This is the place where once a week we take the chance to just write, and not worry if it’s just right or not.

For five minutes flat.

Here’s how the game works: you simply stop, drop and write. Set your words free. Don’t edit them, don’t fret over them, don’t try to make them perfect.

That’s how Five Minute Friday was born. Want to play? It’s fun. And it’s never too late to link up. Also? The awesome Karen whipped up a Facebook page where we can connect and talk all things writing beyond just Fridays! Click here to join us.

Then come take the Five Minute Friday challenge.

1. Write for only five minutes.
2. Link back here and invite others to play along.
3. Go high five the word artist who linked up before you with an awesome comment.

It’s liberating; give it a a try and see.

OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes for the prompt:



There is nothing you can do, nothing you can say, nothing you can throw up, spit up, shout up that will make me love you less.

There is nothing you can do wrong and nothing you can do right that will make me love you more.

I love you as is. Period, Full stop. I love you to the moon and around the milky way and all the way back here to your messy bedroom with the three day old underwear you’ve left lying next to your bottom bunk despite how many times I’ve asked you to pick them up.

There is nothing about you that I don’t love. Not your tummy troubles or your lisp or the fight you had with that kid who disrespected your friend. There is nothing I want to erase about you and nothing I am embarrassed about you.

I take you. Period, Full stop.

I love you even on the days I don’t like you.

And nothing is going to change that.

Nothing is going to stop me being your mom. Ever. Not middle school or how uncool I am or how you wish I wouldn’t kiss you at running drop off. Not how you style your hair and not what shoes you wear and not the choices you make.

Sad, maybe. Disappointed, yes, that sometimes. Angry and frustrated and irritated too.

But nothing will unhook this DNA that I have wrapped around your story as tight as the curls you insist we buzz off you every summer.

Nothing will unmake me your mother and nothing will infiltrate this space in my heart that belongs just to you, and you and the last of our three. Her too.

You are my everything and you fill up all this nothing I didn’t know was aching away here in my heart.


{Subscribers, just click here to come over and play along by linking up a post or sharing your five minutes in the comments – which are open today.}