It's April. Some thoughts...

On being a SAHM.
Whew. Maybe I should subcategorize this one. I wrote SAHM (which I hate the acronym anyway) and 6 thoughts literally flooded my head at once. Here is the first one. It's hard not earning an income or being on someone's payroll. Luckily my husband is truly amazing and doesn't ever make me feel like it's his income and not mine, actually quite the opposite. He talks about "our" earnings and inside I feel a little silly taking any credit. I've read those studies that say that a stay at home mother is worth upwards of 200k a year and all, and sure, that is encouraging. About as encouraging as being the stand-in-bride at someone's wedding rehearsal. So all day long I feel like I try to save a dollar here by drinking water instead of my beloved half and half tea and I feel giddy if I have even two coupons at the grocery check out. But no matter what it seems all day long we are spending, spending, spending. And it makes my stomach turn because at night when the house is quiet and lights are dim I sometimes actually go on the internet just to look for more ways to spend the money . (That's the problem in the first place is seeing OUr money as "ours." More on that another day.) Don't turn me into a reality tv show, people. I'm not confessing a serious problem, yet, it's just how our society operates. What else can we buy? As a SAHM who doesn't love an amazon box at their door every other day even if the contents inside are baby food pouches? So, I spend spend spend...swim lessons, we need new sheets, deposit for private schools, let's eat out - it's easier and no clean up (I'll pay alot for that!) and all the while I am also trying to feel like I am being a good steward of the money but it's just all too much. The two combat each other too much and leave me feeling silly and hypocritical. This morning I was on pinterest for not even 30 seconds and a friend had pinned "15 ways to earn money as a SAHM." I usually would think I would never ever click on such garbage, knowing that right now in our world of 3 boys under 4 years old I don't even have 2 minutes to use the potty alone so how can I find time to "earn money from home"? Anyway, 30 minutes later and 2 stinky, ignored diapers and a whole bunch of other messes and I am 24% into a survey about BIRTH CONTROL!!! Seriously, maybe they thought they found the right audience, a crazy mom of 3 little ones in 3 years but clearly - birth control isn't my thing. As the 2 year old was pulling out the tweezers and nail polish from my make up bag I realized this earning from home thing is ridiculous. So maybe I took a whole hour one morning to answer a bajillion questions about things I dont even care about (and really the whole time I was just bitter that they were advertising the PLANB birth control so lightly. As if the chance of being pregnant should be thought about so lightly as swallowing a pill? I just opened a whole different can of worms. oops)Only to earn maybe $2! Not even a latte.

I'll continue to wrestle with this I am sure until one day when I see a little check with my worth for the week on it. Maybe it's better this way. I know now my work is constant and it never ends and I know there are very little accolades for many many years to come but I also know there is nothing on this planet more satisfying than giving yourself up for your children. I know the grass isn't always greener and I am sure there isnt a paycheck out there right now that could make me feel as exhausted and as valuable as I do, at home, being a mom.

On Easter and The Bible Series.
I love how perfectly planned those media people are to have aired the final bible series on the night of Easter Sunday. I felt quite childish having to cover my eyes as Jesus was beat and mocked and the blood ran down his innocent body. How silly of me to not be able to stomach the agony? But I loved that on my television for two hours every Sunday these last 5 weeks the stories of the bible were unfolded. Our oldest was in the room one morning as I was re-watching one of the episodes and I could have frozen those moments as I saw his mind trying to come around this Jesus he was seeing and the one we talk about. These 10 hours of television have certainly brought a perspective to our home and a reality to the cross. Easter was something more for us this year and something much more real. We travelled to our favorite SouthWest Georgia town of Plains and attended Easter service with Brad's family. It was a sweet morning but how could it not be when seer sucker is the go-to attire. The chorus of 5 sang "Crown him many crowns, the lamb that was slain." It was perfect. I knew our home church, PCC, was probably singing the same thing at the Verizon Amphitheater, with 10,000+ seats. But thats just it. It doesnt matter where we worship or how or when, we should be all singing the same message. That Jesus Christ lived a perfect life, died a gruesome death, and it was all for God's glory. Yes, I reap a ton of benefits but the point is that God gets the glory for what He did to come to us when we couldn't come to Him. Ahhh....I love the freshness of this message in my heart lately. It doesn't matter when you first heard this it is still a life changing message everyday.
(The sweet sound a quiet car ride home. Not one peep for the 2hour, 43 minute ride. Beautiful.)
Not my most brilliant idea ever.

On sick boys.
We are going on our 11th day of someone's nose running. We've been told by schooled doctors that this annoyance is just allergies and it was, so we sent our kids to school and went on a whirlwind trip for 24 whole hours for Easter. But then came the fevers late Monday and the whining and the tears and the night time wakings. Oh, and now the rain. Bah humbug, right? Yes, I am feeling deserving of a vacation and a newspot on the evening news about being caregiver of the year but really I know this is our world. As moms, this is just what happens and though I feel like we aren't sick very often when it does happen it happens to the whole house and it knocks us out for what seems like a month. BUT...each of my boys have literally fallen asleep on my shoulder atleast once in the last 10 days and it is so delicious. That they could be so safe and comforted in my arms to just nod off is so so deeply satisfying to me. Yes, there is no paycheck that can replicate that. While I hope (pray, beg, plead, bargain) that they feel well enough to get back to our routine tomorrow, I have enjoyed being in the infirmary and I never thought I would say that as one who hasn't always been the most sympathetic one (sorry, husband, I admit.)


On my baby. Who.Is.Huge.
In some ways he won't grow on me. He can't crawl, loves pureed food, despite how much I offer him a plethora of finger held goodness. Cookies, chicken, carrots..he won't touch it if it isn't almost in liquid form. .And I have I ever told yall how much I don't like baby food. I just try to close my eyes and wake up when this stage is over not knowing what nutrients ever ended up in their bodies. Atleast this time around I am still nursing the HUGE baby so I think that counteracts anything damaging? Right, right? Oh, but one lucky day he did try some bites of chick-fil-a and maybe he was in the right mood or just wanted to trick me but I was a believer in his new favorite! Look how big he looks here....
He does clap his hands now and wave by-by to himself which is maybe the most adorable thing on the planet! But he likes to reside on my right hip in my right (bulging and gross arm. ALL DAY. EVERYDAY. I don't mind it a bit until you know, I need to potty, cook dinner, eat something, make a bed, wipe another nose, etc. I'm sure this is a phase and soon enough he will move on from me and be everywhere but right now, along with the above sicknesses, I am feeling just an ounce claustrophobic. And lopsided.


And a few more pics on Easter, sick boys, and stay-at-home craziness.

My mountain

I grew up loving this little mountain in the suburbs of the city. My love for running began there. Like, really running. Hills, and long stretches, and quiet quiet serene. You have to really enjoy running to run here. It's not the kind of run that might earn you some honks or kudos like running down Peachtree. It's the kind that impresses on you a romance for running. Not the kind of exercise you do for calories but for something so much better.

My parents didn't like me going to the mountain alone. Nothing had ever happened there but with its presence also came a little mystery. There were so many miles of trails....countless miles and infinite forks in the trails to take just winding through tall, weathered trees and an occassional rememberance of a fallen soldier from the Confederate War. So I never felt alone at all. I've never been scared there but I remember I always ran a pace faster when I ran there.

So most of the time I was alone on my mountain. There was one season in high school I visited the tops of one of the little hills leading up to the mountain with my high school flame. It was one of those places you didn't feel like you had to talk. If you timed it perfectly the sun setting over the tops of the trees and the distant call of the train were more than words anyway. I specifically remember many trips up the mountain in the late afternoons after a classmate and dear friend of ours was tragically killed. Her funeral was one of the more impressionable things on my faith but that little hill up the mountain is where I wrestled and broke and healed over her death.




A few Christmas's my dad gathered the troops, as I am the oldest of 4, and we all hit the mountain together. This wasn't the most popular of ideas among a house full of new shiny things but somewhere deep in me this was the most special thing under the tree. My siblings make fun of me to this day about how I euphorically recall these few hikes even when their memories aren't as shiny. Don't we sometimes memoralize the things that really get us? Those family hikes meant something to me that I wasn't certain of at the time.

My parents moved away from our home town when I was a sophomore in college. I would come "home" still on some weekends and I would always go to the mountain. I didn't have a home to go to in Marietta anymore but I didn't feel even a bit out of place rounding the end of the 5 mile run just as the sun started to bow and the trees had whispered to me the whole way. Exhaling so hard and feeling the cold burn my lungs all the way down to my toes. I can close my eyes and feel 19 so clearly. I wondered and questioned alot on that mountain and sometimes after some answers came I would sing aloud, too. It's like this place knows my whole story. The yucky and the beautiful.

Luckily years later my would be husband had a thing for the outdoors, too, and he even decided to train for a half marathon while running with me on those trails. Or maybe it was just to make an impression. Either way it worked. Since we have been married we have spent many long Saturdays allowing the woods and the inclines to witness to our needy souls.
Lately I have been getting to know my favorite place again. Anew. My parents now live so close to this precious place that I can't go visit them without making sure to have time to get on the mountain. This past Wednesday the trees and the quick switches up the mountain were just the therapy I needed. This place is where I can worship. Yes, I may really raise my hand on occassion but it's an even better kind of worship. Do you know that feeling where your insides literally dance? Where everything seems to be just for you? How among all of this can the Lord be speaking to me, too? And that's what draws me closer to God more each passing year. That the mountains and the burning orange sunsets can be in the same thought as me and my fragile little heart. Yet all of it is for His glory. That's the thread that has been the constant in my love affair with this mountain. God's glory. My joy.

Some needed cheer around here

We have the January-funk. Or by "we" I mean "me." The boys have traces of the awful sickness. Their sweet baby fine bangs are covering their eyes out of neglect, their clothes go on a 3 day rotation with a rare washing, they start finding crumbs and pony tail holders and kitchen tongs to use for toys, and they actually get tired of boxed mac and cheese. For me it's much more severe. I get stuck in the January rut and I just can't fathom that the sun will ever stay out for longer than 2 hours, and Christmas just seems so darned far away, and, I, too, go on more like a 2 outfit rotation and may even have been known to just turn some pants inside out to wear two days in a row. Eww. Things just start to get stale and by things I dont just mean food and hair but like my ambition and my optimism. Are you still here? You are a true friend because who wants to read about a whiney stay at home mom with major first world problems? Not me!

So in light of my church getting a hold of my icky little heart this weekend. I have decided to push out all of these cobwebs with worship. And by worship I mean this:
Worship is our response both personal and corporate to God for who He is and what He has done expressed in and by the things we say and the way we live. -Louie Giglio, Passion City Church

Further, he said, "There is a direct connection between our appreciation for grace and my expression of worship."

Ouch. My tummy just turned retyping that from my notes. Judging by the way I am living this week my worship is pretty pathetic which just means my gratitude for what has been done in my life and on my behalf is non-existent. This morning I woke up with this funk that I thought surely would have shaken by now but it was just there.....lingering powerfully over me. I decided to do what a wise man (thank you, Jeff Henderson) taught me to do a few years ago in looking at my "pillars of faith" to see Gods hand in my life but also to know He has worked and is working all the time.....even if the January's feel like they're winning. If I can better see what God has done for me not just in the circumstances of my life but in what He did for me on the cross then wouldn't my worship explode! I'm not just talking singing and going crazy in church (though that's surely a byproduct) as you may think but like the definition states....worship in the WAY I LIVE.

So, here are some pillars in order to turn the cloud over our home into a place of genuine gratitude and beautiful worship.

1)Brad. The one that gets me without any words and even at my worst. Worth the wait. Period. Thank you, God, the ultimate Romancer.

2)Sleep, sweet sleep. I'm kinda eerie when it comes to making notes on how this body of mine is doing. My apple calendar at home is full of every workout I may have ever done, every sickness I've ever even started to catch, every doctor's appointment I've had, and every pregnancy fact I never thought I would care about. When I look back at the calendar for 2011 it is stocked full of pain. Looking back I see that this "note keeping" only fueled the process. 9 out of 10 days were full of notes about how many hours I slept, how much ambien, melatonin or drug of the week I took that night, and any physical symptoms I was feeling along side of the severe exhaustion. Until recently I couldnt even look back at those long months and heavy days but as the months of better sleep add up and I get farther and farther away from that monster I am more able to look at the whole thing objectively. And goodness is God's hand all over that year! While the January-itis is heavy it doesnt stop me from thanking God every single morning for even an interrupted 5.5 hours of sleep. We have come a looooong way, baby! Thank you, my Redeemer and Healer.

3)Three energetic, edible little boys that always can get a smile out of me and a good belly laugh even on the worst of days. Each one of them has their own gifts they bring to our family make-up. The oldest boy makes me believe in love and all things good on this earth with his huge heart. The middle boy keeps us young and on our toes at all times. ANd the little guy, oh boy, he doesn't move yet but he just makes me relaxed. He is the one that set our house into pace of life that I love....much slower and less cluttered than without him. What a number these little people have done on my faith. What a walking display of Gods hand they are for me and Brad. Thank you, Creator of life.

4) And last but most importantly, the cross. This is by far the pillar on which all of the other ones stand. It is radical grace that God came all the way to me when I couldn't in my own effort get to Him. Thank you, Savior of the world.

And here are some pictures that surely turn my lemons into lemonade.













What are your pillars of faith? What can you look back on and know for certain that God was at work in your life?

17 days into 2013

And the only thing I know for certain is that the ground is wet.

I like to think I have the ability to dance, sing, or bake my way into happiness even after 6 days of rain but no amount of boxed cakes and new music can beat these winter blues this week. Excuse me for my little bout of SeasonAffectiveDisorder but I just can't take rain boots and drive through trips to the bank anymore. We are floating away here in Atlanta and with each passing hour of rain I think I lose a little more ambition to ever do anything more than watch morning television like I'm getting paid. I even considered calling in to the Kelly and Michael show yesterday....starting to feel a little too "close" to the only adult conversation I've had this week. And, I tell no lies - we have not changed our pajamas all week long. Day 1 and 2 of the rain were quite refreshing....laziness coupled with extensive time rolling on the floor with the babies and the excuse to cook soup and drink hot chocolate. But yesterday we hit a wall and the teller at the bank and my drive through laundry friend both refused to talk to me again on my 2nd trip of the day.

But......there are a few take aways from our week in the rain that I'll put down in the books.
*Our older boys are pure entertainment these days...for me and for eachother. Yesterday I finally went to check on them after surely more than an hour of quiet from the basement. They had made a car and of course the oldest was driving while the youngest was taking pictures of the zebras. They were driving to get hot chocolate they said. I was pretty sad to not have been included for the past hour because I shorty realized that their pretend world was way better than my 4th segment of The Dr's telling me about the flu epidemic. Then yesterday during the time when I had anticipated all would nap and I would actually find my way out of my pajamas, the boys instead played hookie from that desirable nap. They both stayed in their rooms thankfully (for way longer than should be allowed). This is the conversation I heard....{William} "Broooooooooooks! Brooks Bag-y-well! Wee-yum needs you! Brooooooooks!" The little man called his brother using his first and last name for maybe 40 minutes. The rule following, oldest child sat at his door and just repeated over and over "Lillam (which is William in 3 year old talk), I can not come help you. Mommy will get mad at you and you will not get to eat oatmeal and we will have a consequence and we will never get to go to grandmas or have treats." Geez! Whoever is the mama to these poor boys is certainly a little too intense! Anyway, moral of this story - the two oldest boys are certainly getting to that divine place where they LOVE playing with eachother, they are wildly imaginitive, and they don't always need me! If I could only now take advantage of these sweet hours of relief and get-something-done! For the love....





*Ironically, just as the two older boys are entering the world of childhood play, the littlest weeble is needing me to do things for him! Seriously, I didn't sign up for this. I signed up for a chunky, immobile, always happy, and easily entertained 6 month old. I was surely thinking as my 3rd boy that he would just jump into self care straight from the womb. Now I can barely walk out of the room without the chubster yelling for me. Literally. It's not a cry. It's a half grunt and half squeal that makes you turn around in your tracks and run to see what could be the awful matter. If I so as turn my head towards the terrible shows that have been on this week in our living room, the once-self soothed little boy stomps his feet, kicks his legs, and makes "that" sound until I turn to him and acknowledge his cuteness. What have I created? This all must be planned. I start to feel some breathing room in my daily routine and sure enough the littlest man, grows up, needs real food, and wants someone to look at him all day! (And all joking aside - I do love it! It just doesn't help my quest for even slight productivity.)







All this self sufficient talk has me sounding like a waste of a mother. That's okay. It's just the rain soaking up all of my creativity, energy, and ambition for things other than processed foods, reused clothing, and useless television. Yesterday I did hit an all time low. I will use this (not so forgiving place called the internet) as a confessional. Here's the gist of it....


I'm sure if the floods ever surmise I'll get back to those 60 phalanges that need to be tended to and I'll actually care if we eat something other than a carbohydrate (and I'll stop hiding in the bath tub) but for now it is still raining. We are still in our pajamas and The Dr's is about to start. Bring on the life altering information. Atleast we know what to do should anyone come down with the flu this season. And atleast I have cute rain boots.










Oh, and we did celebrate a birthday this rainy week so atleast we have 2 cakes to keep us going. The rain certainly hasn't stopped the aging process or our craving for sugar!

New year but no promises

As I sit down to write for the first time in weeks I realize that my time could be just as useful talking to my washing machine right now. I have become one of those half-blog-hearted moms that I used to resent. Resent is harsh but think something with about half that much intensity. Even two young kids in and I still found time atleast once a week to "commune" with the internet world but now 10 more fingers and 10 more toes under my care and I am one of "those" that get forgotten about after months of neglect.

I don't vow to write much more than I did last year but there is a small hope deep inside my warm puffer vest right now that maybe I will be able to chronicle these tales somewhere even if it's not always here. These moments with three little boys not even tall enough to ride the big rides yet are so monumental even in their own small way and I just have to be able to look back on them some how when Im more rested and less physically needed in a few years. With that little semi-promise being made I will also say this...It has been nice to start to peel my fingers off my grip on social media. I don't think I am any worse than the average conversation starved stay at home parent but my attraction was bad enough for me to want to do a little purging. It was after some well circulated blog that I read last year urging moms to look up from their phones and actually be present with their children (novel idea huh?) that it all finally clicked, pun intended, and I was okay allowing moments inside our young home to be just that - moments - and not tweets or titles of blogs or some status update somewhere. So I have certainly been a little AWOL on here but I haven't been sitting around catching up on soaps I can assure you of that. (Though I have been severely drawn to Sex in the City reruns these last few months because I think the first time around I didnt fully appreciate the fabulous character typing.)Anyway, I digress...

In complete random-Betsy-like fashion - here are some things I would like to consider doing (or stopping) in this new year and maybe some things that I just thought were fabulous about last year.

1) Can I get an "amen" to this in advance? MY CHILDREN ARE SPONGES AND THEY ARE TAKING IN EVERY SINGLE THING I DO/SAY/EAT/WATCH/SING/YELL/ENJOY/CRY OVER/DESPISE/APPRECIATE/OBSESS OVER and EVERY MISTAKE I HAVE EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT MAKING. So in this new year I need to get my act together just a tad. Christmas was a perfect example of this. I went into this gift-showering season feeling quite confidentally that our oldest boys still only knew about Jesus' birthday and had no desire for any shiny new toys. Sure candy canes make them perform any task I would like but the thought of ole St. Nick (I thought) had no power over their ever impressionable minds. Did I ever learn how wrong I was Christmas morning when our oldest bounced out of bed as early as I used to but barely after Santa had left the house and the dissappointment that boy showed that morning would cause you, too, to be considering a petting zoo for his 4th birthday party - just to make up. Santa didn't wrap the presents. "Why mommy?" Santa took au unopened toy that had been stashed in the way back of his closet for over a year and (so stupidly) gave it to his younger brother for Christmas. "Why did Santa bring William the toy that was in my closet, mommy? Will you go get my same toy that is up in my closet." {Eeek} Santa also didn't bring the poor-pitiful child the one item he had asked Santa for the 4 times his mama drug him to see him this season. "Why didn't Santa bring my magnet blocks, mommy?" {Crickets. Crickets. You, see, Santa, didn't really know that you would really remember what you had even wanted. I mean you are only three and you are as easily entertained with an empty box as you are a pet pony so Santa just didn't really go with the pony this year.} The bottom line is that once your child inches past that 2 year old mark you can't make up the stories you once made up and you can't slip the words you usually slip and you can't complain to your husband about how your neighbor was rude (and maybe some other words) because those little eyes, ears, and hearts are sucking it alllll up and it WILL come back to haunt you like when your 3 year old asks that neighbor why he doesn't have Jesus in his heart since he is mean on that cold Halloween night. Ooopsie.

2) I seek (not promise or vow) to juice my way back into health! I kmow I am pretty behind on this band wagon but I assure you we have made up for lost years of kale and rutabaga smoothies. My children BEG me every day for a frog-smoothie and I can't tell you how redemptive it feels to happily serve them up a little spinach, carrot, avocado, kale, apple, and banana cocktail. Seriously, it makes all the syrupy pancakes and weeks and weeks of peanut butter and jellies instantly vanish from my guilt thermometer. My whole family has eaten more green leafy vegetables in the two weeks since Christmas than in the last 4 years. We took the plunge and bought the 2nd most expensive "staple" in our house (next to the double bob stroller) and bought the super-duper-make-any-meal-into-a-drink Vitamix and we are sooooo glad we did! Let's just hope we continue to use this thing everyday for good reasons rather than sliding the smoothie setting down to the icecream setting and experimenting that way! We've also made baby food, soup, and mashed potatoes and I may or may not have tried to make a cake just to say I did but that will certainly go in the FAIL category. Brad says we should fry up some bacon and add it to my drinks because bacon makes everything better, right?

3) Sometime recently I also looked at that Guilt factor thing that I spoke about with the peanut butter and jelly's. It's a real thing yall and unfortunately something I have always done well. But I do have some refreshing thoughts about unneccessary guilt and I hope to see them playout this year. It's easy as a mom to fall into the same category with every other mom - the category of moms wanting to literlly be everything and do everything and make their own bread, too. Having our third child FINALLY freed much of my mind up from feeling silly guilt over silly things. I used to only take my kids to the gym nursery for 35 minutes because....well I don;t know why - so the nursery ladies wouldn't think Im a lazy mom always handing my kids over? Well, lately, I have finally started to let go a little bit and man does it feel good! Brad and I served at Passion 2013 {which deserves it's own post soon} this year and one of the things that stuck with me was actually from a Christian rapper - I never even knew that existed - he said, "If you live for peoples acceptance you'll die to their rejection." I don't know how this exactly fits with my guilt-ometer but it does. Half of my guilt is because I fear what others might think.....that I am lazy because I don't own a grass fed cow or that I am careless because my children don't know Spanish....whatever it is it's all silly and useless guilt. Luckily, our little chunkster sort of forced me out of this circle of guilt and I couldn't be happier for it.

4) Back to the social media revolt that is rising up deep in me is my desire to get back to note writing. In my corporate days I remember a man I respected actually calling me out in a team meeting for writing notes to others in the office. In college my dear friends and I wrote each other throughout the year and as you well know there is nothing like getting a hand written note in the mail. I still have notes my 11 years younger sister wrote to me in college when she was just learning how to even write sentences. I ordered my new stationary and I have a list going of the "just because" notes that I hope to start writing. 5 a week? That seems like a good place to start. Maybe you'll be a lucky receiver and if so, I urge you to pay it forward! I open my devotional (almost) everyday and have a note written to me 8 years ago about being positive. I laugh and cry about every time I look at it. My mom should be a motivational speaker when she grows up. (And obviously I should be on Hoarders!) But that brings me to my next un-promise....

5) Last but what probably would be first if there was any order to this little list is my desire to be light in this world.
“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.
Have you ever just listened to yourself throughout the day and wondered why anyone would want to be around you anyway? Sometimes Ill preface my little post-busy day rants to my husband with "Im not complaining, Im just saying..." Seriously! I can't believe he doesn't slap me right then! Last year I posted about the book One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. My take away from her book was to look for and even write down things that I am grateful for as it is the only way to truly experience gratitude. I don't know what my excuse is but somehow I guess I think being home with fairly helpless little human beings all day affords me the right to "just say" anytime I would like. Would you not agree that the most attractive women you know are the ones that aren't "just sayin" things for no reason. I can have a splendid day with the boys, enjoy a good run, the sun can be beaming, and my (tolerant) husband will come home to me giggling with the monsters on the floor and then Ill greet him with the list of things that went wrong or an even worse list of the things our house needs to be more comfortable. But then Ill always say - "no really, we've had a great day." Yuck yuck yuck. I hope I can look back next January and recall this as the year that I finally and seriously took control of my ungrateful heart. Even if it means writing my little daily joys down and literally zipping my lips like my mom used to say if I have nothing nice to say. The truth is - I have a treasure in knowing my Savior, and therefore, I want nothing but sweet words to come from my mouth. Words that might even show a glimpse of my heart that has been rescued by the only true redeemer. You can 'amen" that, too!

And a few more quickies
6) I VOW to keep my hands off my husband and maybe have our 2nd year in our 5 year marriage of not being pregnant!

7) Umm.....Budget? I loathe the word but I love the outcome. Come on, Mr. Husband, let's do this for real this year and experience the fruit that so many speak of when you really know where your money goes.....

8) Now that we are pretty back to cruise mode over here we are ready to have friends again. We hope to host and be hosted throughout the new year. It is so easy for us to say no to every invite and every uneasy thing and while we hope to protect our family first I do hope we can connect with our friends, new and old again. Though there aren't too many people that care to invite a family of FIVE over for a relaxing dinner we are happy to add your chaos to our chaos and pop open a bottle of wine. We have truly fallen in love with our new church and though we barely know too many people we already feel like a little family. We plan to make the effort this year to cultivate these relationships....and many others that have fallen prey to multiplying our family.

9) Sign me up for Hoarders for real! Christmas broke the camel or snapped the straw, whatever, it was insane the amount of items that came flooding into these walls! I may only have 30-45 minutes a day where little people aren't making forts out of every object in the house but I hope to spend many of those "breaks" purging every drawer and corner of this space and truly taking on a simpler attitude when it comes to "stuff." We really only need our double stroller, my Vitamix and boocoodles of Costco wet wipes to get by. The basics.

10) A friend recently wrote about reading 5 pages a day in order to read 9 books a year. I'll sign up for that. I want my children to love the classics but maybe I need to freshen up my appetite for the classics first? Maybe. :)

11) Eat at home more, people! This could contribute to about every item on this list. Yes, I'd rather over pay for a chicken sandwich than to have to clean up the kitchen again but can't we learn that three children, at dinner time, all not fully capable of caring for themselves just isnt fun and the tip we have to pay someone to clean up after us is just atrocious. For the love of all of my beloved and unused cook books - EAT AT HOME!

12) We plan to vacation this year! Woo hoo! Every year my selfless (and not much of a planner) husband has to let much of his vacation time go to waste. So far..... (keeping with number 6) we are not pregnant this year and unpregnant women are much more fun to travel with so grab your flip flops, baby, and let's live la vida loca. We need it! Our kids need it for us to be away and every once in awhile we can be even crazier and take the whole gang and make some memories. Let's pledge to not waste those days this year!

13) Which leads to the last and most important. We vow to hire lots of babysitters and I promise to not feel guilty about it because as many wise women have told me - babysitters saved their marriage in these early years and I couldn't agree more. My munchkins are my world. I don't put a thing in my mouth or attempt to use the potty without one of them questioning me so I think it is okay to have a little time for ourselves at night to just dream together. As I slowly get out of the post baby funk that I have been in the last 4 years I start to realize that I am pretty fun to be around and all of a sudden my husband reminds me of the music loving, outdoor guru, fashionably considerate hunk that I first fell for....and my goodness...it is so fun to be young and in love! BUT LET"S MAYBE TRY TO HAVE MAYBE JUST ONE YEAR WITHOUT A BABY. MAYBE? (Obviously, I say that giving God all the credit and all the control over that but just maybe???)

Cheers to a new year....hopefully a few more posts....lots of encouraging words, stock in spinach and kale , and a budget that alots plenty of funds for a babysitter!

A day in the life of....

I am going to start this now at 7:12am and see if I can finish by the end of the day. The Crazy boys are all contained or distracted for the time being so here is my first attempt.

It's amazing the thoughts and stories that come to the surface when I have the chance to write them down. All of a sudden I am flooded with the kind of gratitude you feel all over your body and out through your eyeballs and fingertips. Therefore, many of the posts here end up feeling the same... "life is crazy but so thick and juicy...full of yummy but fleeting moments." What's ironic though and quite exposing is that every day doesn't always feel that way. 5 out of 7 days end with me recounting to my husband the 3 moments in that day that everything fell apart. Like fully fell apart. I treasure my authentic friendships the most so I am going to give you some doses of that reality today. {Sprinkled with precious smiles from the three as the perfect reminder of their sweet sides.}


1)Monday a new friend with three youngens as well invited our clan to a book fair benefitting her childrens' school and the very school that if money grew on the rosemary plant next to me we would send our children. The possibility isn't thrown out the window or atleast it wasn't until Monday. We pray (and beg) daily for this door to open but I think after Monday the door could have shut for us for real. (I'm being a little dramatic.)

Anyway, everything in me knew this was a very bad, no good, terrible idea. I had volunteered all morning in the 2 year old classroom as the teacher's helper. I had already dropped a 2 year old polly-pocket type of precious pig-tailed girl in the toilet (not knowing a thing about a girl when it comes to the potty) and my very own glasses-wearing, heart melting 2 year old had all but sent me into the corner in tears with his horrific "my mom is in the classroom" type of behavior. Yall, he literally clung to my leg 1/2 the morning and while I was assisting the teacher I drug him around like a vacuum. If he wasnt on my leg he was slithering down the hall like a snake and never once did I see him walk or be-bop as most two year olds do. I needed a toddy by 9:15am...put it that way. So, the baby was tired from his day away from any normal nap (because he was worn on me in the baby bjourn the whole time the two year old was attached to my left leg) and the two year old really just needed to be home in an empty room for awhile....alone. But against my inner instincts we ventured to the book fair where the melt downs began.

The boys have never been in a book store, only a library where books are allowed to be taken away, read, left on tables, and mostly touched. We got there way early on accident - like 25 minutes which in toddler time is like an hour and 45 minutes. I had used my 2 diapers on my 2 year old that morning because the child who the teacher says normally never goes #2 at school went #2 twice while his mama was there. I guess he is more comfortable when I am around?? So since I used both diapers of course law would tell you that the little stinker would go again and by go I mean GO! Enter the principal and admissions director for said school to pick out their books to read to the polite little children who just left their manners-heavy schooling, clad with ironed uniforms and happy smiles. Oh, and my two tired, hungry, never been in a book store, and now stinky toddlers. Do you see where this story is going?

Now I know boys will be boys and toddlers will be toddlers and I am just sure that this precious little school knows the difference in my fairly un-schooled toddlers and their well-mannered 5 year olds but still.....it got so bad, yall. My boys just had to be at the front of the story time in front of a slew of sweet boys and girls and what felt like gawking parents. They had to complain about the story being read. My stinky toddler nearly sat on the principals feet to get close enough to see the story and then threw the fit of the year when a little boy sat next to his older brother. Like any mother would do - I bribed him with his big brothers candy cane that I was holding for him and instead of staying next to me to eat it he went back to those high-heeled feet and drooled nice red drool down her leg, all the while older brother sees his candy cane being devoured and loses it. LOSES IT. This is about 8 pages into the 20 page book. HE LOSES IT! Do you feel me sweating. I was literally because I had the baby in the baby bookbag again and I had yet to have a second to take my coat off. It was hot in there yall and my insides were stirring and cringing at the scene before me. Could I walk away and look for the real mother of these two obviously badly parented children? Could I bribe them again to please come with me and get out of the middle of the circle..away from the spotlight?

Let's just say we got out of there with not a hair of my pride left intact and way too much money spent on books just to hopefully glaze over the scene that took place and distract the store and the benefitting school from the zoo that had just exited the building.

2) And then later that evening I ventured to the gym for a quick 30 minute run-all-of-my-angst-over-the-book-store-dissaster run. It was healing even if only 30 minutes. As we all piled back into the car on the first cold day and aptly, the first day I realized all of our winter coats are occupying someone's lost and found, I realized that it was the night my husband said he would be home late...like after bed time for the boys kinda late. This called for a drive through dinner kinda night but as we drove past "the pancake place" aka the flying biscuit the boys squeals for special pancakes took over my logic. Luckily there wasn't another person wanting pancakes for dinner so we had the place to ourselves. Thus when the ornament bearing a candle crashed on the floor no one else heard it. Nor the 2nd one. And when the two year old poured the peppercorn balls all over his pancake thinking it was syrup no one was there to witness the defeat in my eyes. And luckily the scene that followed as I realized the boys had stuffed my credit cards in the couch at home that afternoon while I was feeding the baby and was just happy that they were entertained went unnoticed as well. "Umm, will you take a check for our dinner?" No, okay..."how about my Flex Spending Card?" "Can I wash a few dishes for you while you hold me three tired and sticky little boys?" Luckily, the manager was so ready for us to leave that he literally took an IOU and allowed me to call him later with my credit card info. I definitely spent more on the tip that night than I did on our 3 pancakes and eggs. My tummy just turned recalling that whole day. I'm just glad His mercies are new EVERY morning!So yesterday we awoke to a new day and we stayed inside the whole day! Lesson learned yet again the hard way.

3) Being a stay at home mom is certainly not all tennis matches and lululemon shopping trips after a coffee date at starbucks. Atleast it isnt for me. It's crazy mixed emotions all day long. Joy from seeing your children play with their plastic nativity set for the first time this season. To fear from then seeing your boy try to flush baby Jesus down the toilet. Gratitude while watching your boys, 14 months to separate them, play "Christmas" in the basement while you finally begin to unpack the 4th basket of cleaned and now wrinkled clothes. And then comes the defeated feelings when the same best of friends get into a pushing match on the stairs just to try to be first to the top. Didn't you just teach them that being first isn't always best and letting others go first is really the rewarding action to choose. Laughter fills our home each night as we watch these boys pretend and make up words for their little world. Its especially heart warming when they are all snug in their matching footie pajamas. But often in the very next moments tears can fill my weary eyes when the sweet bed time routine has turned into yet another drawn out battle of wills. This job is certainly not what I ever imagined it would be. It's not what my mom made it look like because let's be honest - from the eyes of the young child you never have true appreciation until you are actually in the drivers seat. Until you are actually the one awake at night thinking about the things you said during the day to the little ones still mendable heart. Or until you are the one actually seeing your child struggle to figure something out or rejoice when he has clearly amazed even himself. Goodness, if I could now years later truly give my mom thanks for the days and years spent at home, in a pony tail maybe having gone days with only conversation from the mouths of babes - it would feel so good. Now I finally really get it and all of the cards and presents I tried to gift to her over the years not fully knowing the gratitude they could represent would now carry so much weight. Thank you, mama!

So as you can see staying at home all day every day with your children can leave you feeling a little awkward when you finally get out into the real on-time, fully-dressed, paying jobs to tend to type of people. Saturday Brad graciously gave me the day to myself to get some things done. We have lived in our house 8 months and have yet to hang a curtain nor lay a rug. In the grand scheme of things - rugs and curtains are silly but when you have boys running around mostly nude most of the day a little privacy could be nice and a rug or two may help the immobile baby start to want to move. So, I headed out feeling a little silly. I had all this freedom and no real place to be, no one to be with and no budget or checklist to adhere to. I wound up at a fabric store in midtown. I spent the majority of my day away browsing the aisles full of color and pattern and with every rack my mind jumped from place to place in our home, which meant I really got nowhere. I couldn't focus nor did I have an inkling of an idea of what spoke to me. That very morning I couldn't even decide on the creamer I wanted in my coffee. Don't get me wrong - I think I know myself more than I have ever before but there is so little margin in my head to think about anything other than taking care of people so when I get the opportunity it's like my creative brain goes to sleep from overload. It certainly leaves me feeling like a cardboard box in a sea of freshly painted Van Goh's. Needless to say, I left 3 hours later a little defeated but certainly grateful for the time to just wander and dream. I went straight to the upholstery shop to turn the little swab of (plain) fabric I did find into some pillows. Sonny, the owner was a foreign petite little woman with about 50% accuracy in English. We had a 30 minute broken conversation about pillows and then out of nowhere the tears came. Seriously. I am crying on a Saturday in the pillow shop. There were Buckhead women waiting behind me to just pick up their treasures and all the while I am having a melt down with Sonny - my newest and dearest friend. As she could sense my frustration with attempting to decorating my house she goes into a half English version of her take on motherhood. I couldn't understand half of it but I understood all of it. Do you know what I mean? In a nutshell, she was assuring me that pillows don't matter. And bland walls and floors aren't important. All of this I know but yet it still tugs at my heart beckoning for me to pay it some attention on the rare occasion that my husband gives me a free day. Really, my free day should have been spent over coffee with a friend or hiking Kennesaw mountain...doing something that feeds me and allows me to feel like more than just a caregiver.



Pillows and rugs will have their day, Sonny says, but my children will be grown before I know it and they don't even care about pillows. I left the shop and my day away with not one take home but yet I did take away the best thing of all.....that grateful heart that I spoke about above. Yes, there is no time during the day - not any spare minute to be selfish. And yes, our house is a conglomeration of lousy art projects and pinterest fails. But there is so much goodness in my day. There is so many sweet things happening for the first time that everything else seems silly and useless.


I told Sonny she was hired as my pillow maker when I get around to doing it but in the mean time I would stop by for a pep talk every few weeks. It's amazing what a genuine conversation with an adult, albeit a stranger, can do for the soul. Much more than a boutique pillow I am sure.