Tag: blogging

Dream.

I’ve been really bad about blogging lately. I only wrote this because, yet again, it started out as an Instagram post and I got too long winded for their caption word limit. Anyway, I wrote this almost two weeks ago and I’m just now getting around to finishing it…

The stomach bug got sweet girl at the beginning of this week. It’s been rough. She’s already tiny (not dangerously so, don’t worry) and had just started finally gaining weight after being sick for what felt like most of fall and winter. Since November, she’s had some sort of viral bug, multiple colds, covid, and an ear infection. Now this.

Her room is usually the cleanest, most organized room in the house. When I feel like we’re living in chaos, I can usually go in there and instantly feel better. Well, between having to wash and change her bedding and blankets constantly, keeping the trash can close, her having small spurts of energy and wanting to read only to have to take a nap on my chest in the chair again… it’s A MESS. I walked in there earlier to grab something and thought, “This is an accurate representation of my brain right now.” I feel so restless. I feel like change is coming. I feel like I’ve got a million different things going on. I feel like a mess. But just like the fact that her room won’t always look like this, I won’t always feel like this. I know change is coming. I know God has plans for me, for my family… exciting, scary, wonderful plans. I just have to keep going, and to keep leaning into Him in the waiting.

The other day, I wrote out in the note pages of my planner, a plan. If you know me, you know I’ve never been a super goal-oriented person. Growing up in school, I was that annoying kid that all the teachers loved. I got good grades, I was quiet, I loved to help, and I never got in trouble. I was also that annoying kid that didn’t have to work too hard to get good grades. Most subjects came easily to me. But I absolutely dreaded when we would have career day or writing prompts about what we wanted to be when we grew up. I would always end up saying something like ballerina (although I had less than zero athletic ability, that’s nice and girly, right?) or doctor (because even at a really young age, I knew the grownups thought that was a good job because you get paid a lot.) I always agonized over these things, making up absolutely untrue reasons for my “aspirations.” I learned really early on how to say exactly what was expected of me and how to “B.S.” my way through schoolwork. It served me very well, even through college, haha. The point is, I’ve never been a big dreamer. They would go through this whole list of careers that we could choose from, and none of them sounded like they were for me. It sounds a little shallow as I type this out, but I can remember spending hours and hours pouring over my mom’s Good Housekeeping and Family Circle magazines. I just thought that was how life was supposed to be. Pristine home, home cooked meals, fun activities planned for the kids, family vacations, the works. I loved my family, and from the looks of things in those magazines, that was how you showed people you loved them: by buying the trendiest plaid couch or refreshing the drapes. Y’all, I know how this sounds. I know every feminist everywhere is probably crying right now, but I don’t care. I grew up watching shows like The Dick Van Dyke Show, I Love Lucy, Bewitched, I Dream of Jeannie, and so many more. The only thing that ever really appealed to me was being a wife and a mother. That’s what I wanted to be when I grew up. I know some people read that and immediately rolled their eyes. Some people have probably stopped reading by now, but hear me out. I’m not saying that any of those other professions are worse or better than what I wanted to do. I’m not saying that what I wanted was for everyone, because I’m not that naive, I know everyone is different. But for me, that was it. And growing up in the 90’s, I caught on pretty quickly that being a wife and a mother was not considered “a real job.” My mom has sold Avon for decades. When my sister and I were kids, she was a full time mom and an entrepreneur. But people still had the nerve to often dump responsibilities on her because “she has more time, she doesn’t work.” Um, excuse me? I take offense to this now as someone who stays home with a little and works from home. It’s HARD. It’s TIME CONSUMING. It’s absolutely EXHAUSTING. And just because my schedule may be a little more flexible than some does not mean I don’t have a job. I’m off topic here… anyway. It was obvious to me, even as a child, that I couldn’t express my dream of wanting to be a wife and mother without teachers trying to convince me that something else was better. So I just never voiced that dream. In middle school, we had job shadowing. We were supposed to go shadow someone who had the career we thought we wanted. This, of course, caused me anxiety, but I finally decided to shadow my aunt who was an office administrator at our local university. When I told my teacher who I was shadowing, she said (in the most condescending tone I might have ever heard), “You want to be a secretary?” 13 year old me felt anger for my aunt toward this teacher. I’m not sure I ever told my aunt about that interaction. But you know what? I did like working in her office. I liked organizing and straightening papers. The tiny teacher’s helper in me found it to be satisfying work. What in the world was so wrong with being a secretary?

Anyway, all this to say, the only dream I’ve ever had about my life so far was that I wanted to get married and I wanted to have kids. I remember planning it all out in a journal when I was like 10 or 11. I had each room in my future house designed and color schemes picked out (obviously my tastes have changed a bit and we didn’t in fact paint our bathroom lime green.) I had baby names picked out. I cared about this more than most anything, and I actually documented that dream. I planned for that dream. I hoped and prayed over that dream. And now, as cheesy and ridiculous as it may sound, I’m living my dream. I’m married to my absolute best friend and we have the sweetest daughter. And it may not look like a picture from a 90s magazine (or a current magazine or Pinterest or whatever for that matter), but it’s ours and it’s a dream come true. Never have I ever written out anything else in such hope. Never have I sat down and planned anything else so carefully. Until the other day.

A little (vague, because I’m not mentally prepared to be specific yet) backstory. There is something in my life that molded and shaped me more than I would have thought, especially in my teenage years. I’ve halfway joked for years about something related to that or thought that maybe in a different lifetime I would have done x, y, z. As the years have gone on, my circumstances have changed, I’ve grown and learned and lived, and that joke has become more of an aspiration that has seemed not very attainable at all. But quite recently, it keeps creeping into my mind. I’d love to do it, but I’d be scared, I don’t know where to start, I’d have to learn so many new things, it would be a huge commitment… The other day, I couldn’t concentrate on my work, so I sat down and just wrote the words at the top of the page. I looked at it for a moment, and then started writing furiously. I wrote down vague ideas and specific aesthetics. I wrote down goals. I just kept writing. When I finally stopped writing, I read over it and was more than a lot nervous about a) what I had actually written, and b) the manic state that I seemed to be in for a minute. I sat there and stared at the page, astounded that the words on that page had come out of my hand. Then I started to pray, confused about what had just happened. I literally said to God, “This scares the crap out of me. Is this actually something I can be praying over? Is this actually a thing?” And I immediately heard a “Yes!” What? I don’t know. This happened last week and I’m still processing it. But, you guys, it has to be important. I’m not a dreamer. I’m still that annoying, shy, quiet third grader who doesn’t rock the boat and has “simple” aspirations. I don’t do “big dreams,” so this is so out of character for me. It’s gotta be a God thing. And it’s going to be good. And terrifying.

Hello again.

Um, hi. It’s been a really long time since I made a post. Like, almost three months. I’ve not really had anything to say. I’ve been claiming to be “busy,” but now that I think about it, that’s not really true. Work is pretty slow and I’m in “catch up on background work mode,” which most days actually looks like “it’s nothing too urgent so I’ll play with my daughter instead mode.” I’ve been trying to just be more present, to keep my priorities straight, to put people before stuff, to live in the moment. But I’ve also not been going to the Word every day and as much I try not to base the quality of my faith on quantity of time in the word, I can’t help feeling guilty. I feel like if I’m going to be speaking to you on matters of faith, mine should probably be pretty solid. But honestly, my faith is a little shaky right now and it is all my fault. And I know it. So, I’ve felt like I didn’t “deserve” to come to you all. I know that’s not good either. I know I should lean on my friends and family in Christ during times like these. We all struggle. I know. I’ve told other people the exact same spiel. Uuuggghh. Accountability is hard. And I literally said to my husband the other night that I feel like exactly zero people care about what I have to say. Why would they? I’m just me. But then the very next day, God gently reminded me through someone I don’t even know that no matter how many people He puts in front of me, whether it’s thousands or just a handful, they are my calling. And so I must be obedient.

Anyway, even though the last few months haven’t necessarily been that busy, they’ve been hard. My husband had an especially frustrating and mentally exhausting time at work for a few weeks in there. I’ve been trying to be there for him, to be supportive. Something has to change. You all, we both feel like we’re supposed to work together. I know I’ve talked about this before, but it feels like it’s right around the corner. We’re both dragging our feet about it because we’re both a little scared, and we haven’t really gone to God about it together like I feel like we should. Pray for us, y’all. Change, even change that I want, absolutely terrifies me. All I know is that we both want to put family first, and the way things are right now, that makes it so hard to do. I’m so exhausted from feeling guilty about who is going to get the best of me on any given day. I feel like someone, whether it’s my husband or my daughter or my mom or my bosses or my friends or other family, always gets “end-of-my-rope stretched-too-thin” me. And that’s not fair to anyone. I feel like I’m in survival mode.

My husband and I went to a concert to celebrate our anniversary a couple of weeks ago. We drove to Florence, KY and stayed at the hotel where we stayed on our wedding night. (Neither of us really remembered the hotel very much even when we got there, haha. We were so tired on our wedding night and had to be at the airport the next day. It was all a blur.) We made a dinner reservation at The Melting Pot because we used to celebrate there all the time, but our local one closed. We had a wonderful fondue dinner and dessert, and I drank coffee after dinner because the opening act at the concert wasn’t going to start until 8 PM and mama had to stay awake. We drove to the venue and when we entered they were very strict about checking IDs and vaccination cards. That made me feel better. But, it wasn’t a socially distanced show, so the seats were full. I told my husband I was glad that we didn’t get lower arena seats, because they were all first come first serve and everyone was crowded around the stage. Luckily, two seats were empty in our row, so we got an empty seat on each side of us. But there were people directly behind and in front of us. I was a bit overwhelmed. I hadn’t been in a crowd like that for probably over two years. The only thing that made me feel better was that it was an amphitheater, so we had [a tiny bit of] fresh air blowing through the whole time. But it was such a good show. If you’ve never heard of Nathaniel Rateliff and The Night Sweats, look them up. It’s such a unique, vintage sound. And they put on a great show that was only the slightest bit rowdy, haha. We were pooped when we made it back to the hotel. The next morning we ate breakfast, checked out, then spent the afternoon at IKEA. We bought way more than we went for, but oh well… I got to eat Swedish meatballs.

On the way home I was talking to my husband about how much I appreciate these trips. This is the third little getaway that we’ve been able to have over the last year with just the two of us and I’m so thankful that we are blessed to be able to do so. We were walking through IKEA and I kept saying how much I missed our daughter. The same kid who the day before had me smiling through gritted teeth so that I wouldn’t lose my cool, I was missing terribly after less than 24 hours. These resets are so good for my soul. The time (truly) alone with my husband is so good for our relationship, not only as husband and wife, but also as friends. The time away from my daughter gets me out of the everyday and gives me perspective. The break in the monotony (as much as I actually like monotony) nourishes my body more than you can imagine. Just being somewhere different, seeing different places, even just for a day, is so refreshing to me. I love exploring with my husband – it’s one of my absolute favorite things. By myself? Not so much. At some point, traffic was terrible (if you live in Cincinnati or have visited, like, ever, you know that they are always working on the road somewhere), he looked at me and asked, “You up for an adventure?” He likes to find back ways to get where we’re going and sometimes they work and sometimes we get lost for a while. I smiled at him and said, “Will you be there?” He said, “Well, of course,” and I said, “Always.” I will always be down for an adventure with that man. ❤


As much as I love these trips, and as good as they are for my soul, I had a thought today. Sure, road trips, time away, concerts, good food, they can make me feel better for a while. But where do I turn when I’m in the trenches of everyday life? How do I fill my cup when I’m tired, when I’ve fought with my toddler all day, when the laundry hasn’t been folded and put away for longer than I care to admit? How do I get refreshed when there’s no getaway or vacation? God is there. He’s there all the time. His promises to me are the same as they were that day while I was riding in the car with my husband, and the same as they will be tomorrow as I’m filling up the dishwasher. God’s love for me is there. God’s peace is given to me freely every single day. God’s refuge and renewal is available to me every single second of my life. You all, do we really grasp that? I don’t think we do, or we wouldn’t strive so hard for “the next thing.” Life is hard enough as it is. Why do we insist on making it harder by trying to do things on our own?

Y’all, let’s be so incredibly thankful for the small (and big things) in this life that give our bodies and minds a reset, but let’s be infinitely more grateful for the One who can give our souls a supernatural peace and rest. Without Him, we are absolutely nothing.

When I thought, “My foot slips,” your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up. When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul.

Psalm 94:18+19

Mom guilt.


The mom guilt today is real. I usually spend all day every day with my sweet girl, but the last two mornings, I’ve had appointments and errands in the morning, and she has stayed at the house with my mom. I work from home, and I always struggle with balance, but today it was about to send me over the edge. She, for whatever reason, didn’t take a nap. She laid in there for over an hour just playing and talking, and yelling at me every thirty minutes or so needing water or her blanket fixed or to tell me she loved me. I know she was having trouble sleeping, and I felt bad. But, I never truly understand how much I appreciate nap time until she doesn’t take a nap. My nerves were absolutely shot. I was trying to eat my lunch and get some work done, and just hearing her in there absolutely wound up was stressing me out. At some point, she wanted to get up, but it was like thirty minutes until nap time is usually over. I tried to explain to her that she had to just lay there and be quiet until it was time. She just kept yelling for me to come back, getting increasingly whiny and obstinate. You all, I snapped. I yelled. I stomped. I acted like a toddler. I had to leave the room and compose myself before I went back in. I scooped her up and held her in her chair. I told her I was sorry that she was having trouble falling asleep, and I apologized for losing my temper. She apologized for not being nice to me. And despite the fact that I was stressed about only having done exactly five minutes of work, I just sat there and let her lay on me. We both calmed down, and we just cuddled until it was time to get up. I don’t know if she was just feeling like she hadn’t seen me much lately or what, but that was what we both needed. This afternoon was the same old, “mama, will you play with me?” “In a few minutes, baby, mama has to finish her work.” Sprinkled with potty breaks, reaching a book off the tall shelf every five minutes, her handing me pretend paintings that she has “made”, and some general distractions. When I finally came to a stopping point with my work (I swear, I never actually finish) we went outside and played. That was nice, and I feel like we both felt better after that. Ugh, guys. How am I supposed to do it all? Be present, be productive, keep the house clean, the dishes and the laundry done, exercise, plan and eat healthy meals, read my bible, spend time in prayer, carve out time for my friends, spend time on my side gig, have “me time” (hahaha), pay the bills, keep things organized?? There aren’t enough hours in the week. Oh yeah.. and I should probably take a shower in there somewhere.. I’m tired.
Today had good and bad moments, like all days, but those bad moments sure did beat the crap out of me today. She went to bed knowing she is safe and loved, and I know that’s all that matters. But, I’d so like to do better at the in between stuff too. I’d like to set a better example of how to react to things. I’d like to show her love and grace better. I’d also like to pee in peace and have a nap. Mama life is hard sometimes. Okay, all the time. But the (rare) hugs and kisses make it worth it. The joy on her face when she does something she likes to do is worth it. The wisdom in her tiny little head is worth it. And the hours upon hours we spend reading books is worth it. She is so worth it.
Also, my husband is amazing and supports me in every way possible. He helps with the dishes, does most of the cooking, comes home and plays with our daughter while I finish up work. He is so helpful and I couldn’t do this crazy life without him ❤
On a completely unrelated and shallow note, my bed is a mess (see photo) and it needs help. I think the price of throw pillows is outrageous, and my husband doesn’t really understand the purpose of them. To him, they are just something that he has to take off before getting in the bed. But, you all, I want our bedroom, especially our bed, to be cozier and more inviting. Any tips?

Year.

I’ve been trying to figure out what to write about, I haven’t posted anything to my blog since early November. For some reason, I just don’t have the words right now. I’ve been trying to live in the moment, even if these are not the moments I pictured myself having this year. I know this year has taken a toll on everyone’s souls. I know everyone feels heavy. And I’d like to say good riddance to this year as much as anybody out there. But, I can’t help but think that a number on the calendar is not going to change anything. Yes, we will be entering another year, but what will change from the last day of 2020 to the first day of 2021? What will change literally overnight? Nothing really. Just some number that we assigned to a specific amount of time. Maybe it’s a refresh that we need mentally. Maybe I’ll feel better than I think I will. But, one thing is constant and I’m so very thankful – God’s love for us never changes.

How precious is your steadfast love, O God! The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They feast on the abundance of your house, and you give them drink from the river of your delights. For with you is the fountain of life; in your light do we see light.
Psalm 36:7-9

Ugh. It’s been almost two weeks since I went to God’s word and wrote in my journal, and probably even longer since I actually talked to God. I don’t know what my deal is – this whole year has been a spiritual struggle. I think that’s why I was drawn to this passage as I read today.

I looked up the word steadfast: “resolutely or dutifully firm and unwavering,” “not subject to change,” “loyal,” “firmly fixed in place; immovable.” That describes God’s love for us. It is PRECIOUS. And the fact that time and time again I let distractions, lies, and apathy make me look away from this perfect love – that makes me angry. I’m angry at satan for attacking me, but that’s just what he does. I’m even more angry at myself for falling for the same old things over and over again; I’m mad at myself for not being steadfast, even when God is. I’m angry that I can’t stay focused enough on His perfect love to fully appreciate it. Thank God that His love is perfected in my weakness, because man am I weak.
God gives us everything we need and then more because he loves us. I love my daughter and I want to show her that love. Sure, I could cater to her basic physical and emotional needs and she would be fine. But, I want to love her abundantly. I want her to know that I would do anything for her. I want to make life beautiful for her. And that’s exactly what God wants for us. He gives us food, shelter, clothing, sure, but He wants us to live and love abundantly too. He didn’t have to give us the amazing amount of flavors and textures of food for us to subsist. He didn’t have to make colors or seasons or different hair types for us to live. But He did those things because He wanted us to see His beauty, His love for us. But, if we lose our focus, it’s easy to overlook these things, these “everyday miracles.” Only when we seek Him can we fully recognize His beauty.

In other “news,” if you’ve been following my blog, you know that a while back I put out into the world that I had been feeling kind of creative, but apprehensive about getting started. My sweetheart of a husband is the best. For Christmas, he got me a new sketchbook with pens and a tablet with a stylus. I made the pink graphic above using an app on my tablet and transferring my handwriting from there into an image I created on Canva.com. I’m excited to see what else I can do with my new toys. I’ve drawn more in the last few days than I have probably in my whole life.

Real.

I wrote this a few nights ago with the intention of posting, but I had a horrible headache went to bed instead. I still thought it needed to be shared.

Last night, I posted some pictures on Facebook with the caption “perfect night.” I was going to post this one on Instagram with a similar caption, but my app crashed and I forgot about it until much later.

Last night was really good. Our little family took a walk together, the weather was amazing, the sunset was gorgeous, my husband built a fire in the fire pit, we had s’mores, and did some sparklers leftover from the 4th of July just because. We came in, did all the bedtime things with baby girl, got her to sleep, and my husband and I watched an entire movie in one sitting – something that rarely happens anymore. Those are the kinds of things that most people post about on social media.

Gorgeous sunset!

I started this blog because I wanted to be real with you all. I wanted to put not only the good, but the bad and ugly of our life out there as well so that someone else wouldn’t feel so alone. No one’s life is as picture perfect as they put on social media, so don’t you dare for a minute think it is. What I didn’t post about was the fact that our daughter has been in trouble off and on all week, has had THE WORST time transitioning from pooping in diapers to in the potty, had slept poorly the night before, and didn’t take her usual nap at all yesterday.

My daughter woke up with a blood curdling scream last night as my husband and I were going to bed that scared me to death. She had been a little fussy when I laid her down, complaining that she wanted to cuddle me more even though we had already had her cuddle time. But, she didn’t fuss long and went to sleep. But, it was like she woke up, remembered she was mad, and just got madder. Our kid sometimes. She scares me with the anger that is in her tiny body. She screamed and clung to me for what felt like a half an hour before I realized that she wasn’t in fact hurt or sick, just plain mad. I tried so hard to be patient and reassuring, and I was the first ten times she screamed in my face, whined, kicked, and screamed. But, at some point, I lost it. I yelled back, she pushed me, and I swatted her bottom. I held her so tightly, trying to physically contain all the anger in her body. And then I felt awful for losing my temper. She’s so well-spoken and smart that I forget she’s not even three years old yet. I forget that she’s feeling big emotions and does not know how to control them yet. I forget that she doesn’t know how to react the way I am expecting her to. I started crying and couldn’t stop then- like awful, ugly cry sobs. She kind of calmed down and asked if I was okay. We talked about how when she acts like that, it upsets mama. I apologized to her for losing my temper, she told me she loved me and I reassured her that I loved her too. She calmed down and agreed to lay back down. I still think she thought it was almost time to get up, because she said, “I will go back to sleep for a few minutes until daddy’s alarm goes off.” She slept until 7 this morning, though, so whatever. Today brought more complete meltdowns and timeout. But, she did take a nap and then pooped in the potty. After that, it was like a new kid. I know things are weird and it’s really messing with her. The time change really threw her off too. Even though we tried to adjust her gradually that week before, she is still freaked out about it getting dark before she lays down now. She always says, “I’m staying up too late!” when the sun starts setting. I know she’s just two… I just forget sometimes.

So, the perfect, tiny glimpse of life I posted on Facebook was just that, a tiny piece of what had actually been going on in our lives. You all, nobody’s life is picture perfect all the time. Everybody’s life looks like a crazy mess, most people just don’t usually choose to share that part. I try so hard to remember this – to remember that I have no idea what’s going on in others’ lives. All I know is what they choose to share.

Tired.

I’ve been writing in the notes of my phone like crazy lately, but actually sharing it with the world has been giving me pause. Everyone is hurting, suffering, or at least dealing in one way or another with the effects of this pandemic. I think I feel sometimes that my feelings aren’t relevant or important enough, so I keep them tucked neatly into my journal and phone. But, I know that people need to know they are not alone. I know that I want to use even my hardships to bless others. So, here’s a compilation of a few things I’ve written recently.

You all, I’m tired. I’m emotionally tired, I’m physically tired, and I’m mentally tired. I go through these emotional highs and lows – I’m happy, energetic, and hopeful one minute [that resulted in me having what I called a “cleaning fit” this morning and cleaning like a mad woman for like an hour] and the next minute I feel like I might cry if you look at me the wrong way. On top of that, stress and anxiety weigh on our physical health anyway, but I picked now to try to get “healthy” and I’ve been walking and running almost every day for over a month now [I’ve also now added in some Zumba as well.] I keep thinking the soreness and general tiredness will eventually get better, but it hasn’t so far. Now my knees hurt so bad all the time that I wince when I walk. I think I may have [somehow?] injured myself [this finally got better!]. Add that to the every day allergies, stomach issues, and an occasional migraine, and I’m exhausted. Also, my brain sucks lately. I feel like I can’t concentrate, I often can’t think of the right word, and I get confused so easily lately [probably because I’m not paying attention.] Again, I’m exhausted.I know that everyone is tired. We’re tired of worrying, of making hard decisions, of being careful. We’re tired of life being weird. And I know parents, teachers, school staff, and all the kiddos are so super tired of adjusting to new normals. I know healthcare professionals, nurses, doctors, emergency responders, caretakers, they’re beyond exhausted. I know store employees, restaurant workers, small business owners are also exhausted and eagerly awaiting things to go back to normal. We’re all weary from this crazy season in our own ways. I try to look for the good in every day, I really do. But some days it’s easier to do that than others.

If you feel lost and tired this is your song.A few weekends ago, we cleaned out a box from the garage, and we found a boom box from my adolescent days in there. It’s amazing – one of those things that middle school me just had to have – you know, the early 2000s see-through frosted plastic. It’s purple. It’s great. Well, ever since we took it out of the box, baby girl was obsessed with it – wanting to know what it was and what it did. So, that Sunday afternoon we took it into her room, plugged it in, and showed her how it worked. I grabbed a CD off the top of this box of CDs that’s sitting in our dining room / office that we’ve never unpacked [🤦‍♀️] and showed her how to use it. It was a compilation of big band songs, and we had the best time. We all danced in baby girl’s room; we twirled, we twisted, we jived. It was so much fun. That night when were getting ready for bed, she told me happily that she had such a fun afternoon. Who knew that listening to big band music on a purple boom box would bring so much joy to a two year old? I love that it’s the little things that seem to make her the happiest.

Ever since that day, she has been very interested in listening to more music, so we’ve slowly been pulling out different things. I definitely got an eclectic taste in music from my dad, so we’ve got a little bit of everything. Tonight [after jokingly offering to put in an Usher CD… “Yeah!” anybody?] hubby pulled out a CD that I hadn’t listened to in years; but the second it started, I felt the familiarity and warmth that it always evoked in me. You all, if you’ve never listened to The Robbie Seay Band, you’re missing out. Their album “Give Yourself Away” is some of the best “non-worship music” worship music I’ve ever heard. It definitely sounds more mid-two-thousands than I remember, but it still hit my emotions the same. And as I listened to the words I realized how relevant the whole album is. There’s a theme of finding the good in the midst of the bad, praising God simply because He is God, and clinging to God and each other in times of trouble.The above quote is from the song Shine Your Light on Us. Here are the rest of the lyrics:

Oh, my God shine Your light on us
That we might live
And oh, my God shine Your light on us
That we might liveI’ve been holding on
And I’ve been holding onAll that is inside of me
Screams to come back homeAnd if you feel lost, if you feel lost
Sing along
And if you feel tired, if you feel tired
Sing alongAnd if you feel lost and tired
This is your song, yeahAnd I’ve been broken down
And I’ve been broken down
But I ain’t giving up
Love will come back around

These lyrics are good, but man, you have to listen to the song. The instruments, the voices… The emotion in all the songs on the album is simply amazing.My very favorite Robbie Seay Band song, however, probably won me over because it mentions coffee. Also, I just feel it in my soul. Like I said, I got my love of music from my dad, so maybe not everyone feels music emotionally like I do, but I’m so glad that I do. This song just hits me deep inside, I don’t know how to explain it… anybody else out there feel that way about a song?

New Day:I’m gonna sing this song to let you know that you’re not alone
And if you’re like me, you need hope, coffee and melody
So sit back down and let the world keep spinning ’round
For yesterday’s gone and today is waiting on you to show your faceAnd it might not be the prettiest thing that you’ll ever see
But it’s a new day, ah baby, it’s a new day
And it might not look like a beautiful sunrise
But it’s a new day, ah baby, it’s a new dayI’m a pilgrim soul, I’ve traveled far and come back home
And this land is hard and cold for those who long to love
And I know it might seem that the world is crumbling
But it’s me and you dancing in the kitchen at 2 A.M. and we’re still aliveAnd it might not be the prettiest thing that you’ll ever see
But it’s a new day, ah baby, it’s a new day
And it might not look like a beautiful sunrise
But it’s a new day, ah baby, it’s a new dayIt’s the calm of the storm that comes blowing in
It’s the springtime saying I’m back again
The clouds that roll by crossing moonlight
Me and you, love, everything’s alrightStanding in the rain with nowhere to go
Laughing and we’re spinning and I hope that you
Remember this day for the rest of your life
Me and you, love, everything’s gonna be alrightAnd it just might be the prettiest thing that you’ll ever see
Well it’s a new day, ah baby, it’s a new day
If you look outside to see a beautiful sunrise
Well it’s a new day, ah new day, it’s a new day

Beside the obvious mention of my beloved coffee, I just realized that there are probably several reasons this song speaks to me. For one, I’ve mentioned before on here that one of my favorite bible verses is from Lamentations 3 about how God’s mercies are new every morning (verse 23). There’s something that’s always been so comforting to me to think about that even though I really screwed up yesterday, I can start over today. Even though I was unfocused, rebellious, selfish, whatever, I can start again today. I have a chance to do better today. And that is beautiful to me, that God loves us so much to give us not just a second or third or even fourth chance, but a new chance every single day.I think this song also speaks to me because God has really been driving home the “beauty in the every day” point with me, in the last few years especially. The world tells us that life should look a certain way, and when it inevitably doesn’t, we get disappointed or we work even harder, trying to reach an unattainable standard. We waste so much time on ideals that we miss life. Looking for the extraordinary in the mundane, taking a step back and acknowledging the beauty in what God has created, appreciating the little things, seeing the blessing in the mess – it’s what makes life joyful.Lastly, I think this song does a wonderful job at addressing what we’re all feeling right now. I’ve seen so much good come out of this pandemic, but not nearly as much as there should be. The world is divided. People are angry. People are hurt. People are scared. And as a Christian, it’s easy to get distracted from what loving each other really looks like. The world tells us one thing, while Jesus tells us something completely different. It’s so hard to love like Jesus, but it’s something we all need to continue to strive for. We have to remember that each day we can start over; we can ask God to give us His heart for other people, and we can go out and be His hands and feet. Each day, even though the world seems like it’s literally falling apart, we still have each other and we still have God’s sweet reminders of His love. That’s what should keep us going.

Tithe

Last week was a crazy week. This week has been much more calm, and I’ve had some time to process. So, it all started two weekends ago, actually, when a car that we normally couldn’t afford showed up at my husband’s work (he works in the automotive industry) in exactly our price range. We had been discussing needing a new one in the near future – ours has the possibility of some transmission issues and our extended warranty has expired. We’ve always had issues with the air conditioning not being cool enough, and there’s no rear A/C, so it takes baby girl forever to cool down in the backseat in the summer. Plus, the paint looks awful (and I know that doesn’t affect how well the car drives, but it literally looks like I drove through an acid hail storm.) I did not think, however, we would be thinking about purchasing another one so soon. Anyway, this car turns up and it checks all the boxes on my “must-have” list for a new car: heated seats (we had these in a previous car and I miss them so much), heated mirrors, rear heating and air, and enough room for all our stuff – especially the mound of stuff we take on vacation with us. My husband inquired about the car and turns out, it was priced that low by mistake, but they’re willing to honor it. Well, that seemed too perfect. So, that night he and I discussed it, then I prayed about it before bed. I had a very clear dream that night that I asked God for a sign that we should buy this car, and He provided it. But, still clearer in my dream, God told me to give Him what was His first. We’ve been spotty tithers the last few years. At first, I blamed it on the new baby, then “mom brain” made me forget, but somewhere along the way I let it become of little importance in my mind. I’d give when I remembered, and sometimes not even then because we had extra bills that month or whatever. You don’t have to give me a tithing sermon, I know deep in my soul the importance of giving God back what He so graciously gives us. I just let it become a wedge. It kept separating me further and further from God’s plan for my life. It wasn’t good. Then a few months ago, hubby told me that our church was now doing automatic withdrawal for tithing. I know, it sounds sort of cold, but it was exactly the commitment and accountability I needed. I wanted to give, I just either let it slip my mind, or rationalized my way out of it when it came time to actually do it. I was not a “cheerful giver.” He and I both agreed that this was something we needed to do, but, again, for whatever reason, we hadn’t done it yet. So, when I had my dream, I knew exactly what we needed to do before anything else. Sunday we got the form and set up our tithes to be withdrawn from our account automatically.

Monday was incredibly warm for a February day. Our hot water had been running out pretty quickly for some time, so hubby went to Lowe’s and got an element to change out to see if that helped. Baby girl and I had already played outside, but daddy was going and she wanted to go too. I really had more work I needed to do, but I put it off until later and took her back outside (a 10 or 11 PM clock out time is pretty normal for me anymore.) Hubby got under the house and started working on the water heater. He came out a few minutes later and told me that the whole bottom of the unit had rusted out, and there was no way to fix it. My mind immediately started spinning. We had talked about, down the road that included a home improvement loan, putting in a tankless water heater. I start trying to figure out how to make something work, but my head just kept getting fuzzy. Too. Much. Big. Decision. Making. We talked about calling a plumber we know and discussing our options with him, but it was already like 5 PM, and it was supposed to rain the rest of the week. Hubby ended up finding a tank that would fit in our short crawlspace in stock at Lowe’s, so he went off to get that while I fed baby girl dinner. He got home and started working while I put baby girl to bed. I finally went out to check on him and I felt so helpless. I asked what I could do to help, and he said, “just keep me company.” There was a lot of crawling around in the dirt under the house, turning on faucets, and walking back and forth through the yard. My sweet husband was under the house on his hands and knees in the dark working so hard so that we could have hot water. He’s literally the best.

Tuesday morning baby girl woke up a few minutes earlier than usual screaming her head off. She had a stuffy nose, but other than that seemed fine. She ate a few bites of breakfast and said she was done. As the morning went on, I could tell she was congested. I called the pediatrician to find out the correct dosage for some benadryl, and we turned the shower on really hot and sat in the steamy bathroom for a while. When we got out, she really started acting pitiful. I could hear that she had some drainage in her throat, and she ended up gagging on it and throwing up. I thought that was all it was, but she ended up vomiting about 10 times throughout the day. She couldn’t keep anything down.

Wednesday she was almost more pitiful because you could tell she felt better enough to want to play, but she didn’t have the energy to. She barely ate all day, but did eat a fairly good dinner. We sat on the couch and cuddled most of the day.

Thursday she was much more like herself, with only a few pitiful moments in between. She still hardly ate anything. That morning I had so much energy. I changed the sheets and washed the dirty ones, started straightening up a spot in our bedroom that has been a mess since we moved here, did more laundry, did some proactive and productive things for work, did the dishes, and just straightened up anything else out of place along the way. I was so stinking productive. I was sitting on the couch working when baby girl woke up from her nap. I went to get up, and I noticed I was kind of sore all over. My throat had been a little scratchy that morning, but I figured it was sleeping with my mouth open. That afternoon, I could feel constant drainage running down the back of my throat, and it was getting progressively worse. By the time 3 o’clock rolled around, I was pretty miserable. That night I laid in bed and my arms and legs just ached. I could barely swallow and when I did I gagged on what was in my throat. My poor, sweet girl… no wonder she was pitiful. It was miserable. Luckily I skipped the vomiting part, but it’s now Monday night and I’m still not 100%

Sweet girl starting to feel better. Dressing up and a good book are a great remedy for the yuckies.

Baby girl and I stayed home from church yesterday so we didn’t spread our germs and I’m glad we did. She had a meltdown after she woke up from her nap that lasted an hour. I’m still not exactly sure what was wrong, but she acted like something hurt. We finally gave her some pain medicine and after it had just enough time to kick in, she finally calmed down. Even today, she’s had crying spells, she hasn’t wanted to walk much at all but instead wants to be carried everywhere, and we’ve sat and cuddled more than we’ve done anything else. I told my husband today that I’m not going to lie – I kind of like it when she starts whining [okay, I really don’t like the whining part] and says, “I need to cuddle mama.” There were months and months after she was born, maybe even a whole year, where she just did not like to cuddle. So, even though it’s not super conducive to me getting things done, it makes me happy to hear that she wants to cuddle. I do hate that it’s because she doesn’t feel good. We’re going on a week that she’s been off.

Anyway, we made a commitment to give God some of the money He has blessed us with, and look, satan immediately freaked out. He attacked us hard. Nope, I’m not taking that money back to pay for whatever you’re throwing at me. You can’t threaten me. I KNOW that when I bless God, a wonderful side effect of it is that He will bless me right back again. I have no room for your financial strains and sickness. Bye.

The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully… He who supplies the seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness.

2 Corinthians 9:6 & 10

So, obviously it’s Wednesday now…I started writing this last week and finished Monday. Word vomit. I think I write these things to process them, to kind of take a step back and see them from a different perspective than the one I have when I’m smack dab in the middle of it. Also, it’s way easier to recognize satan’s attacks when you take a step back. I think I also just want to remember these things. Broken water heaters and sickness are real life. It may not be the picture-perfect moment that I’ll remember 20 years from now, but it’s still our life right now.

Day.

It’s 11:28 PM and I just clocked out and laid down in the bed with my rice sock, because man do I ache. Today has just been a day. It’s been Monday. I’m exhausted.

I got so much done today… and still feel so very behind. Why are there not enough hours in the day to do everything? I feel like if I excel in some aspects, others get neglected. In a typical day, these are the things that I try to make time for:

• Breakfast

• Exercise

• Laundry

• Work

• Play + read with baby girl

• Lunch

• Dishes

• Bible time

• Dinner prep

• Tidying up

• Dinner

• Put baby girl to bed

• Time with hubby

I put out Avon books (which entails driving like 20 minutes out of town and putting books in paper boxes in our old neighborhood), somehow worked SEVEN hours, and did a lot of other things mentioned above. But I didn’t get to the laundry, and I neglected my bible time. The laundry can wait, I know, but not making time to spend with God is not good at all.

My husband is the best. I know I brag on him a lot, but he deserves it. He saw that I was still trying to work when he got home, so he packed up baby girl and went to the store to grab a few things we needed so I could work in peace for a while. I had also jokingly said I was craving alfredo, so he bought the necessary ingredients to make it and cooked it for me after baby girl went to bed. I don’t know what I would do without him. He sees the dishes need doing and does them. He cooks dinner almost every night. He helps me in so many ways and is just the best partner to go through life with.

I wrote this Monday night, but life hasn’t slowed down since. Last night I clocked out at 10 PM, so that’s an improvement, right? Working from home is not as glamorous as everyone might think. For me, it’s a constant battle in my mind between feeling guilty about not spending enough time with my kid and not being the best employee I can be. Ugh.

Also, can we talk about my husband some more? That night, he made linguine alfredo, last night he made hand-breaded pan-fried cod with fresh fries and mushy peas, and tonight he’s making steak frites. What in the world did I do to deserve this man and his cooking? Yum.

Um, yummy. I’ll just leave this right here.

Comparison.

We had baby girl’s birthday party yesterday, and were so blessed with an enormous amount of friends and family that came to celebrate with us. I ordered a cake from Main St. Bakery a couple of weeks ago, and I was excited to see what she came up with. Hubby went and got it while I put sweet girl down for a nap, then mom came and stayed with her while I went to church to set up. I was so happy with how it turned out. Her cakes are always beautiful, but this was absolutley gorgeous!
Could this be any more perfect?! I was in love with that cake! I didn’t want to cut it.

When we got home I posted a picture of it on Instagram. When I got back on later, I had a comment on my post from the illustrator of the Fancy Nancy books! She said it was brilliant, and I couldn’t agree more. Also, I was freaking out that she had commented on my photo! I may or may not have followed her immediately and now she probably thinks I’m crazy… but how awesome is that?!

If I’ve learned anything from Instagram, it’s that the world is actually pretty small, and everybody is a personal blogger. I see other people, mamas specifically (SO MANY), out there doing exactly what I’m doing, and I get discouraged. I start thinking, “she’s prettier, her pictures are more beautiful, her house looks like a magazine, she’s more outgoing than I am…” on and on. I fall down the comparison hole and it’s hard to climb back out. I wonder why anybody would care what I have to say when there are already so many “better” options out there. But then I’m gently reminded that I’ve been called to this. I don’t have to have the prettiest photos and I don’t have to shout louder than everyone else to be heard. I just have to be me, because God called me to speak in only a way I can, from experiences that are unique to me. And because He called me to this, He will be faithful to use what I’m giving Him; He will put my words in front of the exact person that needs to see them. He will use me if I get out of my own way and let Him.
For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God…
2 Timothy 1:6a

Cheer.

Bear with me, guys. I’ve been working on this particular post all week when I have time, so parts of the post were written at different times.

It’s the day before Christmas eve and I’m sitting here doing something I never do – holding my daughter while she takes a nap. She will be two next month, and I’m pretty sure I can count on one hand how many times we’ve done this since she started sleeping in her own bed at around four months. I don’t know if she’s getting sick, if she’s just growing, or if it’s simply the chaos of Christmas, but this kid has been out of whack for a couple of weeks. She whines ALL THE TIME (and if you know me, you know I can’t stand whining), she’s been sleeping way longer than normal at night, waking up later than usual (I slept in until 8 AM last Saturday – I literally haven’t done that since she was born), and being extra cuddly (which is so unlike her). It could be that her sleeping schedule keeps getting messed up because of various outings, or because of all the different and not-so-great-for-you food we’ve been letting her eat (like the entire snickerdoodle cookie she ate last night.) Whatever it is, she’s out of sorts. So, here we are, sitting in the chair in her room, all cuddled up in a blanket. She is still sniffling in her sleep from crying even after at least 45 minutes of sitting here. I feel bad, because I tried so hard to comfort her and get her to sleep in her bed like she does every other day. I told her no when she said she wanted to “cuddle mama,” because it has become to her a kind of distraction from doing things she doesn’t want to do. But, after her screaming uncontrollably for a few minutes, I couldn’t take it. She was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. And as much as I love cuddling this sweet girl while she sleeps, I don’t want this to become a thing. I don’t want her to learn to scream uncontrollably when something isn’t really wrong because she knows that eventually she’ll get her way. I don’t want her to think that she can’t fall asleep on her own anymore and undo all the work we did getting her to sleep as well as she does. Why is this so hard?

Cuddling my whiny baby.

Now, it’s 1:30 AM and I’m still laying here awake. I stayed up to finish wrapping presents and now I’m wired. Hubby has been complaining more than usual that he’s tired, and I can visibly see that he’s exhausted. He hasn’t slept well in years, and he’s finally got a sleep study consultation scheduled next month (after much nagging on my part.) But, I feel like his sleeping has gotten worse recently… kind of around the time baby girl’s started being noticeably out of whack. I don’t know what’s going on, but between all the busyness of the season and worrying about my people’s sleep, I’m not sleeping either. I keep hearing baby girl talk in her sleep or cry out, and, bless his heart, hubby’s snoring isn’t super conducive to either of us getting much sleep. We’re a family of zombies lately.

I write all this to say that even though sometimes we think people’s holiday season looks picture-perfect, it’s more than likely not really. If you look at the December album on my Facebook, it looks like we have it all together. In reality we’re all so tired, I have about fifty of the same picture on my phone from trying to get that one perfect shot, we’re doing the third load of dishes today and somehow the sink is still full, the laundry is piled high, I still have people to buy Christmas gifts for, I’m worried about us getting sick (there are SO MANY germs out there right now), and I’m trying to find the balance of handling all this and just living in and enjoying the moment. Those are usually the only parts anyone ever sees. But, if you’ve been struggling, you’re not alone. No one’s holiday season is actually perfect; we just have to choose to see our own chaos, whatever it looks like, as perfect to us.

My kid was SUPER over opening Christmas gifts.

I’ve been super guilty in the past of building up my expectations (especially holiday expectations) so high that they can’t possibly be met, and then getting so disappointed when my “plans” didn’t turn out. I think I did better this year. I’ve been trying to live more intentionally. I’ve been trying to enjoy each moment for what it is instead of what I think it should be. God has shown me a lot lately that my plans are not His plans, and that’s perfectly fine because His plan is better. He keeps reminding me, and I’ve been trying to do better about just going with the flow and appreciating the ride. Movie nights with hot chocolate and matching pajama photos are fine, but do you know what else is great? Reading the same book with my daughter over and over again because she wants “mama read again,” taking a different way home than you normally would so your daughter can see the giant blow up Santa on top of the government building downtown, late-night dinner and grocery store runs with your husband to get a few last-minute gifts, staying up late to make biscuit dough for a Christmas brunch with your family, and sitting in the quiet room with the Christmas tree all lit up.

The everyday, unplanned, and messy moments are the moments. They make up the majority of our whole lives. If we just keep waiting and wishing for those fleeting picture-perfect moments, we will end up disappointed. Our lives will pass us by without us even realizing it.

Making goodies with my girl. Glad her daddy caught this “picture-perfect” moment because it lasted about two seconds.