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I recently finished reading Katrina Kenison's The Gift of an Ordinary Day, A Mother's Memoir and found myself reflecting and dog-earing my whole way through.  Her attention to the minutia of being a mother and raising kids up, while also trying to figure out how you (as your own actual person with dreams and feelings of your own separate from motherhood) were eloquent and so very relatable to my own inner dialogue.  Most of the pages are turned down so I can remind myself in the future during my inevitable re-read of this book that there was a sentence or two that spoke to me directly. In the last chapter titled Pansies though, I had a moment of real connection with the author and the poet she quotes in this section.  This connection is part of the reason I am such a lover of reading - those rare moments as a reader when you feel that maybe the author writes a line specific just for you.  Sentences alone sometimes can bring the two of you together; reader and writer...

While planning for Christmas this year and taking into account Brandon's new job that offer so many incredible perks to our life, it did also come with a significant decrease in pay.  It has been an adjustment in everyday life, but we knew it was going to be important to really make plans to make the holidays work within a budget. So, we sat down and did some planning.   I ordered our Christmas cards earlier than ever and with as many coupons as I could scrap together, we pared down our kids' gift list to a financially reasonable (and a they-don't-need-more-crap) amount, we budgeted our lists, shopped online with coupons and early, and tracked each spending closely to make sure we were on target.  But it was clear right from the start that we'd be forgoing presents for ourselves.   Truthfully, we don't mind all that much because neither of our main love languages is gifts, but it did feel a little funny every time we checked in with each other like, "wait, real...

I give thanks for this home that is more often than not disorganized and wrecked and a mess and broken and cluttered.  but also so obviously LIVED in and so obviously LOVED that we are forced to try our best to not let all the disorganized, wrecked, messy, broken, and cluttered parts get us down. I give thanks for my kids' daddy, who heals any and all of our broken hearts and spirits with a hug,  who administers compliments and kindnesses like a Santa who needs no holiday, who has patience as vast as the sea for every single one of us in this home, and who leaves in the morning to work hard all day and returns each evening with his eyes beaming like a sailor who has returned to land; a Daddy who's favorite place in all the world is right here in our home with us. I give thanks for this place that I can write and journal and lock away the memories of our life to be read later by me to laugh at how silly or beautiful or wonderful or meaningless or meaningful our tiny moments wer...

this is going to be obnoxiously optimistic and flowery because i'm feeling so grateful and happy and inspired.  if you were to run into me after two glasses of champagne friends, this is how I talk, so you've been forewarned.  although I haven't had any champagne..and probs should - because life, man. anyway- it's been pretty hectic over here with the four kiddos, and greyson back to school and flag football practice/games, and a three month old who is learning so much and so fast, and an almost two year old (gasp!! how?!) and our gemmi ro who has all the drama of a fifteen year old squeezed into a four year old's body, and my part time working, and brandon's full time working....and life, man. and honestly, it is so busy and plenty confusing and tiring - but so very very fantastic.  I don't know if its the awareness that comes with another birthday (whoot whoot 33!) or the perfect amount of time dipped into the adult world that my new job provides me, or do...