At ten years old, my obsessions were as varied as the spectrum of nail polish colors taking up residence in my glittery Caboodle. When I wasn’t rollerblading around the neighborhood or choreographing dance routines in my bedroom to the tune of Ace of Base, I wrote charming letters to Jonathan Taylor Thomas, whose fan mail address could be found at the back of Teen Bop magazine. I loved writing in my diary and dreaming about the future, which—bless my fifth grade aspirations—mostly consisted of getting married and working in a cubicle. At ten years old, I wanted nothing more than to grow up as fast as possible. Occasionally I’d overhear people tell my parents, “She’s so mature for her age.” And I would beam like the sun.
One decade later, I was engaged to be married.
For me, ten years is the exact gap of time between stuffing water balloons in the top of my two-piece bathing suit—pretending to have boobs—and trying on actual wedding dresses. This is the difference ten years can make: one day you’re plastering posters of Leonardo DiCaprio all over your bedroom closet, and the next you’re picking out dishes for your wedding registry.
The leap between twenty and thirty was just as significant—I went from a fiancée to a married mother of two, and from a college student to gainfully employed. Most of that decade consisted of trying on jobs like hats. Executive assistant. Nanny. Wellness concierge for a bougie country club. So many renditions of “Marketing Coordinator.” It was a decade of finding myself, I guess, but not in that woo-woo self-help book sort of way. More in the way of discovering what I loved, what I cared about, and what I was actually good at. This was the decade I started writing on the Internet, and the decade I taught myself how to use a camera. This was the decade my father-in-law died, and I learned what it actually meant to love my husband “for better and for worse.” This was the decade I became a mother, and the decade I started Coffee + Crumbs.
A lot can happen in ten years, is what I’m trying to say.
Ten years is a long time. 3,650 days, to be exact. That’s 87,600 hours. A decade is a long time to stay in one job, to be committed to the same kind of art. It’s certainly a long time to be honest and vulnerable with strangers on the Internet, to offer up your life, your story, your heartaches and questions and fears in the digital market square.
Dear reader, how can I possibly attempt to explain what this past decade has meant to me? How can I possibly capture in words the sheer gift you’ve given us in simply bearing witness to our collective motherhood?
This work has been sacred to me. Holy to me. My eyes have been opened to countless motherhood experiences and circumstances that are far more layered and nuanced than my own. This is the richest reward of this space, I think, the gift of being handed a new pair of glasses.
I have laughed here. Cried here. Been left breathless here. And even though most of our work is public—and therefore open to scrutiny—I have always felt safe to be brave here.
I’ll say it again: ten years is a long time. It’s the difference between diapers and fifth grade. The difference between fifth grade and an engagement ring. The difference between an engagement ring and two little boys running down the hallway. The difference between a tiny idea in the shower and all of … this.
Every year we are still standing, still making art, still able to pay the bills and pay the artists who make this space what it is, feels like a small miracle. I do not take it for granted that anyone is still here.
We recently took our kids to see Inside Out 2 and one of my favorite characters was Nostalgia, who shows up as a little old lady wearing rose-tinted glasses, remembering everything as being slightly better than it actually was. It got me thinking about my life, and this space, and how I will always look back on this work with great fondness and love—no rose-tinted glasses required. I don’t think I’ll look back on this work as being better than it was, because it actually was so, so good. Even after ten whole years, this work continues to be one of the greatest honors of my life.
Coffee + Crumbs has been a significant part of my motherhood experience.
From the deepest well of my personal gratitude, thank you for letting it be a teeny tiny part of yours.
Love, Ashlee
Coffee + Crumbs is a reader-supported publication.
To celebrate a decade of our work, we’re offering 30% off annual subscriptions this entire month (new subscribers only!). If you’ve been on the fence about upgrading your subscription, this is the last sale we’re running in 2024. Don’t miss out 😜
Yes, you get cool perks like bonus essays + bonus podcasts and exclusive access to our Dear Mothers column, but even better than that—you equip a whole team of mother artists to continue putting good stories into the world. Thank you for supporting women and the arts. We are still here, ten years later, because of you.
C+C Podcast
In A Wave of Nostalgia, Ashlee and Katie go back—waaay back—and relive some favorite moments, foods, songs, and smells of their younger years. We hope this episode inspires you to crank up that old school jam and take a trip of your own down memory lane.
C+C Faves
“Ten years later, I’m still a writer for Coffee + Crumbs. It doesn’t fit into one line on a college application, but I think writing is the thing that lets me take my fragments and turn them into a story. It’s what allows me to create something from scratch every day.” // The Job That’s Lasted the Longest by
Does anything capture ‘90s girlhood quite like this?
Because sometimes friendship means asking the hard questions.
Books on our (collective) nightstands: How to Solve Your Own Murder, Summer Romance, Splinters: Another Kind of Love Story, The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry, The Many Lives of Mama Love, On Writing, Home Cooking, Remaining You While Raising Them, and our Exhale book club pick, Write Your Story.
“I don’t want to sugarcoat any of the Most Hard Years. It’s not that I see them as any less difficult today or even that I want to go back to them. It’s just that my view of those days and that time has softened. It feels like a version of amnesia except the memories are all still there; they’ve just been slightly rewired.” // All That Glitters is Old by
This jumpsuit (travels well!) and these linen-blend pants are summer wardrobe staples. Accessorize with this packable straw tote, a basketweave-stitch vest, and these sculptural hoop earrings.
Let Callie be your writing guide—her nine-month writing course is open for enrollment.
“This isn’t about the LEGO sets, or the janky table my husband cobbled together, or the mess strewn across our garage. This is about fighting for the wonder, creativity, and imagination of my children.” // Long Long LEGO City by
We’ll be making the House Favorite chicken marinade from this cookbook all summer long.
If summer break is feeling long, try this free printable to note the weekly wins and lightbulb moments.
“I know God clothes birds and dresses flowers and I shouldn’t worry because He will do the same for me. But do birds need new school shoes like my seven-year-old? Do the flowers realize the price of strawberries are astronomical? Does God know what it’s like to limit goldfish intake because if they are all eaten at the start of the week there won't be any left to take for snack at school?” // The Unexpected Village by Karen Miller.
Put the kids in charge of their own laundry with these bags (you get a bag! you get a bag! you get a bag!).
Pro tips, travel edition: use these TSA-approved clear bags for skincare/toiletries and snacks, and take this chewable en route to mitigate jet lag.
“My daughter says, you’re not being normal, and why don’t you trust me? and the other parents don’t do this. I almost laughed at her, because even as the words came out of her mouth, it was as if I was in the living room in which I grew up, saying the exact same words to my mom.” // To Be Alive by
Triple-digit heat has us feeling wistful for cooler weather. This Sabbath sweatshirt, this polo sweater, and this half-zip pullover are all on our fall wishlist.
In our earbuds: this episode is a fascinating deep dive on how to improve skin health from a Stanford School of Medicine professor. ICYMI, Ashlee and Katie talk about who and what are influencing their habits, practices, and shopping carts in this bonus C+C episode.
Simple pleasures: comfortable, no-show underwear and pretty, low-maintenance nails.
Sarah’s tri-berry crumbles makes use of allll the summer berries (and we won’t judge if you make these for breakfast instead of dessert).
Know someone who would love Coffee + Crumbs? Feel free to share our work with a friend (you can even earn free months in the process)! ❤️
Confession: I still have my Caboodle and store my make-up in it. I’ve taken it out every morning for the last 23 years, I’m guessing.
My son is turning 9 next week. You were one of the first blogs put in my path when I was an excited pregnant girl. I now have 3 children and I have read and listened to CC and have never paid a single dollar. Today I became a supporter of the show. I’m embarrassed it took me this long. Thank you 100x over for the work you have done in 10 years. I have been here for most of it. It has been my favorite for various reasons- mostly the perfect mix of laughter and tears. Funny, heart warming, eye opening and Christian. Imperfectly perfect through Him.