badass workout.

These dreams are big. These dreams speak truth about you. These dreams are part of your human existence, your spiritual existence. In fact, they’ve become something that your nightly prayers revolve around.

These dreams, they speak to your children. Your business. Your health. Your home. Your husband. Your dogs and your cooking skills and your capsule wardrobe.

Raise your hand if you’re tired of hearing, “You can’t do it all.”

I call bullshit.

Sure we can, we just might not like it very much. And frankly, we will suck at a lot of things.

Here’s what the proverbial “they” forgot to say:

Striving for perfection and striving for excellence are two VERY separate things.

Sure, we can’t do everything. But why do we want to?

What if we could do everything, but on our own terms? What if we could everything WE WANTED to do, and put the rest to bed?

What if we could do everything we wanted, and do them WELL?

What if we could dismiss all the noise, the chatter, the judgement and the self critique?

What if we could put an end to feeling like we are not enough, and end the ridicule and guilt that comes along with that?

What if someone you loved, trusted and believed told you that this WAS POSSIBLE?

Ya, I dismissed it, too.

“It gets better. Easier. More possible”

Such a common statement that it started to become routine, and with routine comes a loss of value. And with a loss of value comes ignorance.

Mom told me, “I promise it will get better.”

I looked at her, and though it hurts to say now, I said with no hesitation, “We made a huge mistake. My life is over and this is my new normal. My business and my dreams and my goals have to leave now, so I can be a mother.”

I was. So. Wrong.

What if I told you that in fact, everything you dream of, is not only possible, but feasible? Something you can realistically achieve, right now.

Would you believe me?

Why would you. Who am I to tell you?

But here’s what happened.

I believed me.

Because the other option scared the living crap out of me.

There was no way this is what God wanted for me. I have purpose, and only part of that purpose is raising children to be good humans. It’s a big part, but it’s not the only part.

If that was my only purpose, what did I spend the last thirty years doing?! It certainly wasn’t preparing for motherhood. Or wifehood. Or how to correctly clean my house for company or to get a friend’s baby to stop crying.

No, I had spent the last two decades of my life, learning and educating and absorbing everything bit of information I could, while spending every spare minute of my time becoming an excellent entrepreneur.

Why? So I could someday teach, and show, my children how to do the same. And provide for my future family in a way that left me available to them, and under no one’s thumb.

This was my dream.

And motherhood, it seemed, had ruined it.

Our purpose is more. Our goals are more. Our lives are more.

I believed me, and it worked.

I hit the road running, striving for excellence in the things that mattered most. Feeding and loving my newborn baby, making money for my family doing something that made me happy, treating my postpartum depression and living a healthy lifestyle.

None of it was perfect. But never, ever ever, did I settle for less than excellent.

We can’t do it all. But we can do all the things we want, and we can do them well.

What would happen in your life, if you believed that in your deepest darkest places?

Would you do it?

The Story Behind the Podcast


This podcast could be like a real thing. Apparently, it is a real thing. It’s out there, in the world, for all to hear. As of today.

And after listening to it, here’s what I know.

  • I say “like” way too much.
  • I kind of sound like a valley girl, which makes me sad for my friends who have to listen to me everyday. I’m sorry.
  • Rachel is so poised and comfortable in herself and organized. I, however, am not those things.
  • I’m late to everything. Literally everything. I’m not sure why or how this happened. But I am. And frankly, this is really hard for me to swallow.
  • Rachel asks wayyyy better questions than I do. 
  • Never in my whole life have I been more thankful for technology than I am right now.
  • Never in my whole life have I been more terrified of technology than I am right now.

The podcast has always been on the to-do list, for both me and Rachel. And when Rachel told me last year that we should do one, and call it Mompreneur, I about died.

You see, for almost a year, I was really truly the only mompreneur I knew in person, my age. I was InstaFriends with lots, and many had told me their stories of “back when,” but it was pretty lonely there for a while.

And then Rachel got pregnant, and Knox was born just a short year after Joey. And suddenly, I was not alone anymore.

And though we are going through different stages of motherhood currently, it won’t always be that way.

The first few years, we know now, are so volatile. Every day, month and season is different from the last. And I feel honored that I could help Rachel prepare for what’s next, and that Rachel could simply remind me of what had already passed. 

When our boys are older, and maybe going to the ranch together, attending school together, or practicing their fractions together, we will not feel like we are in separate seasons. We will be in the depths of whatever mompreneurism is holding for us right then. And for that, I am excited, and thankful, and so so so honored.

The term Mompreneur for me is so deep. 

Mom. Relationship first. I am a mom first.

Preneur. Wealth. Business. I am a successful business owner second.

This is the premise of my life, and the premise of the upcoming Mompreneur : the Course, but that’s another story altogether. 

Mom. Then Preneur.

And it’s an interesting place to be, let me tell you…

I’ve always been the Preneur first. The entrepreneur. Entering the business world from the ground up. Having ideas, running with them, making them matter.

And then I became a mom. And then Mom came first. And it was still this idea, this sprint to a finish line, but the finish line doesn’t exist. The race, the hustle, the steady jog to the end never actually ends. Because it’s motherhood. And we can’t ever, not ever, turn that off.

So yes. Mom. Then Preneur. 

I had questions. Questions like, how do I prepare for motherhood as an entrepreneur? Is there such thing as maternity leave? How do I help my husband prepare? How do I GET PAID when I don’t work? I have a service based business, but what happens when I can’t serve my clients? These are real questions, questions when you are expecting and have prepared but then suddenly realize that you haven’t so much prepared as idealized, dreamt or pretended to be ready.

And then you’re in the depths of it. Breast-feeding and nipple cream and hemorrhoids and stitches down THERE are real things, that MATTER. And friends MATTER. Even more than your mom might at that moment. Though we all know that mom matters. Big time.

So who is going to tell us? Who is going to help us? I needed someone to help me. Rachel needed someone to help her. And we had these talks, these text exchanges, that needed to be released to the world.

Things about songs by the Muppets that are making us cry and which iPhone apps I actually need and how to tie a Moby Wrap.

Things like what it felt like to birth a child one way, or another way. What it was like to have sex the first time. What it was like to have severe depression, and why we wanted to stay in it for just a little bit longer.

Things like how we want to go back to work, how we feel ok about leaving our child at daycare, or don’t. Things about how we miss our friends or freedom or WINE. 

Things that are taboo to say. Things that are hard to talk about. Things that go unsaid because it’s scary and vulnerable and TOO real to share. 

We are human, women, and mothers. And what are we going to say to our children when they ask us questions about their penis or the voices they may or may not be able to hear, or JESUS?! How will we choose to respond.

I will respond with the truth. Unfiltered, unafraid. And it’s time we did that for each other too, outside of the comfort of our nursery nursing chair. It’s time tears were shed and laughs were shared somewhere other than our dinner tables. Because we can. And you, momma, deserve it. And so do we.


Mother's Day

Mother's Day.jpg

There’s a lot of really amazing moms kicking butt out there. I mean, almost a third of the world’s population is who I’m talking about. Moms in general, kick butt.

But in honor of Mothers’ Day fast approaching, I have rounded up so of my most favorite mommas to follow on Instagram.

I get asked all the time who I recommend for following along, for an assortment of reasons:

  • Momma mindset
  • Productivity and balance
  • Biz boss and momma workflow
  • Fashion and lifestyle
  • And so many more

But just a few of my favorite mommas on IG have so much more to offer than just those things. These mommas are hardcore dedicated, both to their craft and their offspring. Dedicated to their spouses and their families. Dedicated to building a community of like-minded friends instead of loyal followers.

These mommas are just a few of the many that I strive to emulate, imitate and eventually share life with.

Felica Allen

Reasons I love her: this boy mom is all things real. Felicia is the marketing director for Wild Bird, those amazing slings we all wear. But more than that, she’s a baby wearing lover, and advocate. Most of all, she has recommended some of the best books ever for parenting to me, and I love that we share a similar, if not identical, view of boy parenting.

Reasons you should follow her: the adventures she goes on with her boys, gorgeousness that is her life.

My favorite thing she’s said/shown/storied: Felicia shared Janet Lansbury with me, and for that, I am forever grateful.

Simply Sadie Jane

Reasons I love her: Oh em gee, Sadie is so freakin’ funny. Mom to three, the newest being baby Henry who is so chunky I just die. 

Reasons you should follow her: candy suggestions, health and fitness inspiration, realness

My favorite thing she’s said/shown/storied: watch the Henry Eats highlight reel in her IG

Chrissy J Powers

Reasons I love her: Chrissy’s honesty about life is unreal. Barely anything is filtered, she isn’t afraid to be real in any and all situations. All the while, her feed is gorgeous to look at and I wake up in the morning excited to see what she’s storied from the night before.

Reasons you should follow her: True biz boss momma. Mom to two boys and a girl on the way, and she has a killer business consulting, coaching and marketing. 

My favorite thing she’s said/shown/storied: Her gender reveal story for their baby girl. She and her husband could not wait until 20 weeks, so they had the early blood test and her reaction is so priceless. I cried for a whole day about it.

Rachel Hollis

Reasons I love her: Rachel took me a minute. She’s a lot to handle. And then I realized, that she’s basically me. She’s author and mom and big biz boss. I aspire to be her, like ASAP. 

Reasons you should follow her: Motivation. Real life moments and solutions. Because she’s been there and done it and if you follow her advice, you’ll make it, too.

My favorite thing she’s said/shown/storied: When Girl, Wash Your Face went onto the NY Bestseller list. It’s been there for three weeks, but the first day it did, her story and reaction was the most unfiltered, raw real you’ve ever seen. A little girl’s dream come true.

Against All Grain

Reasons I love her: My gosh, this girl is gorgeous. So are her kids and so is her husband. But that’s not why I love her. I love Danielle because she puts herself and her family in front of everything else. Author, blogger and basically a celebrity, Danielle still makes herself so grounded and accessible. 

Reasons you should follow her: Even if you’re not into cooking/recipes, she’s worth a follow. 

My favorite thing she’s said/shown/storied: The shooting of her latest cookbook. It was astonishing. 

Jen Hatmaker

Reasons I love her: Do I really even need to say? If you’re not following Jen, you live under a rock. Jen is just, goals. The end. 

Reasons you should follow her: Her Facebook posts are pure gold. 

My favorite thing she’s said/shown/storied: Her text conversation with Glennon Doyle about her girl going off to college 700 miles away, stating that she made a mistake in raising her daughter to be self-sufficient and independent. She should have taught her nothing and made her stay home forever. It’s the best. 

Anelise Salvo

Reasons I love her: Well, I know Anelise personally, so I’m a little biased, but I love her because she’s so raw. She’s a designer, like me, and does so by all means necessary while also being Mom of the Year. 

Reasons you should follow her: She and her husband spend two seasons a year in different places - one season traveling and the other in Tahoe. Their adventures are the most amazing you’ll find. 

My favorite thing she’s said/shown/storied: Last year, her and her husband and newborn baby boy, Costa, lived out of a van on the other side of the continent. She ran her design business, and they LIVED IN A VAN. It was the most amazing adventure I’ve ever seen. 

Shay Cochrane

Reasons I love her: Shay is queen. Shay works two days a week, and moms/wifes/lives full time the other days. I mean, goals. Queen of styled flat lays and all things pretty. 

Reasons you should follow her: Quirky authentic motherhood of two girls, all the while living in a gorgeous house with a hunk husband who also kicks butt in business. Also, she takes amazing photos. 

My favorite thing she’s said/shown/storied: I love her BTS of her photoshoots. She shares them all the time, and I’m sucked in every time. 


Target the essentials.jpg

Well. If I'm honest, 

I didn't have a post scheduled for this week. Not on purpose. For some reason it just got lost.

Next week is exciting. Last week was awesome. I'm not sure where this week ended up.

But nonetheless. After texting all the besties and asking, "What do you want to see on the blog this week?" the answer was pretty unanimous. 

"Can you tell us what you've been buying at Target, please?"

Ok, yea, totally. Not sure why y'all want to see it here. We could just go to Target together and get coffee after!

But, alas. Here's what I think y'all should head to Target to grab.


Hustle Season


This blog is supposed to be about the season of hustle, and how to manage it while also being a mom and so many other roles I currently play.

But listen.

It’s the night before this post is supposed to go live. And I’m sitting here working to upload and match a photo and craft my IG caption and tweet and YouTube snippet. And I just can’t. Because I’m sitting here, crying.

God, I feel like such a girl. Like, whoa, pull it together. Your husband doesn’t cry, slouched over on the floor outside your over-tired toddler’s bedroom door while he complains that he’s not ready for bed.

And now, I just heard my toddler drop his binky on the floor, which means I’m going to have to stop mid-writing to go and soothe him and give him his binky back and start this process ALL. OVER. AGAIN.

Hold please.

Ok, now that he’s asleep, finally.

I’m in a season of major hustle. I’ve got some crazy dreams that need executing NOW. Not later. And so, was born about three weeks ago, my season of hustle.

I know this season is temporary, and it took me a long time to embrace the hustle season for this reason ­– it will fade. But as I grow, as a mom and an adult and a wife and a believer, I have learned to understand that we go through phases, just as our toddlers do. Nothing lasts. And if we don’t embrace where we are RIGHT NOW, it will pass us by.

We can either take advantage of the moment, or we can wait for the next.

I do not have time to wait. I got sheez to do.

Let’s clarify a few things:

  1. One. I am referring to hustle as an emotional state of mind. The physical interpretation of hustle means that you are exerting yourself beyond your normal rate of speed, intensity and strength. I am implying that you are EMOTIONALLY doing this. That your brain, heart and soul are working hard, running at an intense pace and moving fast.
  2. Two. A season of hustle means nothing unless it’s fueled by passion.
  3. Three. Once in the depths of a hustle season, there is no need to explain it to others. Your actions have spoken for themselves, and very rarely is anyone wondering why you’re extra tired, extra snippy or extra late to literally everything. They know, you’re hustling, and they don’t need to ask why.

The point.

Hustling when you’re a mom (or dad), a business owner, and a cognitive human being means that you have other responsibilities that outperform your desire to hustle.

Because kids get sick. Bills are still due. And we all know that your skin needs to be moisturized, girl. Now is not the time to be skimping on the undereye cream.

How. How are we supposed to do this? How are we supposed to hustle without the end result being us, sick and bedridden and wondering why we pushed ourselves too hard and why our kids are revolting against us as we try and feed them healthy food?

How. This is a great question.

The season of hustle comes with many a sacrifice, but it also means that we can live a little more intentionally.

Things that can wait in a season of hustle:


 By the end of your emotional hustle, your house will look like a bomb went off. Your husband will be asking you why there are no more spoons, and why the kids’ milk has soured in the fridge. This is ok, because as soon as your hustle ends, which it will, you will throw out the old milk and the spoons will get washed. And in the meantime, your kids can, and will, drink water instead and eat their cereal with their hands, albeit quite messy. And that mess, you will clean up another time.

Social time

Sorry, friends. Ain’t got no emotional energy to give your right now. This is literally the text I send my group of friends in our group text when I hit a hustle season. They get it. They know. And they also happen to show up and clean up my kids’ cereal mess when it deems I’ve gone a little too far.

Leisure time

This is what Hulu was made for. I firmly believe that Hulu was invented for people like me. I have no time to watch Grey’s when I’m in hustle mode. None. But thanks to Hulu, when I’ve exited my tunnel of hustle, my playlist is waiting for me when I can’t sleep at 3 am, like a deacon of reward for many a week spent neglecting my DVR.

Wife time

Yes, wife time. You can’t neglect Mom time (see below), but wife time can wait. You see, your husband is an adult (I hope), and he will understand when you need to step back for a bit. So long as it’s clear that this is a season, not a permanent fixture, your husband will be likely pretty supportive of a more productive and prosperous future that you are currently hustling for. With that comes more dinners by dad, a lot less bedtime fun, and a substantial amount of bedtimes brought to you by Chuggington.

The gym

For most, like me, the regular gym routine is paramount. I have big gym goals, very similar to my business goals in intensity. However, my gym goals don’t make me money. Or further my passion for helping others in their businesses. Right now anyway. So when I enter a season of hustle, sometimes my gym routine takes a hit. And though it’s really hard to swallow, I know that I will find my way back when there is an opening. In the meantime, I dial down my meals, drink a ton of water and WALK EVERYWHERE. The more you do, the more you gain, right?


I realize I may get heat for this. But since my current season of hustle fell smack dab in the middle of tax season, and I was not prepared for either, I casually asked my CPA to file an extension for me. Very little harm and no fowl, and I get to put filing my taxes on another month’s to-do list. I was prepared, nonetheless, but my hustle took priority over spending a day or two getting my taxes together to send to my CPA and then worry about what I may or may not owe. This is something that can wait until after my hustle is over and I have time and space to digest.

Things that can’t wait in a season of hustle:

Dinner with your family

I don’t care if you order takeout, eat from a freezer or make the time to cook each night, but dinner is not negotiable. Many times, I will literally turn around from my desk and eat my dinner at the table with my family and turn right back around. But, I never turned around DURING dinner. The fact that I know this is temporary is most important. My son won’t remember the times I hurried to finish dinner, but he will remember that I ate dinner with him, albeit fast.


If you’re tired, sleep. The end.


This is my biggest fault. I don’t eat when or as often as I should. And when I’m in a hustle, it’s even worse. And when I’m not gymming because I’m in a hustle, it’s even worse. Food CANNOT WAIT. Feed yourself. And feed yourself well. If you’re hustling a much as I think you are, you need more than jelly beans and wine to sustain you. Though, I have launched many an idea on those two substances alone, I will still claim that getting some green juice and a cheese stick is probably a good idea.

Paying client work

Payday than what you’re celebrating now, but trust me, it takes a long time and a wishful dream to convince PG&E that you’ll pay them when your hustle season is over. And your hustle season is a “moo point” if you can’t sell it to anybody in the end because you never followed through on the job they paid your for to begin with.

Mom time

You cannot mom and work in the same moment. And if you think that you do, you’re doing it wrong. If you are momming and working simultaneously,  you’re not putting your heart and soul into either. Mom time cannot and will not wait. Your baby needs you. Right now. Not later. Right. Now.

Ok, ok. But really. How in the heck do you make these decisions on the go?!

I’m going to help you. After a multitude of hustle seasons lately, I decided to needed something to help me make almost split second decisions on how to proceed in my hustle or life. Alas, the hustle flowchart. And like my “should I wash my hair today” flowchart, this one hangs prominently on my bathroom mirror and is used almost daily during a season of hustle.


I hope you print and hand and use and share, because I promise it will help you make those tough choices we hustlers must make.


Fabletics + A Momma Who Lifts


*This post is sponsored by Fabletics. All opinions are my own.

After I had a baby, I wore athletic wear most every day, like most new moms. I always made sure my top was loose and my leggings went high. Get my tummy tucked back up where it’s supposed to be and leave room for a nursing babe.

Until very recently, I never really cared about how that athletic wear looked, or acted, other than keeping my tummy tight.

But now, I’m able to keep my athletic wear where it is supposed to be – doing athletic things. Let me say this: This is an honor. Never in my life did I think I would be here, caring about if my bottoms were squat proof or if my sports bras cut into my lats or not.

However, now I do care.


This spring, I’ve been able to receive and review some Fabletics athletic wear. And let me tell you two things about this:

  1. Really?! Fabletics cares about me?! Let me just pinch myself and act like I’m only one degree of separation from meeting Kate Hudson.
  2. I’m kind of sold. Gimme more.

Coming from the girl who wears mostly black and white and navy most days, these floral print leggings were kind of a shocker, but as soon as I put them on, I was looking in the mirror and literally “hot damning” myself. I can pull these off. And if I can, and walk out in public with them, so can you. I swear.

And also. I need to go find a good yoga class so I can show off this sports bra. I did a little review HERE of that one, and though it’s less supportive than my other sports bras, I admit I’ve worn it almost every workout. It’s that comfy.

So, you’ll see me rocking these spring flings, and for sure some more of the Fabletics wear, all the time.


Favorite things about these leggings:

Totally squat proof! I know, they’re even white!

So, so soft.

Thick but very breathable.

High rise is snug at the waist but looser on the rise, keeping everything in but not cutting into my ribcage or waist.

Perfect rise on me (5’7”), coming just at my bellybutton. Also the perfect length.

Can we talk about this print? OMG, next time I’m wearing my fluffy pink sweater and putting a bow in my hair and calling myself Spring.

Get two pairs of these (and any of the other) amazing leggings for $24 when you join Fabletics’ flexible VIP membership program. Seriously. Do it. They are the best – go here for the deal.

Get my leggings right HERE




“Should we be talking about organ donation?”

He stated that it was probably a little premature, but that he appreciated that I had the courage to bring it up.

Megan, our nurse that day, who had walked us back to this room to meet the doctor, had left already. I watched her as she gracefully helped my mom pull out a chair and sit down, she touched the doctor’s shoulder, glanced at my dad at slid through the barely open door.

As if from out of thin air, she reappeared, now half sitting on the table against the wall, with an entire pack of tissues in her left hand.

Ugh, the tissues. It still makes no sense to me how a hospital can carry such terrible tissues. The boxes are extra small, and the tissues, though thick, are the texture of sandpaper.

But she had no tears. Not yet, anyway.

The doctor was casual, just as he was 6 days prior in the emergency room. One ankle crossed over the other leg’s knee, worn out running shoes and a strong 5 o’clock shadow on his chin and cheeks.

His hair, wild long and gray, was being combed through his fingers, his expensive watch glistened in the fluorescent light, making my involuntarily follow the glimmer on the wall beside me.

“But what if something goes wrong?” My mom’s voice was shaky, of course, but her face was stern. Lips pursed and fingers intertwined over her crossed knees.

This was why we were even having this conversation. It was implied that something would go wrong.

The ventilator had been working hard for him for the last 6 days, and a week with a tube down your trachea is the longest a human can stand before it begins to cause a problem.

Whatever that problem was, I envisioned, seemed so incredibly minor compared to the other things we were classifying as “problems.” I stumbled with the idea of us spending more time on a decision about his throat than decisions about his brain.

Nonetheless, here we were. In this room. My dad, still silent, my mom, stern, and me. I stood, my gaze going from the doctor and back to Megan, who finally caught my stare and never let go.

“What would you do if it were your child, doctor?”

I imagine that doctors hate this question.

In fact, just a few weeks ago, I asked him. If he remembered my dad asking this question.

His eyes fell to the floor, then to the wall beside us. Blank and yellow, the same walls we walked that day back five years ago to this very room. “I do, actually. And I had an answer, but it wasn’t the one you wanted to hear.

“Your dad is one of the most real people I have ever had to work with. I was not afraid to tell him the truth, because not only was he demanding it, but you all needed to hear it.”

The truth was this: that he may not make it through the simple surgery of performing a tracheotomy. The simple act of laying him flat could be catastrophic, nevermind the transportation of him to the OR from his quiet, dark ICU room.

He had been responding heavily to noise. We kept the door closed tightly, and the room dark. We whispered when bedside, wore slippers and socks and turned off all the beeping machines. Silence, for him, was the best medicine.

This conversation was “the conversation.” The one you talk about with your family when you are working on writing your will, or after a glass or two of wine and someone asks you where you’d like to spend eternity.

It’s the conversation you have with yourself at 16 when deciding whether to put the little pink organ donation sticker on your driver’s license or not.

You probably, in your entire life, spend less time thinking about this conversation than the 5 minutes we spent actually having it.

How much longer did we want to wait? How much longer could we wait? How much longer were we WILLING to wait?

You cannot answer these questions in a hypothetical situation. You can chat about it with your lawyer all you want, making sure the right person will be appointed to make this decision for you. But it won’t be the right answer. It never is.

There’s a magic number in there somewhere, between WANT and CAN and WILL.

Our magic number was 11. Eleven days.

Come to think of it, wasn't that his motocross number?

ErgoBaby 180 Stroller GIVEAWAY + Review


There is no other ‘hood I would rather be a part of than motherhood. I am so blessed that not only do I get to enjoy the little moments of motherhood with my baby boy, but I actually get to share so many things with all my other ‘hoods – like the Insta-hood!

Speaking of ‘hoods, how about the fact that cruising through my own little hood is one of our most favorite things to do.

Joey spends a lot of time in the stroller, strolling through our neighborhood with the girls, trekking through the gravel to the park, and most weekends we are at the farmers’ market; getting that stroller quite sticky with fresh persimmons and all the berries we can stuff in our mouths.

And just like our babywearing obsession, Ergo has yet again appeased my soul and my love for ease of mommyhood.

The new Ergo 180 stroller is just as fab as our favorite carrier, this one (in case you missed it), and frankly, I’ll be getting myself one of these babies if and when baby number two comes someday. Maybe even if baby number two doesn’t come. It’s that great.

But for now, this turnkey, super modern and ultra-awesome stroller is going to one of you, yes you, in what is sure to be the best Easter basket a momma ever did see.


Ok, ok, but what makes this stroller so great? Well, let me tell you, momma!

It’s crazy lightweight.

I can carry this things with one arm, and still have Joey in the other. Oh, also, I can carry it down the stairs and also hold things in my other hand. I’m not kidding. It’s so light.

All four wheels lock, two ways, individually.

Want to walk the straight line? No prob. Want all the movement? No prob. Want to lock the wheel closest to your foot without walking around the back? No prob. Want something in between all these options? Ok, it’s got that covered, too.

Face your baby, or don’t (Joey’s preferred way to walk). Or switch.

With major ease, too.

Tall? Short?

Doesn’t matter. It adjusts for everyone.

Adjustable seat recline.

The only thing that isn’t as easy as my Uppababy, but still crazy simple.

The sun shade is the coolest thing ever.

It can go a little, a lot, or All. The. Freaking. Way. Down. This was also Joey’s preferred way to walk, apparently. He HATES the sun in his face, and this sun shade is made for a baby like Joey.

Cleaning made slick.

Just unsnap it, throw the seat in the wash, or spray with a hose as I would do, and viola. Clean without the hassle.

And the winner is – ONE HANDED FOLD UP.

Pull on the handle in the middle. I’m not kidding. It folds in half and then you can carry it with the handle. I’ve been folding it up just for fun because it’s so incredible. Like whaaaat?!

I have to be honest, I never thought I would find a stroller I love more than my Uppababy one. I adore my Uppababy stroller and carseat and bassinet combo. But this thing, well, I would switch in a heartbeat. I’m obsessed.

And so, I’m stoked to handing this cadillac off to a momma who needs it. Because God knows we could all use a little more ease in our mommyhood season.

Without further ado, I am stuffing this stroller box with not only this brand spanking new (minus a few Joey Cheerios from the photoshoot) Ergo 180 stroller but also whole bunch of other new momma goodies from some of my other favorite mommas to give one of YOU the Easter basket of a lifetime.

But how do you win? Super easy.


Head on over to my Instagram and enter on the post with this photo. Just follow the loop of mommas, and get yourself the chance to win:

Be sure to leave these other mommas some love, too.

*This giveaway is not sponsored by Instagram or any other party.

**This post does contain affiliate links and I may be compensated from the brand retailers. However, all opinions, photos and copy are my own. Thanks for supporting me and the brands I love!

Also, in case you missed it for some reason, there's more giveaways being announced over on the email list. You can get more info by joining here!

Itty Bitty Moments

The Moments.jpg

You know those days, when you drive for hours and hours, only to spend a mere 15 minutes at your destination, and then you head back?

Growing up, and now as an adult, I tend to do a lot of this. Time in the car doesn't scare me. In fact, I really enjoy car time. Alone, with Joey, or as a whole family, car rides contain some of my fondest memories, and I always look forward to the trip.

What's even more meaningful than the car ride, though, is what happens in the moments you step out of the car for a stretch, or a snack, or a quick photo op. 

Not long ago, before we were married and really truly adults, Adam and used to take itty bitty road trips for the day, mostly to the snow. We'd just drive, and take photos, and marvel at the sites, and eat jerky and M&Ms in the car together. 

So last week, we both had an afternoon with little on our plates, so we loaded up Joey and all the snacks and headed for a drive to the snow. We had no intention of some major snow play,  no sleds or snow gear or mittens or firewood. We had muck boots and each other, and we drove until we literally could not go any further.

We literally oohed and aahed at the views. It's been so long since we've seen as much snow as there was that day, and we were giddy with anticipation of all this snow melting and heading towards our beloved river. 

Then we stopped, and it was during this itty bitty moment that these photos were captured. However, the entire day was simply magical. 

Side note – Joey isn't a huge deep snow fan, as he sunk to his chest and was blinded by the bright white that now encompassed him. But, snowballs seemed to make that much better and so we continued to tromp through and hit Daddy with a good amount of very wet mounds of white fluff.

Itty bitty moments, in the freezing cold and middle of nowhere, for a mere 15 minute snow fight. Magic. Pure magic.

Also, you guys... these itty bitty moments are ones I really really want to keep. So we've been having things printed through Artifact Uprising and LOVING IT. These little Insta books are so awesome – Joey loves to flip through them and see photos of himself. Anyway, here are some of our faves and we hope you start printing your itty bitty memories, too.

Get to know Artifact Uprising: this Denver-based custom photo goods company thoughtfully sources materials to create photo books, wall art, and other gift items. 


Instagram Friendly Books

Ideal for moving photos off your device and into your life, these soft cover books tout 100% recycled interior pages and a textured, matte cover.



Wood Block Photo Prints

This rotating art display features 12 of your favorite photos set in a wood block, comprised of reclaimed pine from the Colorado forests. Perfect as a gift or to enjoy year-round, it's the ideal addition to a well-dressed desk.



Baby Book 

The Story of You is an interactive photo journal that encourages parents to document their child's days in a meaningful way. Knowing timelines and little ones don't always mix, they've placed a focus on the everyday moments that matter most. Each book purchase includes a pen, photo adhesive, and code to create a complimentary set of Everyday Books to get you started.


The Green Cardigan

The Green Cardigan.jpg

For some reason it’s easy for me to remember what I wore in these moments.

On this particular day, I was wearing these yoga pants from Target. They went up high on my waist and squeezed me tight. I remember because it was the umpteenth day in a row I had worn them. I was too tired to do laundry, and the sitting around in the ICU waiting room brought lots of sugary treats from the church congregation and certainly no days at the gym.

I was also wearing my green knitted cardigan. Adam calls it my grandma sweater. It’s my favorite.

I still own both these pieces of clothing.

And don’t tell Adam this, but I haven’t washed the green cardigan yet. To this day, it sits, folded on the top shelf of my closet, worn only on the days that comfort and tears are at the forefront of my emotional threshold.

Sometimes I can hear the diesel truck engine. A Ford. I can feel myself sliding out of my own seat-warmed driver’s side of my car. I can imagine painting my own home white with navy trim one day. But then I remember. And realize that I will never paint my house white with navy trim, because then I’d be back, in that parking spot in a cute neighborhood adjacent to the hospital, standing in the middle of the street. Crying. In front of the cute white house with navy trim. In my green cardigan.

Nobody could go to work. Everyone that tried, at some point or another, ended up back in those extremely stiff, faux leather seats with wooden arm rests in that ICU waiting room. What would start as an everyday morning would end late, walking from the elevator that smelled of marijuana to your car, parked somewhere blocks away, in the rain. Always in the dark.

From where we sat, there were no windows. Windows and sunlight were reserved for patients. Though, it really doesn’t seem to make sense. If the patient is asleep, and will be for weeks, maybe their families would like the window seat. They were going to sleep through the daylight anyway.

What started as a normal day for many was now a new normal for us.

It had been five days. No major news. Not out of the woods. And now, we knew, day five would be the hardest. But most could not sit for another day or more. Life was waiting beyond those tiled floors and sterile glass doors.

It was my birthday.

Not that it mattered. Not to me, anyway.

Pat and Tommy and Peter and David and Randy had all gone back to work. To their families. To their lives. All out of town. Where their lives were led and grown and nurtured and fostered and built.

These were my people. My parents when I didn’t have my own. My dad’s best friends, my other sets of families that took care of me my entire life.

Of course, they called. So often. More often than I could answer the phone. And because I was the sister, the daughter, it was my duty to keep the public informed. The extended family. The community.

It was my phone that rang and beeped and dinged all day. And I did my best to oblige.

It was my birthday. I woke up to an empty house. The first day in five days it had been empty in the morning. The street had been lined with grandparents’ trailers and RVs, now driven back to their own driveways. My couches and air mattresses and Tony’s bed had been occupied, and my kitchen full of cereal pouring and coffee sipping when I would awaken. All of us to quickly caravan the three blocks to the Neuro ICU before shift change at 7:30 am.

But not that morning. I had slept. Longer than I wanted. And when I woke, it was panic.

Hence, the yoga pants and cardigan, yet again.

I parked. I hesitated to get out of my car. It was sunny, and I recall the street as it glimmered. Like it was still cold and wet, and the sun was so far away that it could not even warm the most warmable parts of the town. The black asphalt. The bare parking space I neglected to see. The white house’s lawn that shimmered with dew.

My feet moved slowly. And it felt like I was trying to ice skate on dirt. The shoes meant for gliding but the surface just sucking me down instead.

It was my birthday. And he might die today. I hated that it was my birthday.

If you are from the country, like dirt road country, you know that each diesel engine makes a very distinct diesel sound. Adam drove Dodges. Always and forever. I could always pick his truck out of a stream of vehicles on the highway, hear it from three miles away. Even Henry the dog would jump at the sound, before I could even register that it was in fact him. Dodges are a deep, roaring, muffled sound. Like a dragon trying to growl while muffled with a sock. Fords, however, whistle. And if you’re keen and in tune with the boys that drove these trucks, you could differentiate in a split second.

This was a Ford. My heart melted just a little. A little more than it should have. A Dodge would have meant it was Adam. Coming to bring me a birthday coffee or sweep me off my feet for breakfast in another town where nobody knew who I was. But it wasn’t a Dodge. And it wasn’t him.

No, it was a whistle that could have woke neighbors. A whistle that shifted. Down. Down as in slowing down.

And then it stopped.

I was standing center stage. Middle of the street. I had frozen, somewhere between my car and the other side. Listening to the diesel engine. Focusing on the shift from third to second, and then to neutral.

I looked up to see their faces staring at me. The chrome of the bumper in line with my hips. Me facing the passenger side door, window higher than my line of site, but the faces stung my vision.

The passenger door opened with a vengeance. The whistle of the truck continued as arms larger than my own but smaller than my father’s embraced me.

Tommy’s five-day old scruff rubbed my hair, pulling my blonde unwashed strands from their ponytail, his scent of cigarettes and powdered donuts washed over me like a wave would if I had walked into the ocean with no intention of turning around.

Pat drove his truck away faster than a normal circumstance would have required, surely to find a parking spot with room for 6 tires and as close as possible. And Tommy stood there, holding me. In the middle of the street in the Chico avenues.

I don’t know if they came for me. Or for him. Or for my dad. Or for themselves. But it didn’t matter. They were there. And so was I. Disconnected by 200 miles in the everyday. Communication via text or the occasional deep thoughts in the duck blind.

But today. On the day it mattered, neither of them could go to work. So instead they drove. And found me. In the middle of the road. Trying to ice skate on dirt.

You see, I can’t wash that cardigan. That would mean that the smell of Tommy’s cigarettes and the sound of Pat’s truck would be washed out of it. That could never happen. It was the only moment that was mine for months and months, maybe years. The only moment that I can hold in my hands, hold to my face and breath in.

He didn’t die that day.

the Crafted Manifesto

Why it exists.jpg



Businesses are inundated.

Buy this! Download this! You need a logo, a brand! Get your books right and invest in this and get a line of credit!

Whatever the information is, it’s being blasted at us from every angle.

But here’s the real deal. We want to get moving, and be successful, NOW. Not in a year. Not down the road. TODAY. And so, we do our research and decide where our time and money is best spent, because we only have a little bit to get this thing off the ground.

Part of that initial spending is usually a logo. Or if you’re in the lingo, a brand. And we decide how much money, and time, we can realistically spend on it.

Let’s be honest. That’s not a lot. We are putting in so much up-front work for our business, and forking out thousands of dollars and months’ worth of time to design a logo, with a stranger, that may or may not be relevant in a year, is not only daunting, but unbearable.

The reality is this:

Businesses are being held back and they don’t even know it. We are settling for “good enough” instead of “badass.” We are branding ourselves as startups when we start, and we stay that way until we aren’t a startup anymore.

What if we did this:

Brand ourselves as we see ourselves – successful, talented, smart and downright brave. We are ambitious and kind and knowledgeable.

We are not “good enough,” we are GREAT. We are doing something amazing, and our brand should tell that story.

This is the CRAFTED manifesto. To graciously and generously give businesses a shot, right out of the gate. To get them moving, like right now, with something great.

CRAFTED is not just a brand selling brands. It is a girl with a talent and a passion, similar to yours, that wants so badly for all us to be successful TODAY.

I cannot wait to see these brands out in the wild, doing what they were meant to do, and meant to do well.

xoxo for now, my friend!


Crafted | Launching March 1


Last week, we talked about brand storytelling.

Well, I talked about brand storytelling. And you probably read about it, and then probably signed up to receive a free Brand Audit.

*wink wink*

And then you were left wondering what the heck that was all about...

I'm here to tell you a few things, friend.

Here is what we know:

  • You, and your business, are unique, and should be portrayed as such.
  • Your brand should be the catapult of your story.
  • Your budget, and your time, aren’t unlimited.
  • The brand for your business should be yours and yours alone.
  • Your personality, business essence and vision are aspects of your brand that need to be apparent upon first glance.
  • Upscale, professional branding assets are hard to find, harder to pay for, and even harder to communicate.

Overwhelmed yet?

Don’t be. I got you.

This week, Nicole&Co. is launching the first 8 brands of Crafted.


Crafted by Nicole & Co. is an array of upscale branding assets, carefully curated for businesses like yours that want to get moving, like right now.

I’m so excited to be offering you, yes you, unique and wonderful you, the brand you have been searching for.

The Nitty Gritty:

  • Each brand featured is only sold ONCE – it and its parts will never be sold again.
  • Each brand is original, and carefully crafted by Nicole of Nicole&Co. herself.
  • Brands include a primary logo, secondary logo, brand mark and a comprehensive brand book with color palette, typefaces and tips and tricks for using your brand.
  • Each brand’s elements (verbiage and type content) are changeable BY YOU, the new brand owner.
  • Once purchased, your brand can be in your hands, literally, with a click of a button.
  • Only 8 brands will be released each quarter, so if you don’t see one that fits you perfectly, stay tuned.

Crafted brands are launching THIS THURSDAY, March 1st at 9 am PST, and will be discounted for a super limited time. More information coming soon, but in the meantime

Not quite ready to dive into a brand new visual identity, but definitely want to dive deeper into your storytelling?

Totally. Brand strategy can feel so abstract and daunting. Let’s bridge that gap together.

Nicole’s brand strategy sessions are focused on further understanding your brand's story, what your next steps should be, and tangible steps to communicate your WHY!


Name *