I'm Cait, a Massachusetts mom of 4 living in a small, woodsy town with my kids, husband, dog and our hamster, Henry the Friendly. I'm a freelance writer, aspiring author and poet at heart who loves writing about the wonders of the simple life and finding God in the midst of the everyday.
For inquiries email: cswinters15@gmail.com
As Catholics, we’re well advised not to put *too* much stock in dreams. They can be easily influenced by imagination yet; there are several accounts of God reaching out to his people through dreams in the Bible (like that of Saint Joseph). Not all dreams are prophetic but this one has stuck with me and really personifies my journey through Motherhood, and to Mary.
Let me take you into my dream cloud for a spell:
“Where am I?” I wonder, “It’s hot! Why is it so hot?” All I can hear is the muffled sound of waves crashing. I’m walking down the street of an unfamiliar seaside neighborhood road. I squint my eyes, doing my best to look at the houses surrounding me in hopes of recognizing one. A mysterious fog mixed in the sea-sprayed air, too thick to make out details.
On a sunny wedding day and a cold time of desolation, I found my joy when I found my Jesus.
My husband Erik and I married on a sunny Saturday afternoon in the Spring at our rural hometown parish. After taking photos by the lake, we walked back to our car to catch up to the rest of our guests who were already en route to the reception. At the same time, the crowd for that evening’s Vigil Mass was settling in. We were giddy walking back, holding on to each other, talking and laughing along the way. I was trying my best to keep my heels from sinking into the grassy field while juggling my bouquet and keeping the train of my blush wedding dress from dragging in the dirt.
This is a story about my best friend, who went above and beyond to be there for me. My daughter was in the hospital during this time but, in the midst of so much pain, God gave us one of the most precious memories of our friendship, and my life.
Our Origin Story-
How can I even begin to explain a friendship like ours’? We met back in 2007 at tech school where we earned our Medical Assistant certifications. In class we clicked right away. We had a lot in common, both at crossroads in our lives. Me, rebuilding my life after having a baby, leaving my toxic ex and moving back to my mom’s house. She, starting over 3,000 miles away from Arizona where she lived, moving in with her dad and bettering her life for she and her daughter.
Within a few months we were not only going to school together, but working and living as roommates too! We did well in school, both graduating with honors, but our free time looked a bit different. We were a little wild back then, before conversions and reconversions but I have no regrets (okay, maybe one or two!🤭). We talked to guys, danced in clubs and sang in the car. Some of the most fun we had was just hanging out, getting ready and sharing the bathroom mirror.
Please follow my writing there as well as the many wonderful contributors who share their hearts, talents and time for the Catholic Mom community!
Cait Winters tells the story of how her kids cheer her on through the Sign of the Cross.
It was lunchtime in the middle of a typically busy homeschooling day. We had spent the morning on a hike at nature co-op and still had math, cursive and reading to cover that afternoon. Homeschooling can be hard on a home (and a homemaker!) because most days, aside from my hardworking husband, everyone is here all day long. I wouldn’t trade this time serving my family for the world, but it often means cooking three meals a day and constant cycles of washing and drying to keep up our well-loved, humble home.
That morning I had overslept, being early-pregnant and tired and didn’t have a chance to unload the perpetual dishes. It was easy to leave and forget about the chores while on our hike but coming back to them was another story. The sink was half-full already, but I had hungry kids to feed, so I fired up the stove and sudsed up what I could. The smell of cooking was turning my stomach and everywhere I looked, my to-do list grew.
I did a swat-like Sign of the Cross, blessing myself as I caught my breath and forged ahead. The Sign of the Cross is a quick way for me to ask for heaven’s help without even saying a word. I broke a sweat but got through the chores, finally setting plates and drinks out for the kids and calling them to the kitchen table.
Last year, at four months post-partum with my fourth child, I returned to college. I took a semester off back in 2014 when I was still a single, working mom. It was to marry my husband. Soon children followed and love swept me away. Life at home opened me up to a deeper spirituality, homeschooling sparked a renewed love of learning and in 2024, I went back to school myself.
An Academic Faith-
When I was engaged to be married is when I really started to learn about the Catholic faith I had been born into. After having my first child young, I had a Baptist then non-denominational stint. It’s been said that the Church is a good psychologist and I wholeheartedly agree. Thanks to the sacraments, established by Jesus, I raised my daughter in the Church. Even when I denied my faith, I baptized her out of culture and a sense of familial duty. Perhaps the seeds of my youth were sprouting curious tendrils even then.
We walked this broken road in April and May. The end of the homeschool year, the end of my college semester, Mother’s Day and her peers graduating all around me as she fought for her life. It was hard but we had hope that through this trial, God was making things new.
A good Prognosis-
From the powerful Rosary mentioned in my last post on, my daughter continued to improve. There were ups and downs and it wasn’t easy but, she was well enough to breathe on her own again. We were so relieved to see her awake and somewhat alert. The next few days brought many challenges, but her prognosis was good. There were a litany of tests and therapies: bloodwork, cultures, CT, MRI, X-ray, physical therapy, occupational therapy and so many doctors, nurses, aides and staff in and out of her room at a steady pace.
My prior experience as a medical assistant, though many years ago, served me well in understanding and handling so much information. I’d often be asked by professionals if I was in the field and it reminded me how no experience is ever wasted. Not even the career “given up” to be home with your kids. My spiritual life has grown so much through the years, more than I could have imagined as a baby Catholic re-vert. Though I was blindsided, God was not surprised. He quipped me with everything I needed to persevere and be strong for my baby.
My daughter Autumn has always been a miracle in my life. First when she was born and again this past Spring when she experienced a radical healing.
When she was graced into my life, I was in a dark place but she was my sunshine. A little tow head with white-blonde hair and blue eyes punctuated by yellow sunbursts around the pupils. She carried me through and when my husband came into our lives, we became a family.
She is our origin story and often reminds us as we have added children, changed and grown, “I started this family!” It’s true, and we just wouldn’t be the same without her.
The world can be a dark and ugly place. People are hurt by the very ones who should love and protect them. Innocents are slain in the house of God. Parents pray education won’t cost them their babies. Families spend time with screens to ignore their flesh and blood. Little eyes are closed before they have the chance to see. Where words are violence, but murder is justified.
If it weren’t so real, we’d refuse to believe it. And we often do. Living in our ideals and pushing inconvenient truths to the side to regulate ourselves enough to make it through the day. That is, until we’re confronted with the ruthlessness of hate, the insatiability of lust, the finality of death, in a way we can’t escape.
We’re forced to face the unblinking truth that evil does exist.
People often discuss the sacrificial nature of bringing children into the world. The aches of pregnancy, the pain of childbirth, the toll it can take to meet the needs of the helpless little baby God has placed in your care. These are valid realities, understandable feelings, but what we don’t talk about enough is what a “cross” it can be to have to wait.
Hello, friend! My name is Caitlin Winters, but you can call me Cait. I’m a wife of 10 years, a mom of four children from toddler to teen and a forest dweller living out my family dreams on Massachusetts’ beautiful South Coast. I’m a devout Catholic-Christian, stay at home-homeschooling mom and an Early Childhood Education student turned Psychology major.
I’m a writer and aspiring author and have had the joy of being published by some of my favorite outlets. You can find all of my pieces, where to direct inquiries and more by visiting my bio page: About Cait.
My writing journey started back in 2018 with this very blog. It was on the tail-end of the “mommy blogger” era and soon traditional blogging fell out of vogue in favor of micro-blogs on social media. That’s where I have been able to express myself, connect with many creatives and collaborate with some amazing people through the years.
However, social media is not like it once was. When I started writing publicly it was much more authentic. People shared snapshots of coffees and books, candid photography and raw in-the moment thoughts and feelings. These platforms have since been saturated by business ads, AI images and auto-generated captions. While socials used to connect creatives with audiences, these changes have cheapened the experience.
That goes for sharing as well. I feel the desire to resurrect my little corner of the internet to retain creative control, build something more substantial and connect with readers far beyond the scroll. I’m excited to have this chance to make content that is more worthwhile for myself and my visitors alike!
Despite these grievances, I’m still on social media so I can stay in touch with you! (My links and where to find me are at the end of this post!)
Prayers Over The Kitchen Sink 