Embracing Imperfect Motherhood

What is your picture of motherhood? What do you see as the perfect "mom"? What expectations do you have when you wake up and see your home and think of how it could be? 
 When I think of a good mom, my ideal tends to be drawn to the woman who's home is spotless. She makes homemade meals; does arts and crafts with her five small children. The children are always put together, and she is always put together nicely. She is the queen of multi-tasking; never feeling overwhelmed by her life. She loves being with her children (ALL THE TIME) and interacts with them at home and when she goes to the park. 

I know friends who have filled this ideal in one or two areas; but rarely in everything.  I have seen the spotless homes and wonder how in the heck do they do that with more than one child running around?  I see laundry neatly put away, and for the longest time I wanted to run hiding when people would see my piles hiding in different places (I abhor laundry).  I see the organic meals moms make. I see mom's making dozens of cookies with their children for school; giving them something more than a poptart for breakfast and I admire them! I have gotten better, but first thing in the morning is just not my thing. I need way too many cups of coffee before I get that kind of motivation. 
For the longest time I was jealous of anyone who I perceived held up the perfect mother standard. I envied their drive to do things I hated and was, in all honesty, sometimes too lazy to do.
I felt a heavy amount of guilt because I thought I was falling short of something. Feeling like I was not being a good mom because I chose to work instead of spending every waking moment with them. I tried the stay-at-home mommy part and it just wasn't for me.  I needed to work. That need left me feeling guilty.
I would oft times lose my temper with my children; I would sometimes feed them poptart for the second time that day because I honestly just didn't feel like cooking something that I knew would be a battle to get them to eat.  When I took them to the park, I would begrudge playing on the different things with them. What is wrong with me that I can't do good mom things?

 One day while I was dealing with a particularly down moment in my mommy pity party, Sarah walked up to me and said, "You're a great mommy." For some reason that got me to look at everything from a different perspective: I am not perfect and I will never be a perfect mom.

Hold the phone. 
Let me repeat it for you: We are not perfect and will never  be a perfect mom.
The mothers who seem to "have it together" I guarantee you deal with the feeling of inadequacy just as you do. Motherhood has been turned into a competition, and it never should be such. Our culture looks at each other to find flaws (cloth diaper vs. disposables- boob milk vs. formula - natural birth assisted by dolphins vs. fully medicated hospital birth). It is like we are pitted against one another from the time we pee on a stick until the end of time.

This is AFTER I cleaned it :)

The explosion of social media has only blew out of proportion the "Keeping up with the Joneses" to who looks the best on Facebook/Pinterest. Motherhood is beautiful chaos. Children are impossible to keep in an orderly manner, unless you wish to hinder their spirit. As children are predictable, so is life. 
You come to my house any given day, you will find piles of laundry waiting to be put away (did I mention I HATE laundry) and dishes in the sink. I keep my floors pretty clean, but toys are everywhere despite the fact I clean them up with the girls multiple times a day. I maintain my home; no cover of Southern Living in my place.  My is clean, but it is cluttered and messy most of the time
I feed my kids a mix of good food and very, very processed food. We watch TV on days I don't feel like doing much, and other days we go to the park where I encourage them to do things on their own. 

Motherhood is not about what you are failing at, but about what you are doing! If you are loving, feeding, and nurturing your children in a healthy environment YOU ARE DOING A WONDERFUL JOB! If you dress your children, keep them safe from the elements and all sorts of other nasty things you are able to prevent YOU ARE A GREAT MOTHER! 

Don't doubt the impact you are making on your children. They will remember most your love and your time with them. They won't remember you didn't put away the laundry for the one-hundredth time. They will remember you; your warmth and your calm. 

Just you remember that.

Loving Me Where I Am

The last few months I have been struggling. Struggling with this inner voice that keeps telling me bad things; things that hurt me and make me feel less that what I am. 
This voice tells me things like:
"Can you believe how big you are?"
" You're so big you can't even wear shoes without the weight hurting your feet"
" Yes, go ahead, eat that cookie---you're big anyway; why not add to it?"
"What is the point of trying?"
These thoughts and more have ran on repeat since I have hit my highest weight in my life. Regardless of food, exercise, medication, or anything else this number on a scale goes up.
The weight played into my mood and my depression. It created a self-hate that billowed out into a frustration towards everyone around me. Everything I would do would make me angry.


One night Sam talked to me and said, "I wish I could make you see you through my eyes. You are beautiful, sexy, loving, and a good person. The only person that can change this is you. No one else."

It hit me hard...and in a place I needed to. I  was the one who had to own my inner dialogue and change how I felt about myself.

So I started taking vitamins and moving throughout the day. I started making small changes (eating an orange instead of a cookie type change) and just moderating what I eat. Nothing that caused a crazy amount of focus or planning. 

I also changed what I say to myself. Remembering that I have had a massive amount of things happen to my body over the last 5 years. I have had three children in four years, two major surgeries (cesareans are major surgeries), dealt with severe postpartum depression, and moved four times. I have not always managed it the right way; sometimes using food as my comfort. Other times I have harmed my body with "fad" dieting and crashing my system.


The number on the scale is just my gravitational pull on this earth. It has nothing to do with my self-worth.
I love my husband and my children more than anything in this world.  There is nothing I would not do for them. I watch my girls grow and pray that they do not inherit my problem with self-image...but my example to them will be how they learn to love themselves.

I am intelligent and driven, and am capable of doing so many things--as are they. I see great things in their future; I do not want them to be held back by a number on the scale. 
I have my faith in Christ, and I want them to see that and know that through Christ they can be and have so much more than this life can offer. But how can they see the joy of I have if it is masked by angry and frustration at myself?


Since I have been working on my change in mindset; I have felt so much better. Little exercises, more water, vitamins, and change in food choices here and there have already made me feel better physically. I celebrated a big milestone for me with being able to put on my wedding set for the first time in months--still couldn't wear it long but was able to get it on and off my fingers!

I don't want the body I had five years ago, and my body will never be that way again. Each pound and stretch mark is a sign of a change; a girl changing into a woman-the life changing event of carrying and birthing children---and it is me.

All of it-from my extra rolls to my nearly double chin. All of it signifies something that has changed in me...just as I am getting healthy is a sign of another change. There will be many more in the years to come.

If you are reading this you are WORTH SO MUCH MORE than what size you wear and what you weigh. YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE than fat rolls and pooches. Size six or thirty-two does not define the size of your heart and the love you have for people. 

Flying After a Leap of Faith

 Many times we get stuck in a rut. We get comfortable in our space and around our people, that the thought of change is not even fathomable. The familiarity of your surroundings and your daily life is [mostly] predictable. You know everything about that rut, and you love the people that surround you. You could never imagine leaving. Ever. Even so much as say it to your husband a thousand times that moving is the last thing ever you want to do.

Then God moves.

...and He says to move.

Not just across town or across the state. You move across the country.

Not for a calling in the ministry. Not to become active lay-people of a local church. Just move.

Of course job security-wise it made sense. Sam had stayed home long enough, he was ready for a job with a future. So God provided that job and the benefits have been astounding.

We wanted our girls involved in school and other children's activities. Everything we ever wanted was in the town God put on our hearts; and on top of that affordable!

I questioned myself and Sam over and over,  "Are you sure this is the right thing?" He would look at me with confidence and faith and say YES.

Fear pattered in my heart. My heart broke as I knew I would leave the people I loved, people that meant so much to me. Sam's heart saddened, as he too knew he would say goodbye to his familiar life and his family.  We would be close to my parents, and that was an exciting thing for us.

Sam never wavered. He has been such an example of faith to me. Even when he had strong opposition; he never wavered on what he knew God wanted us to do.

What a man my husband is.

I told the Lord we needed the money and a home to move. I didn't want to come up here and live in a hotel for months with three small children. Within a couple weeks both were provided.

From our decision to move in March until our final day in KY the end of May...everything fell into place. If that wasn't God's hand, I don't know what it was.

Once here Sam got to work immediately. I started networking around get my lactation practice up and running. Through it I have met some amazing women. My mom told me of the MOPS group that met once a week, and they held a women's bible study.  I decided to give it a go.

It would be life changing.

What a wonderful group of women. I have not felt that much love and christian communion among a group of women as I feel there. They barely knew me and prayed for me, loved me as though I have been there forever. It is a group I have prayed for years to be a part of, and have never found it truly in all the churches or places I've been. Normal moms and kids just making it like I am. We come together with all our struggles and no faces of piety or judgement. My heart swells with Christian love for all of those women.

Sarah has joined gymnastics and has blossomed over the summer. She has grown in confidence and in personality. She starts school in the fall...so hard to believe.
Natalie has grown too. She is such a high-spirited, stubborn girl with a big heart. She loves her daddy and her Papa. That kid will play hockey next year...she loves to bulldoze people haha.
Reese...well she is just rotten.

Sam has made a few friends and has even found great help in the VA here. We both have grown in faith so much. He has grown in faith; which is such a blessing.

There have been ups and downs since we have been here, but never once have we doubted our faith-decision to move. God's hand has been on it since day one. The longer we are here the more we see it.  

So after four years of mostly valleys and trials, we are so happy to be given our "expected end" (for now) and fly on our wings of peace. The leap of faith was so worth it.

Dear Tired Mama

Dear Tired Mama,
 I know you are weary. I know that right now you are sitting and sighing out all the tension of a days work. You look around your home and you see all the things that still need to be done and you drop your head. You wish for ten minutes that every spot in the house would be clean, and that all the children would stay in their beds so you can have five minutes of perfect peace. 
 Tears well up in your eyes as all-too-familiar thoughts come to mind, I was too harsh. Why did I wish for bedtime so quickly? I am wishing my precious time away with them. Oh...but I couldn't stand the crying anymore. Am I a bad mother? Why can't I do everything that <insert name> does? I should really clean the baseboards. Do I have baseboards? These thoughts, and thoughts like them, start running and spiraling out of control. You wish for perfection and a Pinterest life, and are overwhelmed and frustrated when it doesn't turn out that way.
 You are not alone in your frustrations. Lower the bar on yourself. This does not indicate failure, but will give you room to breathe. You deserve to breathe. Take a room a day; a half room a day. Keep the pestilence away and stop just surviving. You deserve to sit down at the end of a long day and feel accomplished. Fed the kids? Everyone happy and healthy? You have done your job. Everything else comes in its time. 
 One day these short years of little ones and dirty floors will be a memory. You will have sparkling floors and clean tables (maybe even laundry caught up!), but for now enjoy your moment. Enjoy the lives and love that surround you. I know you're tired; but in the end all this will be worth it. 

There are no ways to be a perfect mother...but a million ways to be a good one.

The Looking Glass

Found this looking over a few things. It is a poem I wrote back in 2007.

The Looking Glass



I can't stop myself from
Looking into the glass;
Trying to see the future,
And what may come to pass.

All I want to know
Is when this road ends;
All the lonely moments gone,
and happiness finally begins.

I've been waiting for
That moment so long,
Thinking at times I've
Had it; but was wrong.

Years of pointless heartache
I could have done without;
And years of scars making a skeptic,
That I can't do anything about.

But now I stand before
This mirror hoping to see,
That moment in my life
When I am finally free.

My hand on the glass
To wipe away the gray;
Only to find that
It will not go away.

The more that I try
To see just a peak;
The gray gets darker,
Filling me with defeat.

After a moment I
Finally step back and see;
That the glass will never reveal
More than the present state of me.

I stand aghast at the sight
Of the reflection standing there;
Seeing the scars and bruises
That so obviously appear.

This other me is not
What others tend to know;
The one who smiles all the time,
And puts on a good show.

This is the one who
Haunts me day and night;
Makes me regret everything
That I didn't do just right.

I quickly turn away
And turn to my right;
Before me stood Christ,
In all His glory and might.

He says to me softly
that I'm no longer alone;
And all my wounds and sin
He alone can atone.

He is the Balm of Gilead,
The Great Physician here;
My Saviour and Advocate,
My Friend that's so dear.

He took me back and stood
Me before the glass;
Staring at my reflection, saying
"This too shall pass".

He gave to me a promise
As He took my hand;
Hope for my tomorrow-
For me, and expected end.

I do no have to worry
About not seeing ahead;
For I know that He is with me,
and I shall go where I am lead.

You Are Changing the World

Today I attended my first women's Bible study in a long time. I forgot how sweet it was to be around women believers, and listen to Truth being discussed.  One of the things we discussed (although briefly) was our ministry. How a lot of times we like to jump from the small things to the larger things. We do not have patience for the in-between.  It was read out of our devotional that if we try to work from the outside in our ministry will in effect implode on itself. 

 God has called all of us to be witnesses to the world, but for a lot of us our "world" doesn't go much further than our own homes. If you are like me, you might get frustrated when you can't go and do the big elaborate things. For me it was working and reaching out to other women; for you it might be a mission field or on a stage speaking to hundreds. So when my "ministry" was reduced to being at home 24/7 I suddenly started to feel at a loss.  I felt useless and not needed anymore. I felt as though I was accomplishing anything for the greater good.

 Now bear with me.

 Our lives are made up of chapters. Each chapter builds one into the other building our life story. At the end of our story our hope and prayer is that we lived a life that glorified God.  So what if we do not reach the world for God as it was commanded in the Great Commission? What if we never get the chance to go into all the world and preach? Does that mean we have failed in our following Christ? Not hardly.

 God first and foremost called us to minister from the inside outward. He has in-trusted us with people in our lives to minister to. It is how we handle this responsibility that will make a difference in eternity. So when I began feeling like my "ministry" was reduced it was really my pride and vanity talking. What I missed wasn't just the ability to help others, I missed the recognition and the praise. I missed the feeling of being appreciated on told so on a daily basis. My flesh missed all the things that glorified the flesh. At home I know my girls love me, but they certainly do not show appreciation for me. There are no thank you's for wiping up bodily functions or feeding them food they do not eat. There is no appreciation for sweeping the floor or doing laundry that never ends. My rewards have completely changed. 

 It took a few weeks, and today's Bible study, to start changing my perspective. It starts at home. If I want to change the world, I must pour my heart and soul into the children I have been so blessed with. They are the generation coming up, and their impact will be felt in ways mine never could. They will reach more people, see more things, and have different lives than mine. So my ministry in truth was not reduced; it was expanded! 

 As I try to teach my daughters my influence will be felt by others long after I am gone; whether it is good or bad. They will teach their sons and daughters what they have learned. They will be (hopefully) great followers of Christ.

 So as you sit amongst your piles of laundry ( mine is about 4 loads deep tonight to fold) and you want to cry in your towels. Remember that your quiet sacrifice and the love you have is doing as much or if not more than a missionary in the far reaches of the world. You are diligently praying and teaching your children. You are changing the world You one little soul at a time.

Weary in Well Doing

Galatians 6:9King James Version (KJV)

And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.

 Last few weeks I have gotten to bed after midnight and awake with early dawn (6am here in MT!). I get about two breaths and then baby starts crying for her morning feeding. I give her the pacifier to hopefully sooth her long enough to go to the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror with circles under my eyes and pray for grace; another day off to a start. Within twenty minutes of baby waking I hear the older two stir and I watch them sneak down the stairs and run to greet me, " Hi mommy! I sleep sleep all night!". Always so happy to see me, until they realize that they have to be changed before breakfast happens.

 In the midst of the chaos of our daily lives, our messy floors and cluttered rooms, I find myself becoming weary. I get tired of the long days and short nights. I get tired of the poop, puke, messy floors, constant need of someone to touch me. I get tired of staying consistent with discipline and hearing whiny voices. But in all the weariness I am reminded that I have been called to something greater than mopping up spilled juice. I have been given charge of three souls. Three eternal souls. Three souls that will be cultivated and shaped hopefully shaped into thriving souls of love, kindness, and joy. 

 So be at peace mamas. These long days and short-lived years with out little ones at home. The crumbs under our feet and the toys all of the floor are signs we are surrounded by love and devotion. When people come over they will see a house lived in and full of love and laughter.

 So do not be weary in well doing, for in due season you will reap joy and love and a friendship with your grown children. Don't be discouraged; for the God who trusted you with the souls of these children will give you the strength to carry on.
  

The Face of Postpartum Depression

This is the face of Postpartum Depression(PPD). This happy, smiling, live for the moment person you see hides the dark face of a monster many mothers face. One in seven women experience a variation of PPD; it can start during pregnancy and show up anytime in the first year. This is so hard for me to write. But I want women to know they are not alone.

PPD is like a creeping viper. It lulls you in a sense of security of good days and will strike without warning. For me it includes anger, depression, anxiety, and intense intrusive thoughts.
It started after Sarah's birth, and with each pregnancy and child being born it has progressively gotten worse.  Thoughts of the world ending and having to survive with nothing...worrying how I will feed my girls. Thoughts, endless thoughts, of them dying. Knowing I would wake up and find them dead in their beds. It is not something I can just "pray away", PPD is a serious clinical issue where there is a chemical imbalance in my brain.

After Natalie's birth it was the worst.
Her birth was beautiful and perfect. It was a healing cesarean after the traumatic one I had with Sarah. For two weeks, I was in a euphoric state. I was the happiest I had been in a very long time. I remember waking up the fifteenth day after her birth and I plummeted. I became paranoid, angry, depressed, anxious, and the feelings wouldn't go away. I was hot and cold. I would not be surprised if I was bi-polar. My mood swings were unpredictable and out of control. I lived everyday just to survive. I barely interacted with Sarah and Natalie. I didn't want to be around anyone or crowds. It was a very dark time.
I finally reached out and got help with a therapist who used cognitive therapy to make me work through my issues. I also got a part time job at a local store that got me out of the house one to two days a week. It worked wonders, but it never fully went away.
When I got pregnant with Reese, it was very unexpected. We were thrilled, don't get me wrong, but this time I wanted to be proactive. By 25 weeks I began having some intense perinatal depression and anxiety. This time I opted for medication so I wouldn't drop off the edge once I gave birth.
Medication managed it, and Reese's birth was beautiful and healing... but it didn't stop the viper from slithering it's way back into my mind.

By three weeks out the intrusive thoughts began to be very intense. The hardest one for me to even type is the worst one I have had yet. Reese was newborn, the girls were home, and everyone was crying. I sat down and just looked at Reese and thought, "If I could just cover her face with a pillow, I could make her stop". 
What? How could a mother think those things? You may be shocked to hear it, but that is just how nasty PPD can get. I immediately talked with my midwife and raised my medication dosage. I have not had homicidal thoughts since then, but the intrusive thoughts are still there. It is something you learn to manage.
There is nothing in this world I love more than my children, and I would never harm them. The thoughts I have are not exclusive to me. Most women with PPD have had thoughts like this, or in worse cases have carried it out because of a form of psychosis ( that is why my heart breaks for Andrea Yates).

There is such a stigma with PPD. It is ignored and silenced. We are told we are horrible mothers, or that we need to buck it up. We are told what we have doesn't exist, and if we were medically educated we would know better. We are told that no normal mother thinks of harming her child, and that motherhood is full of sunshine and rainbows. We are lied to.

We are not told it is OK that we seek help. We are not told it is OK that we can take medication to help calm our symptoms. We are kept in the dark for the most part, and told to hold it together. We are told we can't simply have PPD, because it is just hormonal and it will go away. PPD does go away, but not always quickly and easily.  PPD can rear it's ugly at anytime in that first year, and doesn't have to be depression. It can come in anxiety, mood swings, feeling overwhelmed, and longing for the "old days".
For many of us with PPD it seems like the days are long and the nights are longer. It seems like we will never find ourselves again and be happy. But I can tell you from experience that it does get better. There is life and an end to PPD.

Motherhood is not perfect, it is not sunshine and roses. It is a house full of children (or child) where your house is not spotless, there is always something to do, and there is always something going on.

Never in my life did I know I could hold so much love in my heart as I do now. Neither did I know I could be overrun by anxiety and depression either. Depression is an ugly bug. Just because a person is happy, doesn't mean that they always are. Just because a person deals with depression, doesn't mean they are not where they should be spiritually (a lie many of us are told).  We love our children, our husband, our God...but our thorns stick hard into our flesh as we trek along day by day, hoping and praying for reprieve.
Reprieve is there. You will find yourself again. God is able, and you are able to make it past PPD. You are not alone in your thoughts, fears, and anxieties. One in seven of us deal with this...so why aren't we talking to one another? Bearing one another's burdens, and lifting each other up?
There is help! There is hope. Reach out to a friend, a doctor, a midwife, someone and talk. Do not be ashamed to take medication until you can control it yourself. There is nothing wrong with you, do not be ashamed to ask for help.
I learned to not be ashamed to reach out. For if I am not taking care of myself, how am I supposed to take care of those God has charged to my care?

Suicide Prevention Lifeline  OR  800-273-8255 ;Call for yourself or someone you care about; free and confidential; network of more than 140 crisis centers nationwide; available 24/7

Follow This Link for PPD International, it is a great resource for PPD information and online support groups.

No More Yelling: A different approach to parenting

 "A soft answer turneth away wrath; but 

grievous words stirreth up anger" Proverbs 15:1 

 Parenting can be stressful. When I say stressful I mean some days you are ready to jump off the nearest bridge or hide in the furthest corner of the world. You live in a world full of joy, love, and wonder; but those feelings are mixed with feelings of intense failure, fear, sadness, and desperation.

 Parenthood does not come with an owners manual, and although we have the wisdom [sometimes unwanted] from those who have raised their children before us but it still doesn't help with every situation with our particular child.

 What I have learned in my almost four short years of parenting is that everything is that it is not what I expected. I have learned that each child is different, sometimes polar opposites, that what worked with your first may not work with your second or third (or fourth, fifth,..tenth..).  The one rule I had for myself before Sarah was born is that I would never yell. I hate yelling. Let me rephrase, I abhor yelling. Yelling makes me cringe, and I never wanted to have to raise my voice at my children.  That rule has been broken so many times in the last 4 years it isn't even funny.

 It is not that I intend to yell at them, I just reach the end of my parenting rope some days and it comes out. I open my mouth in anger some days and regret it instantly. In anger is not the right way to discipline. In desperation is not the right way to parent.  Both lead to mistakes and frustrations.

 As Natalie is getting older, we have had to start disciplining more. She has always been our "Little" and so her petite size often makes us forget her age and how smart she really is. Since we have been cracking down, every word that is opposite of what she wants to do leads to instant water works. Constant crying leads to extreme frustration and we have often reached our boiling point before the days has ended. Our response to crying has been loud stern voices, which only makes it worse. We also do 'hands on the wall'(our version of time out that consists of them putting their hands on the wall until the crying is done) and conversations, but they are not that effective with her.

 The turning point for me was last week when I actually got into a screaming match with Sarah. I won the battle of wills, but I did not feel I accomplished anything. I had stooped to her level in my frustration and made the argument into an argument. I am mom. I do not argue with my child. So to not argue I needed to stop yelling.  

 A verse came to my mind, "A soft answer turneth away wrath." OUCH! I had been going about it the wrong way. 

 So after that I decided to try to see if that worked. So over the course of the past week I decided to take a different direction. Anytime Natalie was doing something she wasn't supposed to, I would softly but firmly correct her.  To my surprise she would comply with a simple "Yes ma'am" or "Ok" and go about her business. Same with Sarah. When she would start talking back I would say, "Sarah, you do not talk back to mama. If you do again, you are putting your hands on the wall" and for the most part she would comply! What used to be a day full of stress and anxiety, is now a day full of quiet obedience. 

 You can have discipline in your home without the strife of a raised voice. Being consistent and firm are so important. Not fearing "my child might not like me". Sadly, that is part of parenthood. We are meant to be our children's parents not friends. Friendship comes later once roles and boundaries are established.  I do not tolerate tantrums or downright disobedience, but now they are not address with yelling. I approach it with soft spoken words and firm consistency. 

 I have still failed at least multiple times a day, but I have sincerely seen a huge difference in the mood of the household and how the children react to the parenting that when I lost my temper and fell into the cycle. 

 So as I continue this season of motherhood, I continue to learn and grow. Growing pains are not always easy, but to see the difference in your home and children are so worth it. 

Accepting Myself in My Roles

 I am a wife.

 I am a mother.

 I am a daughter.

 I am a friend.

 I am a sales clerk.

 I am a lactation counselor.

 I am a (soon to be) student.

I am a woman.

 Roles. We live in our roles every second of the day. Often wearing multiple hats a day. Sometimes these roles can become overwhelming, and other days some of the roles just fall off the wagon. 

 For as long as I can remember, I have stressed out about how I was in each of these roles. I have battled guilt and anxiety, feeling like a failure when I haven't met up to my own high standards.  The days I felt I succeeded as at work I failed at motherhood. The days I felt I had the mothering thing worked out, I felt I failed in the wife area. So how could I stop letting myself and others down?

  I grew up in a culture of women were just stay at home moms. I wanted to be that perfect stay at home mother/wife for as long as I could remember.  You know the one that has a spotless house, well behaved children, and dinner on the table before the husband returned home from work.  I did that while Sam was in the army, but I found myself feeling like I was not accomplishing everything I felt I needed to. Once Natalie was born, I got a job out of necessity. I had severe PPD (post-partum depression) and I needed an outlet. I needed to have some time to myself.

The horror!

How could I want to be away from my children and my husband? How could I be so selfish?

I soon discovered that I became a better wife and mother when I had time to reset myself. I have recently discovered that I am an introvert, and that it is normal for me to need time to myself to recharge. If I had a chance to diffuse, I became more calm and less overwhelmed. For the longest time I struggled with that realization, but recently I have come to accept it as who I am.

I am not a horrible wife/mother because I work. I have not forgotten my greatest calling and my first priority, but to do those roles to the best of my ability I need to be away on occasion. I am not Mrs. Pinterest-Betty Crocker-Queen of Organization-Crafty-mom...and that's OK.

I admire the women who are able to juggle homeschooling, cooking from scratch, raising children, and building a birdhouse in the span of a day. I admire your strength and ability to do all these things so organized and well.  I love watching how you manage your household and always find time to do something you love at home.

But I am not you....and that is OK :)

  If you come over to my house on any given day, you will not find a house ready to go in Southern Living. Quite the opposite actually. You will find piles of clean (mostly) laundry that have yet to be folded and put away and dishes in the sink. My floor may have been swept a few day (days) ago, don't ask about mopping. Dusting..forget it. 

 I would stress out for the longest time about having a spotless house, and would feel bad because I wasn't doing what I "needed to do".

 What I was really doing was sitting on the couch snuggling with my three girls. These girls who are growing so fast and every little moment is just so precious. I was throwing balls, making messes, watching movies, and making memories. 

 It didn't take me long to know that making these memories was so much more important to me than having a spotless house.  Is your house truly spotless with three children under 4? My house is clean, but it is never spotless. There is always something to be done, but I would rather be in the throws of three giggling girls when I am home while they still want to spend time with me.

 Letting go of my own high expectations has been liberating. I still clean and cook (sometimes, Sam has sort of taken that over since he loves it so much). Sarah even helps me clean, but if there is still clutter I don't panic.

 I admire women who can do it all without sacrificing time with their children. I love how some women know how to include their children in every aspect; that just isn't a skill I have attained and doesn't seem like it is coming soon. 

  I love working, and I am fortunate to have a job where I can take my nursing baby. I am fortunate to have a husband who shares the work load. There is no "woman's work/man's work".  We both share responsibilities in equal parts. For this I am thankful. I would not be able to be nearly as sane or accepting of myself without a husband who loves me for who I am; and does not expect me to fall into the typical female roles.

 So if you fall into the housewife category or the working mom category. Know that all your roles are equally important as your counterpart. You are not any less a wife/mother whether you work or not. Your roles are given to you and it is okay to accept yourself in the path you are in, even if it isn't living up to the standard you grew up around OR put on yourself.  We are all different. We are all given different skills and finding what works for you and accepting that will make you a happier woman in all the roles you are given.

As January Ends....

On January 1st I made the decision that this year would be the of growth for me. I have been so stagnant in my life since July 2011 that I knew it was a time for a change. I decided that it was time that grow as a christian, wife, mother, and friend.  So to do this I decided it was time to make gradual changes, and to make those changes I knew I needed to start nurturing my soul. So each month I want to look back and say, "Yes, with God's grace I have grown this month."

This month has held huge changes for me. For the first time in years, and I mean years, I have been consistent with my devotion time every day. I found an app called She Reads Truth where it is full Biblical Truth and nuggets of wisdom by everyday women like me. It has been so encouraging and I have found myself looking forward to reading God's word and reading the encouraging ( or convicting!) words of the ladies writing the devotionals. For years my joy has been crushed under the weight of anger, bitterness, and loneliness...and as I have gone this month consistently reading God's word, I have found I have an unending peace and my joy has returned. Our trials have not lessened, but I have been able to see the positive more easily, and have been able to have more faith that I have ever had before (which isn't much more, I still have a LONG way to go). 


 Another big change is that after many months of longing we are finally in church. We found our church home and have fallen in love with the people. The charity that the people bear for one another there and towards us is so evident, that it is encouraging. I have been so spiritually broken for so long, that just walking in and seeing a smiling face is so healing. I know they are humans, but knowing that they genuinely care is so huge to us. This has been another step in increasing my joy. We tried closer churches, and looked at closer church-schools for Sarah, but each time we visited elsewhere God has shut the door so quickly that we knew the only place for us is Landmark Independent Baptist Church.

Now that the positive is out there... I still have so much more room to grow.

I have been consistently losing my patience with my girls. Struggling most days to enjoy this current season of motherhood. Three busy little girls under four years old is so trying at times. Some days I long for bedtime before lunch even hits. I work every day, so they want to be with me so much when I am home, and at that point all I can think of is "please let me drink my coffee and have quiet". I struggle with having a girl who wants to express her opinion very frequently; learning how to curve her spirit to being productive, but not breaking it.  With all that said, I do have good moments. My house struggles for it. Truthfully, I would rather close my eyes and hold my girls tight so I can enjoy these days when they want to be with me. In February my goal is to prayerfully grow in more patience and love towards my girls. Knowing this time is so short, that one day I will miss it.

As a wife, I still need to learn to appreciate more and criticize less. Sam does so much to help me. He cooks, cleans, is in school full time, and watches the girls. I am learning to say, "Thank you honey for doing this. " instead of saying, "You missed x, y, and z.". No, he doesn't clean like I do, but he does clean. He is a wonderful father, and so much more patient and consistent than I am. He has been the one to push us to faithfully go to church every week. He is an AMAZING COOK.  I am so fortunate to have such an involved husband, so my goal in February is to appreciate him so much more-and not take what he does for me for granted.

I am human.  I am so not perfect, but I long to be a better person than I am now. I am so thankful that God's mercies are new everyday, and that I can let go of yesterday's mistakes and start fresh.
Growing isn't easy.
But the results will be worth it!

Some Days I Just...Cry...

Some days I just cry.
Why you ask?


I cry for the love I have for my children is so overwhelming some days it becomes tears of joy and love I cannot contain.

Sarah 1 Day Old

Sarah 3 1/2 Years

Four short years ago I was pregnant with our first. Sarah Rose would come to us early in the morning,  two weeks overdue, and change my heart forever. Love flowed from me as she grew. I watched as she was captivated by Baby Einstein's World of Color. Watched her crawl, walk, fall in love with her daddy who had been gone, and watched her change. With each milestone my heart was overjoyed and proud, but at the same time sad. Milestones meant growing up. Our baby girl swiftly was growing into a toddler, and soon a big sister.

Natalie 1 Day Old

Natalie 1 1/2 Years

 Two years ago I was carrying Natalie. Her pregnancy was the hardest emotionally. It was a dark and trying time in our marriage, but God gave us light and love in the little spitfire growing inside me. She came mid-morning after a healing cesarean, and I watched them bring this new squishy baby to me and I loved her. She was our tiny Little (still is) and as she grew her happiness spread to the rest of us. She crawled late and walked late, but her spirit was never diminished. She also took the roll of big sister well.

Almost 3 months ago Reese was born an hour and twenty minutes after her due date in our living room. Her entrance into the world was peaceful and calm. She is such a cuddly baby, and I now already miss the squishy newborn stage.

Reese 1 Day Old

Reese 2 1/2 Months

Some days I cry.

I cry because time is so fleeting and every moment so precious. My love is so overwhelming that most days I just stare in awe and the crazy little blessings running around my home.

Watching them every day grow and change, knowing this season of motherhood is so short-lived, I try my best enjoy every second and every snuggle.

Some days I feel like I will lose my mind. Some days I end the day with grief because I feel I failed as a mother. But most days are beautiful. The days when I set aside my housework when I hear a voice say, "Snuggle with me mama." and when I sit down my lap is suddenly full with three girls fighting for room.  The day will come when they no longer will fight to sit in my lap, so I cherish this time. This season is so brief.

I cry for joy when I see Sarah comforting and sooting Natalie and Reese. I see Natalie hold her babies and rock saying, "Sweet baby, sweet baby."  God is gracious by showing me a reflection in my children that I am doing something right.

 Some days I cry when I leave for work and they trail behind me and cry. Or when Sarah says, "I'm sad you go to work mommy." For they don't understand the sacrifice I make now is just that; a sacrifice. That it is harder for me to walk out the door than it is for them to see me leave. I want them to know that they can be a loving mother and still have a career if that is what they choose.  They need to see that with as much as I love them, sometimes in a marriage we give 110% of ourselves along with our husbands to make a marriage and a life work. If that means mom works some, that is is OK.  I want them to see that in a marriage you both sacrifice to provide, it is a team. I cry some days for the moments that I miss; but I pray my example will help them grow into confident women who can face the world.

I love my girls. They are my world. I am so grateful God saw fit to give me time with my girls. The tears I shed are not tears of grief, but of joy and thankfulness. It is bittersweet to watch them grow, but also the biggest blessing I have ever experienced in my life.

So I cry.

But these tears are not tears wasted. They are just an outward show of my love and how much I am putting into these three beautiful people....and one day these three beautiful girls will be women and mothers...and they too will understand why sometimes moms just cry.