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Ah, mom guilt! One of those sneaky little side effects that show up the moment you get pregnant. You don’t hear a bunch about it, and or course, it affects some moms more than others, but the bottom line —>it sucks.
Let me start by defining this phrase “mom-guilt”. I am not talking about having self-inflicted-guilt as a mom, because I think that is a given. We, as moms, have guilt over all sorts of things— some stupid, some not. This type of internal-guilt goes hand-in-hand with worrying. Worrying if we are getting enough veggies in our kids, or if we are correcting/disciplining effectively. Worrying if we put our child in the right childcare, and if we found the most-effective preschool for them? Worrying about if we responded fast enough to a bug-bite that got infected, or if we are putting our kids to bed at the right time. It goes on and on, and quite honestly is not fun to think about, read about, or write about for that matter. So, I’m not here to write about internal-mom-guilt. 

I’m here to write about the guilt put on moms by others. It is so common, and so natural, it may at times go unnoticed —by the giver and/or the receiver. I have to be honest and say that I guarantee I have put guilt on moms in my past! I thought I was handing out helpful advice, or thought I knew more (for some ridiculous reason). But I for sure have been guilty of this, as well. So my intent of this blog is to hopefully bring this concept to light a bit more, so that (1) maybe those dosing it out will become more aware of the affects of their “simple comments” & knock it off, and (2) those inhaling it will learn to let it go by knowing it is so common and all moms have to deal with it.

So let me start by saying, there can be malicious criticism of moms, and that is unexplainable… inexcusable. I mean, we all have a relationship with a mom for sure, and many of us are moms or are married to moms, right?? However, the majority of what I hear and see is not malicious, but rather uneducated, inexperienced, or good-intentions-gone-wrong types of mom-guilt! So to simplify my blog, I have put the different types of mom-guilt in 3 buckets: preggo-guilt, baby-guilt, and ongoing-mom-guilt! Let me explain:

Preggo-guilt: This is probably my most unfavorite form of mom guilt, and was obviously the first form I encountered. It amazes me how many people feel like they have the right to hand out criticism, opinions, and therefore, guilt, to expectant mothers. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I’m not a huge-toucher; it weirds me out if people touch me! So learning to cope with the random belly rub from a stranger was hard enough; I was really not prepared for strangers (and everyone else) feeling the right to question every decision I was making. I mean, you go from being a full-functioning GAW (grown-arse-woman), who somehow has managed to make it through the day safely and successfully without getting input/advice from anyone, (unless specifically requested) to now being apparently a toddler (the best comparison I can think of)—because people start questioning if you should eat that, or drink that, or carry that, or work, or play, or blah blah blah. And folks aren’t even sneaky when dosing out this form of guilt, they just feel the right to come up and say “Do you really think you should be here since it’s so hot? Or since people are smoking? Or since you have to stand so long?” To a non-parent, this may not seem like a big deal to you, but it can cause moms to stress out, and eventually causes them to take shelter in their homes as much as possible!!! To help others who may not have experienced this in their lives, imagine if you were leaving for work one morning and you go outside and someone is standing there by your car and says, “Do you think you should be driving to work since you haven’t rotated your tires recently?” And then as you are driving to work someone says, “Do you really think you should be in the fast lane driving the speed limit?” And as you are leaving work someone yells out, “Now make sure you don’t speed!” Although all good points, wouldn’t that drive you nuts? Wouldn’t that make you want to yell back, “Mind ‘ja biz-ness, got it handled over here!” It’s insane, and annoying, and the worse part is, it adds unnecessary stress to expecting-mommas. So, in my opinion (which isn’t worth much), keep your hands and your opinions to yourself unless you are specifically asked! You wanna help a preggo-chick, open the door for her, or let her jump in front of you in line at the bathroom! But if you see her crossing a line you wouldn’t necessarily cross (like eating a very dangerous deli-meat sandwich)—just leave her be! 

Baby-guilt: This one is a doozy too, especially on your first baby—-mainly because you don’t know what the heck you are doing! The advice comes at your forehead like bullets from an automatic weapon! Every turn, every family/friend visit, every shopping trip to the grocery, you are taking on fire, and can’t seem to find cover until safely back in your home! Don’t get me wrong, any new mom is also asking for help. But asking for help and in turn getting helpful advice is not stressful! However, if it took all morning for you to gain the courage to go to the supermarket with your new baby, (and coincidentally the only reason you are venturing out is because a friend guilted you into leaving the house), and then when you get in the produce section some sweet-looking-little-old-lady says, “Why in the world would you bring your baby to a germy place like this already… You should be home!” See this is where the craziness begins! People make you feel guilty about NOT doing X, you go and do X and of course, someone is standing there smiling, handing out free samples of guilt for doing X. Mommas, at some point you have to just go with your gut! Folks—if you wanna help a new momma out, tell her her baby is beautiful, let her cut in line at the grocery to get out of the line of fire, and keep your oh-so-helpful advice to yourself! 
Ongoing-momma-guilt: Now, since I am no-longer preggers, and I’m not a new-mom, I currently reside in this guilt-zone! And although people still give unwanted advice, it is usually much less frequent. But now, in this fun-guilt-zone you get to enjoy bold-judgmental comments to your face, behind your back, or on FB! I have so many examples of this, I think it would be easier/quicker to just list them out:
(a) PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE PUBLIC-SHAMING: This would be the eye-rolls you get at restaurants, stores, or church, if you do ANYTHING that is in the eye-rollers’ eyes as wrong (see what I did there, eye-rollers’ eyes, ?). This could include letting your child talk too loud/cry/act out, disciplining your child, not disciplining your child, etc. ANYTHING AT ALL. People, give me a break! I guarantee you the most uncomfortable person there is that mom. So chill out, and help her out by acting like it’s not phasing you!
(b) WORK-SHAMING: People (including fellow-moms) love to dose out opinions on if a mom should work or not. I guarantee, out of all the decisions in life that you have to make, this one is the hardest for a mom. There are so many variables and questions with the right path (too many to go into), but the one thing you should know is it’s the decision for the mom/dad. Period. And no decision is the right one, it just is what it is. I recently went back to work, part time, after debating this for a long time. And it is a scary decision; lots of pros and cons for your life, your marriage, and your family. I was impressed with my company working this part time option for me—and I felt very blessed. Most of my coworkers have given me encouragement for coming back and choosing the path I have chosen, to work less than full time while my kids are young. However, unfortunately I have also been handed a bit of mom-guilt from my coworkers, as well—something I wasn’t expecting since the corporate policy allows for this work option. But, oh no, this fun guilt arrived on my doorstep, nicely wrapped in half-joking comments like, “Wow, you used to be so driven, what happened?” and, “So how long you gonna do this part time thing, I mean don’t you think other people would love to get this time off too?”… And of course, I was handed the flip side comments like, “I can’t believe you came back when they are so young?” Seems like our corporations are coming around quicker than our people are, sadly enough. 
(c) THE CORRECTING-YOUR-CHILD “FRIEND”: Ummmm. Don’t correct other people’s kids, especially in front of them. Clearly I’m not talking about a safety-issue. If my child is running towards the street, by all means, help a momma out and snatch my child up by the scruff of their neck! But if you don’t like my kid chewing out loud, or interrupting, or playing too rough with your kid, deal with it or move somewhere else. There is no quicker way to voice your mom-guilt towards me then telling my child to stop running, or stop talking, or stop yelling? Not to mention that in many cases you will correct the child in wrong way and cause worse behavior. For example my 3 year old will do whatever you tell her not to do. So I had someone at a work function (big audience) tell her once, “Don’t hit your sister with that cup”…. Well that was immediately followed with a crack to her baby-sister’s head. I would never have corrected her that way, and we would have avoided that injury. So if you aren’t the parent, politely buzz off?
 (d) THE-I-AM-SO-TOUGH-BEHIND-MY-COMPUTER-SCREEN ATTACK: And lastly, the ridiculous comments on media about parenting! This really showed its ugly head during the recent-gorilla-scandal, and this week the alligator-story. I was truly sickened by the immediate judgement and comments made by people/fellow moms/”friends”, blaming the mom. Sadly, with no facts on what the mom did or didn’t do. This is mom-guilt at its core, raw state. I hate to think about how many moms read all the ignorant, and again uneducated/inexperienced comments, and thought, “Oh my goodness, I better get a leash for my kid when I go to the zoo… I had no idea that many people were watching and judging my parenting”. Honestly folks, if you are a parent and you judged that mom, shame on you. There is no way you ever got through raising a child without many scary moments where you turned your head and something bad happened, or almost happened. So go home to your glass house and hang out there for awhile, because you aren’t welcome in my tribe of forgivers & supporters. If you are a non-parent, making judgment, well you should really stand back and take a good look at yourself. Because making judgment on that mom, when you have never filled her shoes, is just silly and insulting. It’s like judging the struggles of alcoholic when you don’t drink, or judging someone’s life when they work shift-work if you never have! You just won’t get it. Ever. So please stop if you are one of these people! It’s completely ridiculous. 

Wow, I feel adrenaline rushing through my body, on that final note! A clear sign of a passionate blog! So I guess to wrap this baby up (pun fully-intended), please be kind to moms (well, really everyone). There is so much additional responsibility when ladies take on this role, let’s try to not be the straw that breaks their backs, but instead the village that lifts them and their family up?

I have often described divorce to my family and friends in this way:

Picture yourself on a ship in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. There is a fire on the ship, and it is sinking. In order to save yourself you jump overboard, and sink to great depths in the ocean. After awhile, you finally have the strength to start swimming toward the surface. You can see a tiny light on the surface of the water, but the water is so turbulent due to the sinking ship you are struggling to move toward the light. However, despite the light being so far away, you keep swimming toward it. You are running out of breath and energy, so you grab ahold of other people in the water, slowly pulling yourself closer and closer to the surface. Sadly, sometimes you push those that help you further down into the darkness in order to spring off of them towards the surface. Once you reach the surface, you take a huge gasp of air. You realize you aren’t safe yet, because you are alone, exhausted, and scared in the middle of the ocean. And although you can finally breathe, you still have thousands of miles to swim before you get to safe, dry land.

Here is my very own personal tragic story of divorce.

Yes, I effectively earned a divorce 6 years ago. Earning it was not easy. It took years of bad decisions and behavior to lead up to it, but I finally nailed it.  

It has taken me this long to write the story of what happened, but I’m hoping by me blogging about it, it will bring another layer of closure to this open wound in my soul, and potentially touch others who are going through something similar.

I enjoyed my childhood. My childhood was filled with almost all happy memories, successes, and accomplishments. I was someone that loved to have lots of friends, be involved in lots of activities, and keep most friendships & relationships light and happy. So, I left home for the Coast Guard Academy at 18, with a squeaky clean reputation and a naive outlook on life. Thus far, I had kept my dating life at a relatively shallow level, dating lots of boys, and not jumping into too many commitments. Once I was on my own in the Coast Guard, I continued to date a lot, and even got engaged a few times, without realizing what that commitment really meant. Looking back, I think I probably hurt more guys than I helped, because I was still so lost trying to figure out who I was and who I was looking for in my life.

I think I really hit my peak of poor decision-making when I got home from the Coast Guard in 2004. It was the first time I had considered “my biological clock”, and after looking around at my friends, I quickly realized I was way behind in life. I was 27 and totally single with no plan on the horizon. So I jumped out of one failed relationship into the arms of a new relationship —-always a great way to handle things, right?  

So I dated my soon-to-be husband for a quick 2 years, and after immaturely regularly mentioning my age/clock to him, and of course adding a good dose of guilt/pressure to his plate, he asked me to marry him. We had a short engagement, and even during that engagement there were huge red flags. Although we had always had fun going out and partying together, we honestly argued all the time. In fact, I remember showing up to my surprise, bridal-shower so angry from a fight we had had, that I could barely fake a smile for my family & friends. Despite the warning signs, I kept pushing forward, after all, I was almost 30 AND our parents had dished out a pretty penny already….so I kept my eye on the prize and kept moving ahead.

Hindsight being 20/20, it is no surprise after the wedding that we still continued to fight. I remember asking him to go to marriage counseling in the first month of marriage. I made this request for 3 years, pretty regularly, but he was never interested. I reached out to family members (in my family and his), and I reached out to friends. I really didn’t know what to do. I was so used to casually walking away from relationships in the past that now I felt stuck. I felt invisible. I felt depressed and sad, and I had started to just be consistently angry. We would go days, at one point even a week, without speaking. I spent hours crying in my bathtub, crying hysterically on the bathroom floor, and crying myself to bed. I was not only losing my marriage, I was losing the sense of who I was as a person. Unfortunately, instead of putting in the work to learn to get better as a couple, I could slowly feel myself starting to pull away. I used to describe my emotions as being like a light-switch—meaning, once the switch was turned off, I couldn’t get it back on. And after a particularly nasty week-long fight, I felt the switch-flip off.

And then I met someone. 

The dreaded statement that I never wanted to say (or type) out loud. I met someone that I started to like, despite being married. Ugh I said it again. When I first met him, I wasn’t looking for someone, I wasn’t aware of what was happening. But the one thing I knew was that I felt happy. After 5 years of being in a relationship filled with arguments, criticism, and disrespect (on both sides), I started to feel excited about something. And before I knew it, I had developed a texting relationship with someone. I kept telling myself it was harmless, that he was just a friend. But I would anxiously wait by my phone for each text to show up, and sit and ponder the perfect, witty response. 

This went on for a week or 2 before I realized that I had started to grow fond of this man, and finally got the courage to tell my sister through tear-filled eyes what I had been doing. It amazes me that 6 years later, I can still remember the exact conversation and setting—-we were in her living room, and our husbands were downstairs hanging out. And I said: “I have met someone that I like, and I don’t know what to do.” And then I just sobbed. I mean thinking about what sort of damage you can do to your life and your husband and your future can be absolutely suffocating. So, I just sat there and tried to explain to her what I was feeling, and that I didn’t know what the next step should be. She was perfect in that moment, like sisters are supposed to be, but I could see fear in her eyes. I could tell she was scared for me. Scared that I was about to ruin my life. 

And I was scared.                                

I was scared that the damage I had done with this purely emotional-relationship was the nail in my marriage’s coffin.

I was scared that if I stayed my life would be filled with emptiness, continued lack of pretty much everything I needed, and many nights sobbing on my bathroom floor.

I was scared that if I left him, I would ruin my life.

I was scared that if I left him, I would never be a mother. I was at this point 33 years old, so I pretty much knew that I would be sealing the deal for not having children if I chose to leave.

But I honestly think I was so sad and depressed with the state of my marriage, that I was looking for any safety net to be outside my window so I could jump. And I jumped. Within 3 weeks of the first text, I left my husband. Man, that is hard to “type-outloud”. But I did. I left him for a potential future with someone I barely knew. I left him, with a hope of finding happiness in my life. I left him.

Little did I know how crushing that decision would be in my life. I had broken-up with many, many boyfriends before, and I thought I could nonchalantly end this marriage and just walk away with no battle scars. Boy, was I wrong. It was crushing. It sucked the life out of me. 

I was embarrassed by the fact that I had such a huge failure in my journey, and embarrassed that I had single-handedly made the choice to end our marriage. I was also embarrassed that as a Christian-woman, I strayed. Even with it just being an emotional-stray, I knew it was wrong because it affected my heart and the feelings I had toward my husband. 

At first, I solely blamed him. I would think about examples where he neglected me, how he didn’t help around the house, how he put me down, and how me didn’t understand me. I blamed how when we were together, we fought too much, we didn’t talk enough, we had zero intimacy, we spent too much money, we drank too much, etc. But, when I am being completely vulnerable, and I look myself right in the eyes and think back to the night I told him that I had met someone that I liked and that I didn’t know what was happening to our marriage, I can remember how he grabbed a hold of me with both arms and pulled me to the ground in our kitchen. Forehead to forehead, his hands on my cheeks, both of us sobbing, he looked in my eyes and told me I was his soul mate and begged me to stay. And I stayed….the night. The next morning, I packed up my stuff and left. The switch was flipped.

A few months after leaving him and realizing my safety net had been nothing more than a kind and innocent soul who had helped me escape a broken marriage, I woke up scared and almost hyperventilating. The reality of my decision had set in, and I was certain that I had ruined my life. I called my husband up at 5 in the morning on the way to work, and I was bawling. As I choked on sobs, snot, and tears, I tried to convince him that although we had each made horrible mistakes and hurt each other terribly, that it wasn’t too late to go back and try and fix us. In not so many words, he told me he had no interest in reconciling and ended the call abruptly. 

I called up a counselor that day, and made an appointment. I rushed into her office and broke-down sobbing explaining my story, begging her to tell me whether or not I had irreversibly screwed up my life. She handed me a box of tissues, and simply said, “It really doesn’t matter what you did or he did, or what his family thinks of you….From your description it is clear that you never respected him, so it sounds like it would have taken a ton of work for you to ever be happy with him”. I had never respected him? It shocked me to hear this, but at the same time it immediately calmed me down. I had felt like I was the one that had been disrespected the whole time. I didn’t realize how much I had grown to dislike him through the marriage. I didn’t realize how much I had started to disrespect him. It made the pill much easier to swallow hearing this from a third person, and realizing, we might not have been a good match.

So, although my path to get there was absolutely the most painful and wrong path to take, was my final decision to leave, wrong? Looking back, our issues were so trivial. This was a marriage that could have been salvaged. There was definitely work that needed to be done, but it could have been saved. Could we have been happy? I’m not sure. I do think about him occasionally, hoping he is doing well and that he recovered from our agonizing blunder as quickly as possible. But I honestly have never missed him or the marriage. I think that is a good sign, that it was a solid decision, although not the Christian one. Thankfully, we didn’t have kids, which, has allowed us both to move on as if this never happened. Only our hearts show the scars. The one truth I do know, is that without making that decision I would not have married my current husband, nor had my two beautiful babies —all of whom overfill my life and heart with happiness and love. I do consider myself very blessed to have escaped the previous marriage with minimal internal damage. And after many bumps and bruises in the first year after we separated, I somehow managed to land on my feet, and was finally able to see myself again looking back from the mirror.

So my only advice is to be careful with your marriage and your heart, there are all sorts of dangers—some self-inflicted, some not— that are lurking in the shadows waiting for a weak moment. If you do LIFE right, you should only have one precious marriage; treat it like a short-lived, fragile, delicate flower. Hold it in your arms & carry it close to your heart.

I’ve decided recently that writing blog-type posts relaxes me. So here I go again with this humorous little take on our recent fishing-expedition with our two youngsters. I also touch on my insight to how I personally try stay to optimistic and enjoy my kids despite all the chaos! 

I recently went on a 3 day, 2 night fishing-trip with my main man and my 2 littles. Let me preface this entire subject with the fact that fishing is my husband’s passion, and although I lack any true skill, experience, and/or technical knowledge in this sport, I actually really like partaking. For the last three years we have experienced significantly-limited-fishing-time due to creating previously-stated children, so my engineering-type personality sat down in January with a spreadsheet and scheduled all vacations, including 7 family fishing trips, for 2016.

Well, I’m a firm believer in the concept “Make plans, God laughs,” but we started executing this plan accordingly, first with a day trip to practice with the kiddos (cleaning up logistical-type issues, and storage/space checks). This practice, although not perfect or free from tantrums and craziness, was much smoother than anticipated, so we jumped right into the next trip—-a weekend fishing extravaganza…Really, just a couple days down at the Lake of the Ozarks in a little fishing resort…we don’t get out much.

So, to speed this blog along and get to my main point, I wanted to take time to list the “rough patches” of our trip…this is not to be negative, just to capture a bit of our humorous struggle:

1. One hour into the drive down to the Lake, we blew out a tire on the trailer, resulting in the girls having to sit up on a hill on the side of I-70, as my husband was horizontal on the traffic-side of the highway changing this darn trailer tire.

2. During the tire-changing situation, my husband also found a stud missing on the trailer, which needs repair.

3. We journeyed out on the water a couple times a day, and during each journey, we had to say, “Charleigh (3 year old) stop touching/hitting/bugging your sister” at least 20 times/hour.

4. During each journey out, Chayce (1 year old) had a meltdown each time Charleigh touched/hit/bugged her.

5. During each journey out, we had to put Charleigh in time out at least 1/hour.

6. During each journey out, Chayce had at least 2 full blown-teething meltdowns lasting 10-30 minutes until she passed out in my wrap.

7. During each journey out, Charleigh loudly shouted that she had caught a baby-fish and pulled her bait out of the water to kiss her minnow 43 times/hour.

8. During every single hot fishing-streak, where my husband and I started pulling in fish rather quickly, one of our kiddos would have a meltdown requiring adult intervention, and ending said-streak.

9. Each time we were within close proximity of other fishing boats with lots of camoflauged men onboard, our kids would either (a) have a major meltdown, or (b) honk the horn unexpectedly, resulting in us receiving the “why would you bring loud kids out here” glares from our neighbors.

10. During some of the chaos onboard, my husband stepped on one of his poles and broke it.

11. During some of the chaos onboard, I stepped on my sunglasses and broke them.

12. Our 3 year old could not keep track of her pole/line. She was constantly wrapping the fishing line around our feet, our infant, the equipment, and the steering wheel. Eventually, she wrapped it around the trolling motor and broke the motor—-ending our trip.

13. After getting home, we started unpacking and my husband accidentally dropped the minnow bucket and broke it.

14. A couple hours after we got home, got everything unpacked, and got the girls fed, cleaned and put to bed, I took a 3 hour bath. Around that time, my husband found our water heater leaking (I took the fall for that oneJ).

So, anywho, just like a woman, on the way home from the trip I asked my husband if he had fun. As you can imagine, I didn’t quite get the warm & loving response I was wanting, when I so thoughtfully put these fishing trips on our calendar so that my man could enjoy his favorite pastime in the company of his girls. And it got me thinking—-about our internal timers. Let me explain.

I honestly can tell you, I had the best trip down to the Lake. It was wonderful and exhausting, but I loved it. Although I’m not going to list them all, there were so many beautiful moments and first-time-milestones with the girls, that it just made the trip so special. Just to note a few of these moments: (1) watching Charleigh pet and/or kiss every single fish we caught, (2) seeing Chayce respond with absolute glee (holding hands in a touchdown position and laughing with an all-teeth-showing face) when Kevin would drive the boat fast, (3) showing the girls ducks, turtles, herons, snakes, deer, squirrels, etc., and (4) getting to witness how a trip to a big arcade is on the same fun-meter as Disneyworld to a toddler (and a husband).

But after reading about all of our “rough-patches”, one could certainly understand that if someone asked us how our trip went, it might be easy to say, “Well actually it sucked the life out of us, and we won’t be going back”.

Well, see this is where readjusting your internal timer might come in handy. My toddler has an attention span of about 2 minutes for any particular task. And I think as a parent, it makes sense to get on the same rhythm, or at least try to. In my daily life right now as a momma of these young’ens, I am constantly having to discipline one minute, and the next minute adjust my mood to being super-happy and loving. I feel like I’m on an emotional rollercoaster every day in order to match the emotional rhythm of my girls—I am quite manic really.  The constant ups and downs are insane! And if my husband comes home after a long day, and asks me, “How was your day?” I can tell you it would be easy to summarize the whole day by stating all of the negatives, because the negative moments are often overpowering. 

However, I try to look at each trip, each day, each project, each meal, in tiny little toddler segments. For example, I went to church this morning, with my toddler, and as a whole I would give the outing maybe a D based on lots of talking, dancing in the aisle, fake-bathroom trips, etc., where a normal human would then hold off taking the toddler back to church in the future. But if you look at that church trip in toddler-segments, the first part of church was rough getting the rules to stick & waiting for the excitement to wear off.  However, the last half, Charleigh snuggled in on my lap, holding my hands, lightly rubbing my arms, and kissing my fingers. This last half of church made my whole day, and will be a cherished memory from here on out. So, undoubtedly I will be bringing her back to church as often as possible. 

So this brings us back to our chaotic fishing trip—-overall, it might get a rating of D (especially if you ask my husband after calculating the costs of all the needed repairs)— meaning, the trip was a bust and we should cancel all the remaining planned trips. BUT, if instead you shrink it down to toddler-segments, you realize how many unbelievably sweet & sacred moments there were onboard (like the moments I talked about above), and you realize there is no way you would miss a chance to go fishing with these rascals in the future!

I’m sure everyone can think of parents who will refuse to go to ____ (fill in the blank)____with their kiddos because when they think back to the last experience they had, it was exhausting and terrible. Well, honestly, each and every moment throughout the day with emotional little basket-cases (aka toddlers) are going to be riddled with rough patches. If you don’t allow yourself to feel joy with each high, because it feels like the lows are outnumbering the highs, then you will wish time away and quite literally lose your mind. So, this is my solution for enjoying my time with my little terrorists and feeling positive about each day I get to spend with them.

To me, it’s all about readjusting my timer to toddler segments. I brace for shock with the tantrums and try to let those suckers roll off me like water off a duck’s back! And then when one of those sweet, lovable, happy moments show up, well I just hold on for dear life!

Lessons I took away from attending my 20 year high school reunion this weekend:
1. Go. I wrestled with the decision of whether or not to attend this reunion, mainly because I couldn’t decide what value it would add to my life when FB already fills in the holes in the lives of old buddies. Let me just say it’s worth it to see folks in real life, get real hugs, and hear real laughs & struggles of old friends. Just go. You won’t regret it. 
2. We all have crap. I had some anxieties about attending…. Baby weight still being present, having been through a divorce already, etc… And after just a few conversations, I realized everyone had the same crap they were worried about … So let that crap go, and enjoy the experience. 
3. Embrace the awkward. One of the most awkward feelings in life I have decided, is to have someone walk towards you saying your name and excited to talk, and you can’t remember their name. Well, that will happen at your class reunion. So just accept it, don’t be offended if people don’t recognize you, and don’t beat yourself up if you can’t remember others. We are officially old now, it’s gonna happen?
4. Look at the name tags. I was nervous to offend folks by looking at their name tags, because they might realize I didn’t at first know their name (so I did a lot of the “heyyy how are you” type greetings). Ummmm who cares? It’s a reunion. You’re expected to not remember. Just look. Embrace the awkward, remember.
5. Move around. I’m looking at a steady flow of pictures on FB from last night’s event, and I can’t believe how many people I didn’t get to talk to by the end of the night. I shoulda been moving around a bit more! 
6. Man, so many of us have matured. A lot of old beef between people, guards people had up, and silly-cliques have melted away with age. Life is humbling to say the least, and it felt really good to be amongst just common folk with similar problems and experiences to talk about. 
7. High school drama still exists. Despite my previous point, I was worried about seeing people I may not have had the best friendships or relationships with…. And some proved me right. Were there people that I saw specifically avoid me….yup. But, honestly, at this point in our lives, who cares? Sometimes you need to let things roll off you like water off a duck’s back. 
8. We still look good. Despite realizing that Blake Shelton, Keri Russell, Liv Tyler, and John Cena are all our age (and yet in my mind look much older than us), we still look good. Hells yeah, 95ers. Nicely done. 
See you in 10. 

So I’m soaking up some heat in my bathtub right now, unwinding after a wonderful vacation to the sunny state of Florida. After tucking my kiddos to sleep, and telling my man not to wait up, I immediately grabbed a bottle of wine, my last local paper, my few magazines & catalogs, and of course, my dumb phone, and rushed into my sanctuary—my bathtub filled to the top with steaming hot water and bubbles. 
After a week long vacation with my family, and specifically my two kiddos under 3, and a long 12 hour drive home today, I’ve been dreaming for about 48 hours now of getting my old bones in this tub.
So, after a couple hours of soaking here and working through my stack of reading material, I jumped on my phone and noticed one of my notifications was the “you have memories from this day…” -type of notifications. And I was very much surprised to find that I posted pics from my last Florida vacation (4 years ago) on this same day back in 2011. I remember laughing with my then boyfriend (now husband), that we had to go on vaca to the beach before we took the next step in our relationship, because I couldn’t marry a man that couldn’t chill on the beach at least once a year. (Btw, clearly that was a bad test, because we haven’t been back for 4 years, and he can’t relax? anywhere)… 
But anywho, as I scroll through those pics, I was surprised at how many of my pictures were of scenery—over 90% were scenery and not of us! So I sat here contemplating why that was… And after a few minutes of digging through old memories, I don’t know why I was surprised at all. See, at that point in my life my footing was not stable— I was just coming out of a divorce and a few bad rebound-relationships. And despite weighing much less, having perfectly manicured nails, and days filled with beer drinking & zero-worries, I have to admit I felt pretty empty and unsure of my next step. But really at a time I should’ve been snapping selfies like crazy, I was taking pictures of the passing dinner cruise ships and sunsets. 
Now going into this vacation, I’ll admit I spent way too many hours worrying about not having my body “beach-ready” after baby #2, vs. just coming out of my 2nd fitness competition 4 years ago and walking everywhere in my bikini with utter confidence?
And it is true, that on this trip I spent many hours awake after midnight because of sick kids and feedings vs. hitting cool beach bars and listening to late night music on the water 4 short years ago….
And also on this trip I spent most of my day correcting my toddler, changing butts, breastfeeding in public (the horror?), and continuously hauling “unused” beach gear back and forth between our condo and the beach vs. day drinking on the beach all day without a care in the world 4 years ago…
But my pictures say it all. Scenery back then, and 5,000,000 family moments now. Clearly my life was empty and scary back then. And I know I have plenty of friends, family, and acquaintances, who would’ve hated the vacation we just took, due to all the parenting moments we encountered. But all I know is my heart is full, and the memories we created were ones I will cherish forever. I love that my husband and I got to spend this time with my parents and our kiddos on the beach making memories before we hit a new phase of our lives—whether that be kids growing up, parents or us moving, etc. 
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying my life is perfect, it is far from that. But I love my current situation. Complicated, repetitive, exhausting, argumentative, embarrassing (lots of CJ pee in the pool moments), but ALL mine. I choose my current exhausting life over my old easy, picture-ready life, any day. 
So I’m lying here all alone in my bathroom, scolding myself for rushing into this secluded setting, after having a very blessed trip. I’m old enough now, with as many fumbles as touchdowns under my belt, to know not to count on tomorrow… That I should enjoy each moment like it is my last. So I’ll spend the last few minutes of my own demanded solitude, praying and thanking God for continued blessings, unanswered prayers, and my messy, chaotic, love-filled life. 

Why I Go to the Zoo? 
So most FB friends of mine know that I haul my cookies and my kiddos to the zoo more frequently than any sane human… And I have received comments, side-eyes, and questions on why.
Well, let me start by saying I’m not trying to win any awards for most visits or best mom. I get the distinct feeling from certain folks’ comments and expressions, that they think I’m either trying to show-up other moms, show-off my fun side, or that I’m acting like a “Real Housewife” just wasting my days going to the zoo (instead of cleaning or cooking something)!
Well, my answer is quite simple. I go, because it makes me feel good about me—-?… meaning, I get to be the mom I want to be when we are there! 
Bottom-line: My kids and I get along really well at the zoo. We love the outdoors, walking around, and seeing the animals…. And something about the zoo just puts us in a good place. There’s enough space (on non-weekend, busy days) to let my 2 year old run wild with reckless abandon. So I don’t have to hold her down or box her in! And I don’t have to yell after her, or correct her, or discipline her….We really just enjoy the scenery, the endorphins, and each other! 
On top of that primary reason, there are all of these other minor excuses to go at least every week:
1) I get to walk 4 miles pushing approximately 50 lbs up and down all sorts of hills—-vs. getting on a boring treadmill for an hour!
2) I friggin’ love animals. You never know what they are going to do… Last week a gorilla threw a head of lettuce at us and it landed right in front of our stroller. Yesterday, CJ ticked off a momma lion by waking her up with her “toddler-lion-roar”…seriously the lioness woke up looked right at CJ with a “I will eat your arse”-kind-of-look, and then fell back asleep. And 2 weeks ago we saw 2 joeys in a momma Kangaroo’s pouch! It’s amazing, and it’s always something new and exciting!
3) It’s free. Seriously it’s a stay-at-home-momma’s dream. Here are a few quick keep-it-free-tips: park at turtle park (free), pack your lunch and treats, pack a few pennies so your kiddos can throw them in the elephant wishing well by the north entrance, buy the big ole souvenir cup and bring it each time ($1 to refill), and get there during the first hour of opening to get into free stuff (children’s zoo, petting sting rays, riding carousel—times vary for seasons, so call if unsure).
4) It’s outside. Not many things to enjoy outside year-round. And I truly believe that my best trips have been on rainy days because animals act differently and you get the place to yourself.
5) It’s momma-friendly. Notice I didn’t state the obvious—child-friendly. It’s momma friendly: (1) free, (2) auto open buttons for all buildings which is great if you are pushing a stroller, (3) enough nooks & crannies to allow you to find a private nursing location for lunch, (4) other ill-behaved children are usually within earshot so you don’t feel alone?, (5) wide paths for lots of kids/strollers, (6) no noise limit, & (7) of course lots of bathrooms with changing tables, rooms for strollers, and family stalls. 
6) No time requirement-guilt. Since it’s free, if my kiddo is having an “off day” I can leave without guilt about how much I paid for parking or a ticket. Our visits are usually 2-3 hours max, but I’ve cut them down to 30 mins on bad-behavior days!
Anywho, there you have it… My perspective of my zoo-addiction. Peace out ?. 

On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was sitting in my stateroom aboard the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter DRUMMOND in the very beautiful tourist town of Port Canaveral, FL. I was 24 years old and had just been assigned to this cutter a couple months earlier. There weren’t many folks onboard that day because we had just returned home the day before after being deployed for a few weeks, and our crew was enjoying a much-needed day off with family. I was in for the morning, knowing we would only have a skeleton crew onboard, which would be the perfect atmosphere for me to finish some paperwork in the much-needed silence. I was not in uniform, since it wasn’t a scheduled work day; I was totally relaxed, just knocking out my to-do list in flip flops, a t-shirt and shorts. A couple hours later, with most of my tasks completed, I had just started to think how I would be heading home shortly. Right then, the crewmember on duty came flying up to my door and said, “XO, a plane just hit one of the World Trade Centers.”  Although it was shocking and sad news to hear, I was not scared. I just assumed it was some sort of aviation mishap, and therefore, kept focused on my pile of papers. A few minutes later, the same crewmember was standing in my doorway again, and I knew it was bad. 

 

The US Coast Guard Port Canaveral Station was home to several boats and cutters, including ours, and was typically a sleepy-fishing-station, aka “Station Vacation”. That morning though, the station quickly came to life. Security levels instantly escalated, and leadership meetings were pulled together for all the different residing units. My sister and I lived in an apartment together on Merritt Island, FL a few miles away, and I rushed home as soon as all the initial leadership briefings ended. I needed to change, pack, and get back to the ship, so we could get underway.  I remember feeling absolutely-frantic—so much so, that I remember unintentionally driving over one of those concrete parking-lot-space-dividers in my brand-new, eclipse convertible on my way home… scratching the heck out of the bottom of my car. I knew then, as I kept looking up to the sky for any planes, that I was officially scared; scared for the safety of my family back home, for the future of our country, and for the changing plans in the Coast Guard. Most importantly, I was scared for the safety/strength of all first responders, service men & women, and all their families, as the operational tempo across the globe significantly escalated.

We followed our orders and quickly got underway the next morning at sunrise. There was an eerie fog across the channel, which was lined with restaurants, businesses, and bars. I was driving the ship from the top bridge, with the Captain by my side answering the radio. I was more alert than normal to any sounds or movements in front of me, not sure of what to expect, and still wondering if the eminent danger was truly over. As the engine kicked off and on to adhere to the no-wake zone, we slowly made our way out of the channel towards open water. On one of the moments when the engine cut off, we heard clapping off in the distance. As we looked towards the sound, we were surprised to see that we were being given a standing ovation by any and all spectators on the decks/piers.

 

I still get chills thinking back to the sound of those far off cheers. 

God Bless America

 

My Easter Reflection
I’m sitting here soaking up some serious heat in my bathtub and reflecting about the crazy & beautiful Easter Day I just experienced. There were so many hugs & kisses, and plenty of gift-giving, worshipping, egg-hunting, pigging out, and resting. But on the flip side, there were tantrums, and lots of rushing, correcting, hauling, cooking, cleaning, etc. So, my Easter was filled with a nice balance of highs and lows, with the day really feeling like a win overall! 
Spring and the Easter Holiday have a funny way of kickin’-up some of my yearnings of self-reflection, reminding me of our wonderful ability to continuously renew & rejuvenate our lives at any given moment…
To me, there is something so calming and so peaceful about being able to hit the reset button at any time in life, especially when you are then able to push your new life beyond boundaries you hadn’t ever imagined were possible.
As I’m sitting here thinking back over past Easters or Springtimes, I’m amazed at how many peaks and valleys I’ve endured, and how most (if not all) were not in my “life plan”.
Here is a summary from just the past few years (around Easter):
2004- Filled with fear and anxiety about getting ready to come home and change careers after spending 9 years away in the Coast Guard. 
2005- Filled with grief from having both of my grandmas pass away.
2006- Filled with excitement about recent engagement.
2007- Filled with fear of marriage difficulties.
2008- Continued fear of marriage difficulties and anxiety about decision to change career again.
2009- Continued fear and sadness about inability to change state of marriage, but optimism about new career path.
2010- Absolutely lost in grief, embarrassment, fear, and disappointment due to divorce.
2011- Optimism of new serious relationship and motivated by continued success in career. Sadness of sister/family moving away.
2012- Excitement about upcoming wedding and continued motivation about career progress.
2013- Excitement about upcoming birth of first child, severe anxiety/isolation with being bedridden 3 months, & work on pause.
2014- Truly enjoying life with 1 baby and motivated by work progress. 
2015- Excitement about upcoming birth of 2nd baby, and worry for 1st baby adjustment. Grieving loss of 2 pets. Excitement of sister/family moving back!
2016- So much beauty, busyness and messiness surrounding life with 2 kiddos…. Worried about return to work and finding the right balance for myself and my family. 

 

If someone 10-12 years ago would’ve asked me if the lumpy, bumpy, staggered path I just described would be a summary of MY life, I would’ve laughed … This is not what I pictured. This was not my plan. My plan, of course, had a lot more “highs” and really no “lows”. My plan had me skyrocketing to the top of my career path with 2.5 children, a nice house, a well-behaved dog, the perfect marriage, and nothing but blue skies. 
My plan didn’t have the words: death, unmotivated, struggling, divorce, anxiety, bedrest, counseling, embarrassment, failure, etc. My plan, honestly, didn’t account for LIFE. And as a result, my plan would’ve skipped right over all the new learnings, life lessons, and redevelopment of myself. 
I honestly never planned that I wouldn’t be moved or motivated by the family-business. I know for sure that I never planned to slow my career & life pace down in order to provide more precious moments with my babies. I never planned to find empathy deep inside myself for other working moms, or SAHMs, or first time moms, or bedridden moms. I never planned on a lot of things. It’s true, my original plan would’ve been a lot less painful, but I would never have grown or loved like I have learned to love on the path I’ve been given.
So on this Easter, I sit here loving my messy life, feeling very blessed for each time I have tripped and fell. So I will try to spend my last few restful minutes of today, thanking God for each redirection & blessing in my life, and building my faith and courage for whatever peak or valley comes next on my fabulous, messy, little journey.

I work for Procter & Gamble, and their benefits allow employees to take up to 1 year off (not paid, but your job is secure) following the birth of a child. I took 8 months off with my first child (2013), and I maxed out the full year this time around with my 2nd child which is sadly ending next week. With this chapter of my life closing, I want to share a few of my learnings about this time with my friends. 

Prior to becoming a mom, I had a different opinion about maternity leave. I would hear a lot of opinions at work or in social settings, about whether or not mothers should take this time off. I’d have to say, there were quite a few people (especially grandparent-types) that voiced their support for it, and really thought it was a great benefit that should be maxed out. However, others adamantly thought it was too much time off and were worried that the time off may or may not be used efficiently. Of all the different opinions I heard, the strongest critics were almost always working-women, often making statements, like, “Well, I couldn’t stand being home that long, I’d go stir-crazy” or, “I just needed a few months off to heal, I’m ready to be back at it”. Just listening to so many young working-women (especially if they work in a male-dominated field) use the same phrases to explain why they don’t need this time off… well, it just makes me sad. To me it sounds like strong women, trying to explain away the need to be maternal. You can tell many feel they will wear some sort of badge of honor for getting back to their pre-baby work life as quickly as possible. They seem to think this will show how tough and un-phased they can be by the new HUGE addition in their lives. And embarrassingly enough, I have to admit, I was one of those critics—not so much caring what time others took off, but more so thinking there was no way I would take this time off. I mean, I am a veteran, alpha-female, tough-shell-kind-of-chick, right? I wanted to show the world that I didn’t need to stop and smell the roses with my kiddos. I definitely didn’t want a bunch of guys at work thinking I needed “preferential treatment”, right? I mean, I spent my years in the military trying to prove that I was equal to my male-counterparts, so why would I “get soft” now? I think my younger self was afraid that taking this time off might appear to be a sign of weakness. I grew up with a work hard, play hard mentality, and no silly baby was going to affect my work or my fun. 
Well, I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.
Not only did my “fun” (meaning, going out with friends regularly to concerts, bars, restaurants, movies, etc.) come to a screeching halt, but my opinion on work-life balance changed. I was surprised by the shift in my vision of a good life. For example, it cracks me up that I was worried about the baby affecting my ability to go out every weekend?!?! No one warned me that it would be ME wanting to stay home & hold my babies as much as I could—honestly, I think the kids would prefer we go out more, for their sanity?

And for an example from my work life, after having my first child I took 8 months of maternity leave, and when I returned to work I “cut” back my hours a bit to 40-50/week. I found out the hard way that it was too much time away from my baby (for me and my child). Bad behaviors developed in my kiddo because she was at a daycare 12 hours/day and my stress level from my fast-paced role and missing my baby was affecting my abilities to compassionately parent. So with my second (and final) child, I learned from my past mistakes, and decided to take the full year of maternity leave off, and then go back to work part time for 20 hours/week. Luckily, Procter & Gamble also offers this option.
This wasn’t preferential treatment, like I was fearing. This was fair treatment. It would be preferential if my male counterparts & I were in fact equal. But we are not. Well, not until men are able to give birth to children. Until then, we are different, and this is fair treatment for a woman who just gave birth to her young. BTW, somewhere during the delivery process of my first child, these thoughts started to take root?
So, the 8 months I took off with my first child was wonderful and peaceful and amazing; just one little quiet peanut and I at home. But this past full year off, where I have been able to be stress-free (from work issues only?), and as a result be fully present with both of my girls at totally different stages in their lives, has been a true blessing. And I’m not sure what the future holds for me and my work life. I’ve learned enough to know, “Make plans, God laughs.” But I do see me going back to the corporate world full time at some point because “accomplishing the mission” (whether at sea or on a manufacturing floor) has been in my blood for too long now! 
So, in an attempt to possibly help others who may be struggling with the decision of how much time to take off due to their own personal standards/goals/visions, I wanted to capture everything I was able to accomplish with my family and my home/personal life during these 12 months off. This is in no way to brag or show how busy we were—I mean, if you are reading this, you have seen my “FOR REAL” posts where we have seen our fair share of tantrums, bitings, near-drownings, etc. This is instead to capture how invaluable of a gift it is to receive the chance to spend this time with your little ones.

 

Places visited:

Arcola, Illinois 

Bass Pro St. Charles 

Beaver Dam State Park

Berry Park

Bethalto Culp Lane Park

Blumenhoff Winery 

Busch Stadium

Carlinville Refugee Coffee House

Carlyle Lake

Destin, Fl (Boathouse, AJs, McGuires, Beach, etc.)

Drewel Park

Edwardsville Airplane Park 

Edwardsville Children Museum

Fairview Heights Shopping

Fitness & Fun Bethalto Illinois

Kircher Park

Lions Park

Midway Park

Grafton, Illinois

Grant’s Farm

Wood River Park

Montelle Winery

Outlet Malls (Chesterfield)

Peabody Opera House

Purina Farm

Rigazzis

South County Mall

St. Louis Mills

Science center

St. James, MO

Sybills, St. James

The Galleria

Union Station

World Class Gym, Illinois 

Zoo (50+ times)

1st Baptist Bethalto Park
Events attended:

Alton Memorial Day Parade 

Alton’s Staycation Amtrak Deal ($4 round trip to STL)

Arcola Broom Festival 

Bass Pro Holiday Crafts 6 wks 

Blackberry-Pickin’ at Grafton Eckerts

Boo at the Zoo Nights 

Boo at the Zoo Spooky Saturday

Cardinals Game at Busch Stadium

Carrie Underwood at Chaifetz Arena

Elks Christmas Party

Dogtown St. Patty’s Day

Downtown St. Patty’s Day

Fishing Trip, Carlyle Lake 

Grafton Illinois (Historical Boat Display)

Grafton Ferry Trip

IHOP Veteran’s Day Meal

Jason Aldean/Kenny Chesney at Arrowhead Stadium

Jerseyville Fair

Leisure World Gym (2-3x/week)

MOPS meetings (2x/month)

Monthly School District Play dates

Multiple Church Chicken Dinner Festivals

Prairietown Parade & World’s Fair

Pumpkin-Picking at Rhoades Family Farm

Springtime Village at Purina Farms

Zoo Veteran’s Day Sale 

Zoo Wild Nights

1st Baptist Church Bethalto Fall Festival

9/11 Veteran’s Free Pass Milstadt Eckerts
Projects completed:

Completed monthly pics to show. growth of Chayce

Created the 2015 Family Photobook.

Created a Birth Photobook of Chayce.

Created a Birth Photobook of Charleigh.

Created a craft room & storage space for me on 2nd floor.

Created a craft storage space for girls in kitchen.

Created a family calendar with all vacations, 5-6 fishing trips, family events spelled out for 2016.

Decorated the house for every holiday.

Designed, ordered, hung canvas pictures of maternity & newborn pictures.

Held multi-family garage sale.

Hosted 5 different family/friends holiday/bday parties at our home.

Made/sold numerous crafts.

Made personal birthday gifts & Father’s Day gifts for the family.

Made personal Christmas gifts for the grandparents with pics of the girls. 

Organized clothes storage for the girls in laundry room (so they can access them easily).

Planned/executed Chayce’s baptism and brunch. 

Planned/executed a week-long family vacation (including my parents) in Destin, FL.

Planned/executed our 1st two-kid fishing trip.

Reorganized toy storage in living room (3 times).

Reorganized kitchen storage to hold bottles/bibs/diapers/wipes again.

Spent weeks & several weekends in Eureka helping out my family with flood recovery.

Switched out clothes sizes 5 times for Chayce and 2 times for Charleigh.

Wrote and recorded a song for Chayce.
Milestones observed:

Chayce’s 1st breath

Chayce’s 1st cry

Chayce’s 1st word

Chayce smiling

Chayce laughing

Chayce getting her 1st tooth 

Chayce starting to sit up

Chayce belly-crawling

Chayce actually crawling

Chayce pulling up

Chayce’s 1st step

Chayce’s 1st cold

Chayce’s 1st shot

Chayce’s 1st tantrum

Chayce’s 1st discipline

Chayce’s 1st attempt to touch outlet

Chayce advancing to shower time

Chayce’s 1st round of holidays & all the excitement that comes with it 

Chayce’s 1st Cardinals Game 

Chayce’s baptism.

Charleigh potty-trained

Charleigh learning ABC songs

Charleigh learning to count to 20

Charleigh learning to talk in full sentences

Charleigh learning to dress herself

Charleigh learning to brush her own teeth with big girl toothpaste:)

Charleigh learning chores: how to put clothes in laundry, clean her tray, put trash in the trashcan, put dishes in sink, put clothes in her drawers, get clothes out of her drawers

Charleigh memorizing books

Charleigh reciting songs

Charleigh jumping in the pool (going under, & getting head wet)

Charleigh learning to play soft with her sister (kind of)

Charleigh learning to share (kind of)

Charleigh learning the same/different concept

Charleigh completing puzzles up to 25 pieces by herself

Charleigh attending first school events

Charleigh’s 1st professional manicure

Charleigh able to sit in church quietly with me instead of nursery.

Both girls —1st camping trip.

Both girls —1st political rally. 

Both girls —1st time to vote.

Both girls —1st trip to beach/ocean.
Moments shared:

8 months of breastfeeding.

Baby (14 yo dog) passing away

Family vacation memories including the grandparents.

Fishing at dusk.

Getting to visit with my nieces/nephews at least monthly, including seeing Carrie Underwood Concert.

Girls visited grandpa (in Illinois) at least a couple times a week.

Grasping onto those perfect, quiet, quick 4 days in the hospital with my fresh, sweet baby girl. 

Holding my girls, and singing them to sleep every day at nap time.

Holiday crafting, gift-giving, seeing the expressions on the littles faces…

Lazy mornings snuggling together.

Leaving them at their new daycare for a practice?

Long walks and talks and “I Spy”.

Lots of bath/shower times.

Lots of trips to Eureka so girls could see my family.

Lots of my family visiting our home.

Lots of reading time.

Lots of craft time.

Meeting amazing friends (and eating wonderful food) at MOPS.

Precious girlfriend weekend away, so daddy could get 1-1 time with the girls! 

Random picnics in the park.

Santa/Easter Bunny visits.

Sharing communion for the first time with Charleigh.

Sick day cuddles.

Sledding together.

Snuggles with my girls.

Swimming at dawn.

Swimming at dusk.

Teaching my girls to hug, love, be kind, swim, be active, be strong, follow rules (kind of), stay outdoors, etc.

Trick-or-treating with the family.

Waking up to Charleigh crawling into bed.

Waking up to the sun.

Waking up to hearing my girls on their monitors.

Watching my girls play together.

Watching Chayce’s personality start to show.

Watching Charleigh make-believe play.

Watching the girls meet & interact with teachers & peers at MOPS, gym daycare, and school district play date. 

Zoo time = perfect bonding & burning (calories) time.

ONE ENTIRE YEAR HOME WITH MY GIRLS … PRICELESS.

Thank you, Procter & Gamble for allowing this important time off with my kiddos.