It’s Been a Minute

I’m not even certain when the last time I logged on to this site was–I’m thinking it was at least one kid ago, possibly two. If that’s the case then we are talking 5-7 years of silence. It’s a shame that hasn’t been what my brain has felt like for the past 5-7 years. Silence is golden. Silence is rare. My thoughts have raced and huffed and puffed for what feels like a century, but in fact, it’s only been a decade. Having children changes your brain. It’s scientific fact, and I didn’t need to read a peer-based review to tell me.

Where and how do I begin to catch up on what feels like a century? I’ll start with child #3 and child #4. One of God’s greatest gifts to earth, GIRLS. I love them fiercely. The old poem quips that they are “sugar and spice and everything nice.” Mine definitely got a lot more spice than sugar.

Current job status–employed at a church leading little ones, specifically, birth to PreK kiddos. The kids are a joy. My job is a mixed bag. I suppose most things in life are mixed bags. It has heavy days, light days, in-between days, days where I question what I’m doing, days where I’m certain there’s no where else I’d rather or should be.

Current home status–husband, four kids, one dog, and a lot of noise, clutter, cracks, gopher holes, and sweet memories. I’m continually working on finding contentment in my home and not comparing it to the world of Insta.

Current dream–to pay off some debt, travel with our crazy crew, and make even more sweet memories. Perhaps I’ll write more often. Perhaps it’ll be another 5-7 years before I catch up. Either way, it’s nice to know this place is still here for me to pause and reflect.


My baby is a toddler and other musings….



I haven’t purposely taken a hiatus, but life has been nothing short of crazy. I was recently reflecting over the past five months, and it’s a miracle that I haven’t had to be medicated. 😉 However, as I began thinking though over the past two years, it really seems we’ve had a “charmed life” as my Memaw likes to say.

Since Hudson joined the world and became a part of our family, we’ve really had it easy. Sure there was a short, rough period of transition after he arrived, but he’s brought nothing but joy and calm to my life. From the day we brought him home from the hospital, I referred to him as my “chill boy,” and he still is (at least in comparison to his big brother). He still wants to hold my hand, give hugs and kisses, and even if he tries to wander, he always come running back exclaiming “Mama!” with the biggest smile on his face.


Today, he is two. He is no longer a snuggly, wrinkly newborn or a baby attached to my boobs hip. He’s an explorer, testing his independence, keeping up with his big brother, and holding his own in wrestling matches. I am so thankful for his presence in our family!


Roller Coaster

SO. I haven’t written in a week because the past seven days have been a roller coaster of emotions. I am not sure that I’ve had a more difficult season in my life, and I know I’m supposed to “Count it all Joy” (James 1:2-4) but that has been THE HARDEST choice to make.

Last Monday night or maybe Tuesday–my days run together–we got a call from our realtor saying our buyers wanted us to sign paperwork to release them from the contract. My initial reaction was shock and LOTS of tears accompanied by that lovely I-wish-I-could-go-throw-up-because-then-I’d-feel-better feeling. Thankfully, my husband and father had a much less emotional reaction and were able to calm me down. Twenty-four hours later, we negotiated some things in order to keep our buyers happy. Basically, we are giving them a little more money for closing costs and  had to do some more in the way of repairs/improvements. It’s funny how literally for 48 hours it was all I could think of–and yet now, it seems like it was weeks ago and things are moving along fine. HOWEVER, I will not be excited, celebrate, or spend a dime on a non-necessity until we actually hand the keys to someone else!


This last week has also been an epic disaster in parenting. One evening, the husband was gone and I attempted bedtime with the boys solo. Sometimes, I wonder why I even try? What would be so bad about letting the boys stay up all hours of the night? It seems that if I try the bedtime routines alone I end up hating strongly disliking the boys for not going to sleep easily and hating  strongly disliking my spouse for not being there and then hating myself for thinking such terrible things. I mean, people are suffering all around the world, but if it’s 8:30, and my guys aren’t asleep, I turn into a crazy person.

That same disastrous evening ended in a drive attempting to get the boys asleep, some crazy text messages to my man, and me apologizing to my boys for losing my temper. After my apology, rather out of the blue, my older one says, “When I get bigger we can get married, and you can wear a princess dress and have flowers, and I can have flowers in my big black pocket.” I’m always amazed at how easily children can forgive, forget, and move on to something else. They definitely point out my flaws, but they remind me of how blessed I am as well.

Hopefully the rest of this week and the weeks to come won’t be as much of a roller coaster…


Day 26: Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus {#write31days}

O soul, are you weary and troubled?
No light in the darkness you see?
There’s light for a look at the Savior,
And life more abundant and free!

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

Through death into life everlasting
He passed, and we follow Him there;
O’er us sin no more hath dominion—
For more than conquerors we are!

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

His Word shall not fail you—He promised;
Believe Him, and all will be well:
Then go to a world that is dying,
His perfect salvation to tell!

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

~Helen Howarth Lemmel (1922)


Day 23: When the poop hits the fan {#write31days}

And the bottom drops out

Weeping and gnashing of teeth

The pit of despair



Make a choice. When things don’t go our way, when things are depressing, worrisome, or just plain crappy, make a choice. I can choose to wallow in misery, self-pity, doubt, anxiousness, and despair OR I can choose JOY. I can live out James 1:2-4 and Consider it ALL joy.

Consider it all

We recently got a call from our realtor and our buyers’ buyers are not going to be able to follow through and close on their house; therefore, our buyers can’t buy our house. After literally FREAKING out and having a complete meltdown, I was convicted at just how easily my faith wavers. God is still in control. He knew before we even made a move that this would happen.

My hubby was great with me. He let me freak out, and then as only a man can, he suggested how we would “fix it.” He offered to take on a second job, work with his dad, or start driving a bus for extra money. We talked about me doing more photography or opening an etsy shop or adding things to my Mom’s booth in an antique store. We talked about what we can do without–no TV or internet at our place, no eating out, no Sonic runs, no extras of any kind. We prayed together, and gave it all to God.

I’m constantly reminded as I continue the unpacking process and face this whole we-still-own-a-house-and-are-renting-another, how much of it is just STUFF. It doesn’t matter in eternity. It’s not relationship. It’s not people. It’s not a legacy. It’s not giving God glory. It’s STUFF…{kinda makes me want to go on a massive purge}.

I could so easily dwell on worry—how will we pay for both homes, boys’ birthdays (along with TEN other family members), Christmas, etc. Will we even be able to come out “on top” when our home finally sells? INSTEAD, I need to focus on what we have to be thankful for–we aren’t homeless, in fact, we have two homes! No one in our immediate family is sick. We have good jobs. We have family and friends who love and support us. Most of all, we have a God who is Sovereign. He knows the number of hairs on my head; He knows my heart, my worries, my fears, and He’s going to take care of it all.

If anyone knows me well, they know I’m a natural worrier–I believe I come by this genetically. 😉 In all honesty, my first reaction to situations like this is not to pray or to say “God is in control.” Unfortunately, my initial reaction is to call my husband or mom instead of going to the One who knows all things. I’m learning. Perhaps, this is just another lesson in reminding me to do that–give it to Him.

And when the poop hits the fan….it may be messy, it may not be fun, but I have a choice to make, and I’m going to CHOOSE joy. I choose to trust God. I choose to give glory to His name no matter the circumstances. 

Day 22: He Knows {#write31days}

I’ve had Jeremy Camp’s latest song, “He Knows” running through my head. I’m thankful to know I’m not alone in anxious times. I know our “suffering” is so very minuscule in the grand scheme of things, but for now, things aren’t easy…more on that tomorrow.

He Knows

Day 19: Have Faith in God {#write31days}

Have faith in God when your pathway is lonely.
He sees and knows all the way you have trod;
Never alone are the least of His children;
Have faith in God, have faith in God.

Have faith in God when your prayers are unanswered,
Your earnest plea He will never forget;
Wait on the Lord, trust His word and be patient,
Have faith in God. He’ll answer yet.

Have faith in God in your pain and your sorrow,
His heart is touched with your grief and despair;
Cast all your cares and your burdens upon Him,
And leave them there, oh, leave them there.

Have faith in God though all else fall about you;
Have faith in God, He provides for His own:
He cannot fail though all kingdoms shall perish.
He rules. He reigns upon His throne.

Have faith in God, He’s on His throne,
Have faith in God, He watches over His own;
He cannot fail, He must prevail,
Have faith in God, Have faith in God.

~B.B. McKinney

Day 10: In Mourning {#write31days}

Last night, I sat on a blanket in our backyard watching the boys play, the sun set, the stars appear, and I let myself grieve.

I realize I haven’t lost a loved one, but this is a very hard change, so I’m taking the advice of a fellow #write31days blogger and allowing myself to grieve. I’m mourning the end of an era–I openly admitted this to my man and told him I know I’m being overly dramatic. However, that is how I feel. I sat in our backyard as planes flew over our heads and thought of how my boys have grown up in this house–I can remember bringing C outside on a blanket before he could even sit up and laying under the shade of a tree that’s no longer there. We’ve played catch, chased each other, played in the water, mud, caught bugs, chased frogs, laughed, and cried in our backyard. I will miss it. I will miss the boys pausing their play to watch a plane fly overhead. I will miss them running circles around the hot tub we rarely used. I will miss Izzy running back and forth, back and forth along the fence barking wildly at the neighbor’s dog.

airplanes last night sandbox

I am fully aware that great things are in store for us–and I wholeheartedly trust that we are doing the right thing, but that doesn’t make it any less difficult. I will do the next thing. I will continue packing boxes, and as I do, I am certain I will shed more tears. I will mourn.


Photos: these are far from technically perfect–iPhone photos taken as the sun was setting–however, they make this Mama’s heart happy. The first is my little man watching “airplane” fly over us, the second was taken on accident by C, and #keepinitreal, I had been crying both from sadness and great gratitude about our times in our backyard, and the third is where C would often sit when we came outside to play. I will forever remember our last night in our first backyard.

Day 6: Cry me a River {#write31days}

Pardon me while I spill my guts…

For the past 48 hours, I have cried at the drop of a hat. A nail went into a board crooked: sobbing. My baby fell asleep while rocking: sobbing. I looked at our pitiful dog: sobbing. Our three-year-old decided he needed to jump on my back without warning me: sobbing. Stared at piles of boxes in garage: sobbing.

It seems that e v e r y t h i n g has hit me at once. It’s as if I didn’t realize until a couple days ago that this moving thing is actually going to happen–granted something could fall through last minute. {Please spare me your horror stories of closing day catastrophes}, but it seems things are actually falling into place and we are moving in FIVE days. We don’t have to be out until the 17th, but this coming Saturday is the ONLY one between now and closing. AHHHHHHH. So for the past 48 hours, anything I see triggers a memory or some thought that leads to tears. Thoughts about how we are leaving the only home my babies have ever known, or all our Christmases as a married couple have been within these walls. These walls have heard the first giggles and first words of my boys. They’ve heard my cries of desperation during middle of the night feedings. And I am suddenly scared to death to leave them.

C.S. Lewis quotable

I know the wise words of C.S. Lewis, “There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind,” but if I’m being perfectly candid, that doesn’t help me not want to just curl up in a ball and cry. I don’t do well with change, but in the next five days, I’ll have to put my big girl pants on and “do the next thing.”

Any words of wisdom or encouragement regarding change/transition/moving?