September 18, 2015


In this season of life and in this season of motherhood I want to pause for a moment and be candid.

If not for you my friend, then for myself so I can look back and remember. So I can look back and see clearly if I was crazy or if I have changed etc.

But this season of washing dishes, wiping bottoms, counting pennies and missing sleep is special and wonderful and.. hard. Oh so very hard.

I end most days feeling overwhelmed and scared. I feel like I can never catch up with life. Like the floor will never stay clean, my hair will never stay brushed. I can't accomplish projects, and my to-do lists grow and grow and I feel like day after day I sink a little deeper in the "not dones" and the "still to dos" and the deep vat of comparison.

You know the comparison right? For me it's that other moms have magazine perfectly clean homes, thin legs, work outside of the home and they don't seem to be as frustrated. I'm the mom who invites someone over and as they pull up in the drive way, I stir with one hand, give a dirty look to the disobeying child with another as I lunge to wipe crumbs off the table to make it all look less.... Less disgusting, less uninhabitable, less like I'm sinking deeper into the vat of "not dones".

Today I woke up and lay in the stillness listening to two girls bounce off of walls and giggle and in another corner of the house a little boy grunting and kicking. As I stared at the ceiling and thought of what I had to do I realized at that exact moment I did NOT feel overwhelmed and anxious.

I wondered at it for just a moment... It was just me. Feeling rested yet sleepy, and just.. breathing. Still. Calm.

No overwhelming, tingling, jittery nerves.

I moved to the baby's room and as I nursed him I thought of the reason.


Much of this season of life for me is thwarted.

My plans to accomplish one small thing (today my big goal is to look over a gym contract.. but good luck with that mom  of 3), are constantly thwarted.

And as plan after plan after plan get thwarted the electrifying current of frustration grows and zings its way through my body and heart til I feel like I could just melt into a puddle of angry tears.

The truth.

The truth is the gospel will only be as evident and active in my life as I apply it.

The truth is, all of my frustrations come from an idolatry deep in my heart.. a not trusting Jesus alone for my hope and salvation.

There is hope. This is a season.

But for the record.. it's just how I feel.

September 6, 2015

Dear Aylan

Sweet boy, my heart is ripped out of my chest.

I nurse my sweet warm baby and tuck my other two to sleep and they are the age you and your brother were just last week as the boat carrying you flipped.

At night I cannot sleep. Knowing that so many other babies and little "Aylans" are displaced, scared, hungry, afloat in stormy waters of a scary and unfair world.

As a child the world is black and white.

You should treat others the way you want to be treated.

That is what adults teach you.

Then you become an adult and realize that adults don't want to live that way. They are too busy being practical and worrying about the bottom line and politics.

People are too worried about protecting resources.

And I understand that so many people fear terrorism.

But seeing your sweet little body face down on the beach how could anyone not just see the humanity?

How could anyone not just see the little boy that was growing and needed to be protected?

To assume every Syrian, from the father trying to protect his family down to the wife desperately clinging to her hungry and scared children is a terrorist is fear based and ludicrous... If that's the case then all Americans are mass shooters or millionaires.

And we are far from it sweet boy.

We are also mothers and fathers. Little children longing for a bike and scared of the unkown, needing to be protected.

Oh sweet Aylan, until now I was completely unaware.

I saw the swelling problem as a backdrop behind welcoming a new baby to my home. And since 2011 it has slowly grown and the massive outcry from Syria is silently deafening.

I met a woman at the park last summer. We sat at the table while our children played and I could tell she was unsure of how I would receive her.

I tried to make her feel at ease and asked questions which quickly led us to her family in Syria and how every last member of her family is now displaced all over the world, Egypt, Germany..

We exchanged numbers though I knew she was about to go back and visit family.

And even now I haven't heard from her again, my texts unanswered amidst a sea of questions.

So as I lie there awake at night sweet Aylan thinking of your short life and your father's desperation and grief, I also think of a woman afloat in a sea of grief here at a park in my own town... Unsure of her nephews' and family's safety.

Sweet Aylan you woke a world and I hope somehow your father in all of his grief can somehow know that your life made a huge impact. The life of your sweet mother and your 5 year old brother as well.

Though short, your lives awoke a slumbering world to the painful reality of a crisis at hand.

Rest in peace sweet Aylan. You will be mourned by the whole world.

Read how Ann Voskamp has encouraged you and me to do SOMETHING. To care, to notice, to write a letter to Aylan.

A positive story of one man making a difference.

You can pray for thousands of refugees in Europe. Pray that are treated with dignity and respect.

See what Syrians are carrying with them across the sea.

5 Practical Steps you can take NOW

Get involved in Texas.

And lastly, THIS.. This is something I plan on doing.

August 24, 2015

Summer Colds- We are sick

This may be one of the less impressive posts ever.

But we are sick. This is Isaac's second cold and he's not 4 months yet. Not surprising when every sibling sneezes snot on you and insists on kissing a gillion times each day.

We're sick. Mommy can't sleep with a headache and chills kind of sick.


August 19, 2015

Selling Something

We're all selling something.

Sometimes it's the idea of a certain theory, or book to read, or political party. But we're all selling something.

The thing we "sell" to whoever has ears on their head, is something that we feel is valuable. It is something that has impacted us on a daily level and has made our lives better.

It may be a parenting strategy, a hair gel, or a special diet.

When I had to go off dairy with Claire I remember feeling less in a "fog". I would tell anyone who would listen how much better I felt despite myself. What I mean by that is I REALLY want to feel well and my very best while subsisting on buttercream icing and gorgonzola cheese washed down with sour cream. But the simple truth was living without these things I loved made me feel better. It really really did. And I just had to share it with anyone who would listen.

You can see where I'm going with this. (Or maybe you can't).

Our faith is valuable. We say it is the most important thing.

But it isn't something that most of us "share" convincingly and say how great it is and you just have to try it.

Sometimes I cringe and want to cry inside because I think why that must be.

Why would I be willing to tell someone who has gone dairy free before to no avail that they just really must try it again. They just must!

How and why could I be so bold about something so unimportant?

Why is it harder to share about my faith?

And quite simply sometimes it is that we don't believe. In principle yes. But in reality, we don't want to say, "Try this! It will change your life- I promise!!" because we're not sure.

What if it doesn't?

Who am I to say?

Am I changed?

The answer for me is yes. Yes I am. 

But just like going off dairy, after being back on it and undisciplined for some time I lost my passion to share about it because I was off shamefully buying thumbprint cookies at the bakery and throwing away the packaging before I got back with my family.

In the same way, my faith grows stale when I don't fall down on my knees and cry out to the Lord. When I don't cut out frivolous things and when I erect idols and alters out of foolish things like myself, control and enjoyment.

The minute I cut these things down I'm flooded with joy and peace that I want and must share.

I'm telling you guys.. if you haven't you simply MUST try this. And I mean it. You too will be flooded with joy and peace and you will just have to share it.

August 17, 2015


I'm tired. Like tired-tired.

Wake up in the morning, stumble out and find out from the family that the baby kept them up and i didn't even know it because I was too tired and slept through the baby crying off and on all night.

I mean... for a sleep deprived mom, you've come pretty far in exhaustion when you actually don't register the crying.

And it's my own fault. Stay up late to have time alone. Stay up late to spend time with friends, digging into our hearts and lives together.

But it's worth it.

But I still think I will go to bed early tonight... :)

August 14, 2015


In my little anger bible study I've already learned a lot.

Namely small things like, anger isn't love.

Dur right?

But it's been a big revelation for me. When I start to feel frustrated, and indignant my heart whispers, 'Anger isn't love', and I back off of my high horse.

I want to love my people more than I want to be right... That's for sure.

Also, I've learned that anger isn't the root of anger... Pride? Guilt? Fear? Control? Etc. Something else is at the root and it is likely a constant combo of soooo many different things.

So focusing on the anger and not being angry isn't going to help. But rather focusing on why I'm angry- and realizing it's not loving and not a godly response.

Already it's helped me to back down and stay calm when normally I would have been internally ripping my hair out and stomping my foot.

Today is a random, crazy, wild, unbelievably blessed day where EVERY tiny human in my house is napping.. What?!!

Also, today the girls were in the backyard and I heard the giggle... You know the one.

The very naughty-something-is-happening giggle.

Then I realized the girls were in the dog house (really a utility shed with a doggy door).

Claire said they were playing camping. And I said, "Oh don't do that!!! It's so dirty in there and there might even be ticks!"

Then she said, "But we like their beds!"



And at lunch she confessed that they both ate the dog food, and she ran her little fingers down her neck to show it going down and made a grimace then said, "I don't think that was a very good idea!"

Yep.. That was our day!

Here are some links I've loved today

She always has great links.

Piper on why you don't like other Christians. So good!

Best advice for new moms. (my heart was saying "yes!!" when I read this).

August 13, 2015

#3 3 months old And Other Happenings

This guy is 3 months old.

I'm so glad he's mine! He is sweet, cuddly and happy (now that I'm dairy free of course).

He smiles freely and coos. He even smiles for his big sisters now.

Goodness he's a warm, soft, baby smelling little ball of happy. Worth. Every. Month (of pregnancy). Worth. Every. Push too. :)

Love him!

13 pounds 12 oz.- filling out 3 months clothes and his little feet are threatening to burst out of his 3-6 month jammies already. Eek! My baby!! He's growing and going to be moving away and getting married before I know it! #exaggerationalert

With my other kids I got them on a routine and followed baby whisperer pretty closely. Morning naps around 10, then around 1, and  cat nap around 5. Never nursing them to sleep etc.

But I don't have the heart yet! I'm nursing this sweet little plump monkey to sleep and not caring when he takes overly long naps... And.. He's just as happy as he can be! 

He nurses late at night, is pretty flexible, and wakes up about once a night between 3 and 5. He sleeps in a while and is so happy.

In other news:
Big sisters at the park. I think we are working past some of the bumps from incorporating a new little person. The girls are playing so well together (mostly). Thank God! I've read some great books on anger, sibling issues etc. and have adjusted some things I've done which I think help.

Today I overheard Claire playing and singing, "Jesus is the boss! Jesus is the boss!" I took a mental note of how cute it was and went about my business as she sang on and made up lyrics (which she does often). Later I tuned in and she was singing, "I wish I WAS THE BOSS! I wish I WAS THE BOSS!"

That kid!

 And the little guy at church. ;) What can I say? I'm a grandma at heart.
Here is at 2 months old, and below at 1, 2 and 3 months.
(Can't you just see how miserable he was at 1 month?? He would wake happy, then eat and just spew projectile spit up out of his nostrils and little mouth like a gushing angry fountain then he would scream for at least 30 minutes. Poor thing.. :( If he didn't spew first he would look miserable and cry and scream then up to an hour later spew.. I've never seen anything like it...) And we've been spew free since I gave up dairy for good on July 16. Woot!
The girls at 3 months.. Claire on the left with her "What you talkin' bout Willis?!" look.

August 12, 2015

Make the hate stop

Do you want to know what I think?

Well I will tell you what I think...

The hate crimes, bigotry and general stupidity must stop.

While many eyes are trained on the horizon of global epidemics, war and politics, underneath our noses a putrid smell has been rising that can't be ignored.

I'm tired of hate crimes. I'm tired of young unarmed men being shot down. And we debate?

Even if they were doing something illegal or that seemed illegal the debate should stop. Simply put, of a different race those youth wouldn't be gunned down or harmed.

It's ludicrous and the numbers just keep rising.

Silence is the enemy and you are agreeing with it by not saying anything.

I'm grieved, ashamed and saddneded.

Today a family from our church, who has served our community so well, been so faithful and loving had a hate crime committed against them and for no reason.  Not just that but against their young son while he was throwing trash away...

Racial slurs painted on their dumpster right beside a swastika.

You may feel like the problem is far away but it isn't.

You may not fear to take your trash out or for your teenage son to walk home from school or even around the block- but can you imagine wondering if he could have a hate crime committed against him just for his color?

Not for an action. Not for any reason at all... but just for being there.

It has to stop.

Has to.

August 11, 2015

Uprooting Anger

Motherhood has been a shock.

And it's not just the "motherhood" that comes from bearing children physically, but rather the "motherhood" that comes from bearing them in day to day life. Regardless of if they are your biological children or are legally your children at all.

It's the guiding, correcting and loving unconditionally that have thrown me for a loop.

And sometimes, my frustration surprises me. It rears its ugly head when I don't expect it.

Today I was bee-bopping along, making a bed, picking up toys, doing laundry and actually thinking to myself that I really really enjoy being home.

Not just being a stay at home mom, but actually staying in the house.

I wonder about it because I'm an extrovert but there is no better day than the day where we go no where and see no one.

So I was happy. I was being productive.

I had let the girls go out in the heat for a few minutes before nap and the next thing I knew. BAM. Anger.

I had asked the girls to do something and it was like I wasn't even speaking. Which happens a lot. And sometimes I'm pretty calloused to it and don't mind and then all of the sudden. I mind.

Like my well-being depends on instant obedience (which is crazy).

I had just finished saying, patiently might I add, that were was to be no more in- and out. Pick one.

I had already been gracious, I thought, in the ins and outs while I objected. And yet here came Sophie in, yet again, mumbling about something and my internal top blew off.

And before the retort had even left my mouth I regretted it and could feel its foul after-taste.

Thank God tonight I'm doing something about it.

With a few friends I'm starting a Bible study called Uprooting Anger.

I can't wait.

Hopefully I will remember to let you know how it goes.

August 10, 2015


Motherhood is a series of never finished conversations.

This morning we braved the heat, I threw some bananas, raisins and crackers in a bag with some sunscreen and we were off.

The park was abuzz with strollers, moms and kids crawling all over  fake rocks and finding glass in the sand.

I moved from one conversation to another and was constantly interrupted with the realization that I hadn't seen one or more of my children for a while.

Then the head was bumped.. a hand came back "irty" with something white and gross all over it... A toddler was pulling her pants down to pee in the sand... Both girls were crying because other children were playing with their pails etc.

Not to mention the baby was either in the sun, sweaty, hungry or bored.

Between putting out fires, making sure everyone was safe and unaccosted and fed, the morning was a series of me interrupting stories, forgetting where I was mid conversation and even sentence...

And when we drove away with my head pounding from the heat and the children beet red and sweaty I leave with the half empty feeling of not one single conversation finished...

Man I hope this is normal!
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