Hi, Friends. 

I’m reliving my childhood love for figure skating during the Olympics. It’s never too late to put the boots back on; you might catch me at Pineville Ice House sooner than later.

In this issue: You'll meet Lindsay McClelland, who stepped back from her VP role at Little Sleepies to redefine what showing up at 100% really means, discover how Olympic and Paralympic mothers like Brenna Huckaby are rewriting the rules of elite athletics, dive into the Frida Baby marketing controversy that has parents questioning where brands should draw the line, and spiral about your grocery budget as food prices continue to climb.

Deep breaths. We’re all in this together! At least, according to the High School Musical cast. The Ashley Tinsdale mean mommy drama is one for another day.

Cheers,
Meg

“Got on meds and feel the will to live creeping back into my body” - Newly postpartum, anon, first-time mom

Operation: remove the stigma from medication for mental health.

→ Your turn: submit your “gold star” moment from the week. 

"Who Made This Rule?"

When American sailor Sarah Newberry Moore got pregnant in 2021, she assumed her Olympic dreams were over. She didn't know many women who'd made it to the Games as mothers—even as her male peers competed at the highest level while raising children. "Who made this rule?" she remembers thinking. "I'm going to do both."

Three years later, her son Iren was in Paris, cheering as she competed for Team USA.

A Growing Wave

Moore is part of a growing wave of athlete mothers refusing to choose between family and sport. This year's Winter Olympics features nine American mothers—up from just one in 2018. Among them is Paralympian snowboarder Brenna Huckaby, a four-time Paralympic medalist and mother of two daughters, who lost her leg to cancer at 14 and discovered snowboarding became not just her sport, but her lifeline. At the 2024 Paris Games, Egyptian fencer Nada Hafez competed seven months pregnant, revealing the news mid-competition.

The Real Cost

The gains are real but the barriers remain steep. Skeleton athlete Kelly Curtis is paying $700 per night for 17 nights to stay in a hotel with her daughter Maeve rather than the Olympic Village, which doesn't accommodate children. That's nearly $12,000 out of pocket.

The Landscape is Shifting

Still, progress is happening. Paris 2024 introduced the first-ever nursery in Olympic Village. Organizations like For All Mothers+ provide $5,000 grants to cover childcare and travel costs. Athletes like Allyson Felix—who broke records after becoming a mother—are forcing conversations about maternity protections and equal support.

"We're in a powerful moment in time," said three-time Olympic gold medalist Kerri Walsh Jennings, a mother of three.

From Fanny Blankers-Koen winning four golds in 1948 as a mother of two, to today's athletes bringing their babies to the podium, Olympic mothers have always been there. The difference now? They're no longer willing to compete in silence.

Lindsay McClelland has completed 31 marathons. She's helped build Little Sleepies from a scrappy startup to a household name. She's navigated cervical cancer during pregnancy, moved cities, and raised a son through a pandemic. She’s gritty, consistent and it’s hard to shake her. But, her son’s questions about why she works so much started to shift her mindset.

After five years as VP of Marketing at Little Sleepies, McClelland made a decision that surprised even herself: she stepped back. Not because she stopped caring about her work, but because she started thinking differently about what showing up at 100 percent really means.

"If not now, then when?" she says about leaving her role this past December. "When I show up for something or for someone, I want to give them 100 percent," she says. "I was doing that at work, but I wasn't necessarily doing that at home."

Thirty-one marathons have taught her about pacing, knowing when to push and when to pull back. This pause isn't a finish line. It's the steady miles in the middle of the race, trusting that the right pace will carry you exactly where you need to go.

Set the Pace with Lindsay →

Frida, the parent brand behind the beloved NoseFrida snot-sucker and the disposable underwear pretty much all of us wore postpartum, is facing intense backlash after some marketing materials surfaced on social media this week. Screenshots showing sexual innuendos on product packaging went viral, with parents criticizing the humor as inappropriate for infant products.

The most controversial examples included a post showing a rectal thermometer with the caption "This is the closest your husband's gonna get to a threesome," and packaging reading "How about a quickie?" According to Newsweek, one viral X post was viewed over 4 million times, with many parents vowing to boycott.

Frida has long used irreverent humor to connect with overwhelmed parents, but many felt this crossed a line. In a statement to Modern Retail, the brand defended their approach while acknowledging "humor is personal" and committing to evaluate how they express their voice going forward.

As one crisis communications expert told Modern Retail: "You have to be incredibly careful as a brand—particularly when you're selling products relating to children—not to overstep the mark."

Needless to say…in today’s climate especially…they need to read the room. 

The quiet panic of watching your cart total creep past $200. The mental math in the cereal aisle.

Here's the reality: A family of four is spending $1,389-$1,500/month on groceries in 2026, according to the USDA. That's before the Target run or anything fun.

Since February 2020, grocery prices have jumped 29%. Beef is up 16.4% year-over-year. Infant formula? Up 17.5%.

You're not overspending. Food really just costs this much now.

Maggie Lavender, a beloved Charlotte mom of three young kids, was recently diagnosed with colon cancer at just 32 years old. We're rallying around the Lavender family during this incredibly difficult time with support for treatment, bills, and groceries. 

Contribute to their GoFundMe →

Forward Half Full to a mom friend — because the only thing better than surviving the week is laughing about it together.

“See” you in your inbox in two weeks!