Some days just don't go as planned

Some days just don’t go as planned.

Nothing goes right. Everyone cries. No one listens. Mom gets aggravated. Someone refuses to eat and then begs for snack later. The kids bicker and fight and don’t share. They wouldn’t listen to you if their lives depended on it (even though it usually does - see this parking lot? ).

Some days just suck.

The kids are learning. Every day they learn more about boundaries, rules, safety, kindness, what to do, and what not to do. Every day is an experience for them.

And Mama, you’re learning too. We learn every day. We learn what works and what doesn’t in meltdown mode. We learn how to make ourselves heard in the best ways. We learn when it’s time to leave something fun because the kids have lost it. We learn how best to communicate with our very different children.

You don’t have bad kids. You aren’t a bad mom. Don’t let anyone tell you either of those things. (And if they do, you don’t need that in your life. #bye )

If today was a bad day, everyone gets to try again tomorrow.

Every day is different. Tomorrow can be better.

We’re all learning. Remember that.

This post was originally published on Facebook.

Sometimes I forget I prayed for this

Sometimes I forget I prayed for this.

The husband, the home, the kids— this entire chaotic season of life.

I forget it when the days are long and all I’m doing is counting down until bedtime. When we’re on meltdown 27 of the day. When I’m so touched out and on sensory overload that I think my head might pop off. When Dad is out of town and I’m running this ship solo.

When all I really want is a break, I forget I prayed for all of this. The good, the great, the bad, and the ugly.

I’m really grateful the Lord answers prayers. Even on the hard days.

This piece was originally published on Facebook & has since appeared on The Faithful Woman.

I Want My Kids To Grow Up And Move Away From Home (At Least For A Little Bit)

I want my kids to grow up and move away from home. At least for a little bit. And not just away from the family home they’ve been raised in, but also away from the hometown they know.

I chose to stay at home and commute to the local college for my freshman year, and although I had a bit more freedom with my newfound adulthood, I still lived under my parent’s roof and followed their rules. I got married at the end of my freshman year and after a week-long honeymoon, we packed a U-haul to the brim and left the Florida Panhandle for North Carolina.mo

I was terrified.

For one, I had no idea how to be a wife (but that’s a blog for another day). And two, I had never lived anywhere other than my tiny, one stoplight town. I come from the kind of place where everyone knows everyone’s name, and their grandma’s, and what street you live on. I grew up in a special place full of family and community. I was loved, safe, and secure in my surroundings. I never wanted to leave, but the boy I loved (and still love) did and wanted to follow a job opportunity, so we hit the road.

I want to say I never looked back, but I did.

I cried the first hour of the road trip, completely sad to leave everything familiar and all the people I loved. I was scared to embark on a new adventure. What if we failed? What if we couldn’t pay our bills? How would I make friends? I’d had the same ones for over half my life. I wondered if I even had the capability to create a new community for myself in a place I had literally never been to before. 

I want to say I adjusted well and quickly, but I didn’t. I wallowed in self-pity for a while. I felt overwhelmed by the new, big, city I was in. I had no idea where the grocery store was, I couldn’t recognize a gas station, and I surely had no idea what parts of town were “good” or “bad.” The job opportunity my husband had there only lasted a few months, a summer gig for a college kid, and then we were back home to the familiar people we know and love.

Leaving everything I called home for the first time changed the trajectory of my entire life.

Finish reading this piece at Knoxville Moms.

God Knows What's Best For Us, Even When We Think We Know Better

This week there was a major brush fire on the road where we’re building our house.

Evacuations occurred and the surrounding area was closed off for a few hours. Thankfully everyone was found safe & no structures were harmed.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the acreage that burned. It was the property we wanted. We put multiple offers in and eventually just lost out. We were crushed. We knew it was THE place for us to build our forever home.

Had we won the bidding war, it’s possible the last 10 months of our home building would’ve went up in flames. Literally. (Luckily our soon to be neighbors haven’t started building their home yet).

Our half built house is still standing, entirely untouched just down the road on the land we ended up buying, by nothing but the grace of God & the manpower of some amazing firefighters.

It’s funny how God works. I’m constantly amazed by His omniscience and grateful He knows what’s best for us, even when we think we know better.

This post originally appeared on Facebook.

How I Fought My Joy Stealers: PPD & PPA

I feel like an imposter writing this.

Then I thought about how I saw a quote earlier in the day that said, “Somebody needs the part of your story that you’re ashamed of.”

And, well, here we are.

I didn’t realize I suffered with anxiety most of my life until after I had my son. I thought the way I worried and constantly over-analyzed everything was completely normal. Now I’m glad I know it’s not and I’m grateful I have the knowledge to help combat those thoughts.

Six weeks after I gave birth to a bouncing baby boy, we packed up and moved 10 hours away from almost everyone and everything I knew. It was a breaking point (but now I view it more so as a turning point) in my life. Postpartum depression hit me hard. I didn’t know how to cope.

Read the rest of my story here at Knoxville Moms.