So God Made a Mother Collection ➔

It won’t be you, right? You can drive quite well when you’re buzzed. You can expertly send a text message and keep your eyes on the road. You know all of the curves up ahead, and know that your phone dropped just underneath your seat. You won’t kill my kids this summer as you drive drunk or distracted. Of course, this doesn’t apply to you.

But it does apply to you. You could kill my kids this summer.

You could choose to drink and drive. You could choose to text and drive. You could choose to be just a little dumb for a few seconds and drive. You are not the exception. You could be a killer. You could choose to kill my children.

Every day, every night, every weekend, I load my kids into the car hoping I’ll be able to unload them alive.

I buckle them into their correctly-installed five-point harness system, making sure it’s snug and accurately placed. I put my phone to driving mode, check all of the mirrors, and make sure juice and snacks are all refilled before we leave the driveway. I use my turn signals, keep my eyes on the road, and never get in the car if I can’t give driving my full attention.

And yet, I know that if we meet you, none of that will matter.

Recently, our local community was rocked by the death of a young person to a drunk driver. Someone who had just started their life. Someone who was not drinking, was not texting, was not looking away. Someone’s child was killed. You could have been their killer.

To you, it might just be one or two drinks. You might just be a little buzzed.

To you, it might just be a quick text, a lazy phone call, a check of your latest post.

To you, it might just be a couple of seconds looking away from the road, a search for a napkin, a glance to your kids fighting in the back seat.

But to me, it might just be a tiny wreck, no big deal. It might just be me sighing and rolling my eyes at your distracted driving. It might just be me moving to the side to let a police car, with its lights on, pass me to pull you over.

But it could also be much worse. You could end my life, end your life, end your passengers’ lives, end my children’s lives.

Just remember. It’s my kids in that oncoming car. It’s my kids riding their bikes down the road. It’s my kids just trying to get from Point A to Point B alive.

When you choose to make poor decisions behind the wheel, you’re also choosing to end my children’s lives.

My children who like to sing “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep” and read stories before bed. My children who yell “cows” every time we drive past a farmer’s field. My children who like to get ice cream at the stand in town after a day of playing. Real children you have the power to take away from this world in just seconds. Power to take away the feeling of their gentle hands and chubby arm folds. Their inquisitive minds and peaceful souls. Their youthful innocence and optimistic outlook. You can take that all away.

And even if it’s not my kids, it’s someone else’s kids. Their babies. Their daughters. Their sons.

They could be your kids.

You could kill them, drunk or distracted driver.

This summer, this year, and for the rest of your whole dang life—do not drink and drive. Do not get distracted while you drive. Because the life you end might not just be yours—it could be mine, it could be someone that’s in the car with you, it could be my kids.

Who do you want to be when you get behind the wheel? Do you want to say no to that drink, or catch a ride? Or do you want to drink and drive—and be a killer? Do you want to send that quick “be right there” text? Or do you want to keep on living your best life, and let my kids keep on living theirs?

They’re children.

Don’t kill them.

You may also like:

I Text and Drive. And I’m Sorry.

The Dangers Of Driving While Tired: The Wake Up Call We All Need

Katelyn Stoll

Katelyn Stoll is a mother to three young boys and lives on a farm in rural NY. She navigates the rough waters of postpartum mood disorders using humor, support from her family, and chocolate. Lots of chocolate. 

You Don’t Raise Your Babies to Be Little Forever, but I Thought I’d Have More Time

In: Kids, Motherhood, Teen, Tween
Little boy peeking over wooden fence, color photo

I can see the yellow blur of the school bus passing in front of my window. Soon my little boy will excitedly burst through the front door with his picture of a giraffe from art class. His big brown eyes will meet mine as I get a toothless “I missed you, Mom” grin. He will tell me everything he had on his tray for lunch, recount the whole soccer game at recess, and share all about that hilarious thing his friend said on the bus. He will then sit on my lap as he takes each school paper out of...

Keep Reading

No Man in a Girl’s Life Holds More Influence than Her Dad

In: Kids, Marriage, Motherhood
Father and daughter on amusement ride, color photo

As I sat outside Walmart watching my husband of nearly 16 years walk in with my 9-year-old daughter to buy me a box of tampons, I realized how blessed I am.  This is real life. Not only does he not care about running into the store and picking up these items, he asks our girls if they want to join him, and they use this time to talk. They talk about real-life—about growing up, changing bodies, what tampons are even for, how they can wait years and years before they need to start dating, how he will be waiting outside...

Keep Reading

My Little Girl Has Big, Brave Dreams

In: Kids, Motherhood
School paper with little girl's handwriting, color photo

My 6-year-old daughter wants to be a soldier.   When we heard from the ultrasound tech that we were having another girl, that was not exactly the career path that popped into our heads.   There’s something absolutely terrifying knowing your child wants to do something big like this. I’m sure I’d be petrified if I had a son with the same ambition, but there’s something extra scary about it being your little girl. There’s something weighty about raising a daughter who wants to be a soldier. But honestly, it’s not a surprise at all. RELATED: God Has Filled Your...

Keep Reading

As My Children Grow, I Miss It All—Even the Sick Days

In: Kids, Motherhood
Toddler on mom's shoulder

I whisk my daughter through the doors of urgent care and cradle her head as I stand behind three other mamas clinging to their babies. We’re each rocking in different ways but moving nonetheless. The silent, comforting rhythm of motherhood. I see sad, sick eyes from the babies with their heads nestled into the necks of their mama. I’m tired from the sleepless night, and I shift from foot to foot. There is hushing and humming and back-patting. A pacifier drops to the floor. All of a sudden my daughter feels heavy. A vague sinking feeling comes over me, like...

Keep Reading

Life with Autism Is Full of Ticking Time Bombs

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother, father, teen daughter, color photo

Many of us who live with autism are familiar with the comings and goings of the ticking time bomb—one that disappears for periods of time, so much so that we might forget about it. Then, suddenly, this bomb drops at our doorstep in the form of a returning or new obstacle, so intense that it causes us to pause our lives, alter our plans, maybe even change our current paths. For our family, the new challenge has been sudden, piercing, sporadic screams. Not constant, not even often, thankfully, but jolting nonetheless. So here we were, in the midst of our...

Keep Reading

Youth Sports Build Strong Kids

In: Kids
Young girl with gymnastics medal, color photo

My kids are heavily involved in sports. My son plays for an elite basketball team and my daughter competes on an Xcel gymnastics team. It takes up a lot of our time and a lot of our money. Even though prioritizing youth sports seems to be an American norm, we still sometimes receive criticism and judgment as to why we would spend so much of our time and resources on it. (“Don’t you know the chances of your child going pro is less than 1%?”) As I sat at my daughter’s gymnastics meet, listening to the parents cheer so excitedly...

Keep Reading

Don’t Let Anyone Rush You, Mama

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother with two kids at home relaxing

From the moment our children are born, other people make it challenging to stay in the present moment—they start asking questions that look forward instead of at the now we are in. Can you believe how big she’s getting, where did your newborn go? Oh my goodness, he’ll be walking any day now! Are you thinking about preschool? What will you do when they’re both in school? What will you do when your baby goes to college? While these questions may come with good intentions, they’re not helpful at all. We moms need to be allowed to be fully in...

Keep Reading

Dear Child, God Sees All of You—And So Do I

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Mom and young son painting together

Math has always come easily to him. Even from the beginning stages when we counted wooden blocks on the living room floor, the numbers just came to him. “How many blocks are there?” I asked him, pointing to the scattered row of blocks. I expected him to count them. He was only three or four years old. “Six,” he answered promptly. “Yes . . . but how did you know that?” I asked hesitantly. He had not taken the time necessary to have counted them. “Three and three are six,” he replied. And on it went. The math came easily,...

Keep Reading

Kids Crave Your Time, Not Fancy Things

In: Kids, Motherhood
Dad and daughter with basketball smiling

I have four kids, and like most parents, I’m doing my best to give them a happy childhood, but we’re not really an activity family. Don’t get me wrong, we love a good day trip to the local water park or a night out at the movies, but with several different ages and a tight budget, activities or outings are rare for us. Sometimes I end up feeling bad about it, like our kids are missing out, but then I take a deep breath and realize that some of the best moments come from the simplest of things. Lucky for...

Keep Reading

Dear Kindergarten Graduate—Wherever Life Takes You, I’ll Always Be Your Safe Place To Land

In: Kids, Motherhood

I cried on your first day of kindergarten. Did you know that? I held it together through the getting ready and the goodbyes—but once I had waved one last time and was pulling out of the parking lot, the lump in my throat poured out as hot tears down my cheeks.  How could you be starting kindergarten? You, my precious firstborn baby. We had some growing pains as we adjusted to a new routine. The school days were so long. I spent my days missing you and you spent yours missing me. We were apart from each other more than...

Keep Reading

 5 Secrets to Connect with Your Kids


Proven techniques to build REAL connections