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I’m a mom of four little ones. Enough said. Actually, there’s much more to me than the children that label my amazing vocation called motherhood, but for the good of my family, and society, I spend mostly every waking minute thinking, playing, and working with my children. It isn’t an easy job, but I honestly wouldn’t give it up for anything in this world. Yet, a long hot shower alone without any little ones knocking or tattle-tale screams from the other side of the door sounds quite tempting right now. More than a warm shower, I could really use a cup of hot coffee that didn’t have to be warmed up several times – the small things we give up for children. But these little sacrifices are exactly what motherhood is made of and what molds us into some of the best mothers that walk the earth. It’s whether or not we are willing to accept these personal sacrifices and for most of us, we are willing to accept anything thrown our way for the sake of our children.
The internet is flooded with articles about removing the “filters” and to stop “faking fine” and I whole-heartedly agree that our world has an unrealistic haze, but it isn’t completely bad either. Our mothers, grandmothers, and great-grandmothers had their own types of “filters” as they chose to make the best of their lives. There were plenty of tough days alongside the happy ones, but the only difference is that we have social media to overexpose the “filtered” lives of our friends, family, and even strangers. Generations ago, mothers were never concerned about the next Instagram image to post or whether their political views might infuriate half of their Facebook “friends.” But we live in quite a different world now. We can either accept the “filters” and understand what lies behind them or we can spend the rest of our lives complaining about our imperfect lives.
I personally appreciate the blogs and Instagram accounts that don’t have perfectly edited pictures. I value the “real” moments of family life with the smiles, laughter, and even occasional melt-downs. But all too often we see the “stop faking fine” pictures. The photos where mothers are trying to prove their imperfections, but honestly, it’s not necessary. We all have imperfections. I don’t need to see your messy laundry room each morning as you walk away with your cup of coffee with no intention of cleaning it. Instead, I appreciate a mom who owns her messy laundry room, but gives useful ideas for organizing the space. This is real life.
Motherhood isn’t meant to be an outlet to prove our imperfections, but an opportunity to grow as women. There are very few other vocations/careers that will make you humble, proud, ready to cry, and angry from a person who is a third of your height all within a thirty minute period. So, instead of only proving imperfections, let’s work to overcome them. Every now and again, it’s okay to pretend that everything is fine. As mothers, we have one of the toughest jobs, so let’s become role models for all who observe us, especially our children – the next generation. And remember, that sometimes, it’s okay to pretend that everything is “fine” for our own sanity. The messy laundry room or dirty dishes don’t always have to be the center of our stories to prove our credibility, because sometimes it’s okay to “fake fine” for the sake of our sanity.
The last few years have been a whirlwind. My head has sometimes been left spinning; we have moved continents with three boys, three and under at the time. Set up home and remained sufficiently organized despite the complete chaos to ensure everyone was where they were meant to be on most days. Living in a primarily hockey town, the winters are filled with coffee catch-ups at the arena, so it was no surprise when my youngest declared his intention to play hockey like his school friends. Fully aware that he had never held a hockey stick or slapped a puck,...
We get 12 times to play Santa (if we’re lucky). This phrase stopped my scroll on a Sunday evening. I had an idea of the direction this post was going but I continued on reading. 12 spring breaks 12 easter baskets 20 tooth fairy visits 13 first days of school 1 first date 1-2 proms 1-2 times of seeing them in their graduation cap and gown 18 summers under the same roof And so on and so on. It was essentially another post listing the number of all the monumental moments that we, Lord willing, will get to experience with our...
How do I know if the voice I’m hearing is God’s voice? When I was in high school, I found myself asking this question. My dad was a pastor, and I was feeling called to ministry. I didn’t know if I was just hearing my dad’s wish or the call of God. I was worried I was confusing the two. It turns out, I did know. I knew because I was raised to recognize the presence of God all around me. Once I knew what God’s presence felt like, I also knew what God’s voice sounded like. There is a...
Greetings from a mom who is done with napping children. It’s great to have the flexibility during the day for longer activities, meeting friends for playdates, or day trips to faraway places. It’s a new life . . . the life without naps. The freedom to make plans and keep them. But not that long ago, I was something very different than the flexible, plan-keeping, up-for-it woman I am today. I used to be the mom who refused to skip my child’s nap. Yep, that one. Here’s the thing, for a lot of parents, It’s so much more than just a...
“My friend doesn’t believe in Santa anymore, Mom,” my son said out of the blue the other day. We were driving in the car, and when I met his gaze in the rear-view mirror his eyes searched mine. Immediately, my heart sank. This sweet boy, he’s our first. Thoughtful and smart and eight years old. A quick Google search tells me that’s the average age kids stop believing in Santa, but as his mom, I’m not ready for that—not even a little bit. I can still hear his barely 2-year-old voice going on about reindeer as we lay together on...
I missed my grocery-shopping buddy the other day. Mondays are usually the days my littlest and I knock out our grocery list. In the past, we’ve dropped the kids at school and then headed to the store. I grab a latte, and she chooses a hot chocolate. But that day, they were all in school. That day, she sat in her kindergarten class, and I went to the grocery store. Alone. A new rhythm. A changed routine. A different season. I listened to a podcast on the drive. My podcast. Then I grabbed a drink. Just one. I got the...
To my kids, The world you’re stepping into is unlike anything I experienced at your age. It’s fast-paced, interconnected, and sometimes overwhelming. But within this chaos lie countless opportunities for growth and joy. My wish for you is that you find the perfect balance between embracing the modern world and staying true to yourselves. Change is one thing you can always count on. Embrace it because it’s often the motivation for growth. Embracing change doesn’t mean letting go of who you are; rather, it’s about evolving into the best version of yourself. Remember, you don’t need to have all the...
I can’t really put my finger on it. Or manage to find all the words. But there’s just something about that girl. Maybe it’s the way her hair sits tangled. Curled up at the end. The way she moves. Dances. As if everyone was watching. Or no one at all. RELATED: There is Wild Beauty in This Spirited Child of Mine It could be the way she smiles. With her heart. The way only she can. The way she cares, loves. For everyone. For herself. You see, she is beautiful in the way only wild things are. The way they...
The anticipation of welcoming a new baby into the world is an exciting and joyous time for our family. From the moment we found out we were expecting to just about every day since, the love and excitement only continue to grow. However, amidst all the preparations for the new addition, I cannot help but have mixed emotions as I look back at old videos and pictures of my firstborn, my first princess, my Phoebe—for she will always hold a special place in my heart. As the anticipation grows, my heart swells with a mix of emotions knowing we are...
The knee of my pants is wet and dirty. My yellow ring lays by the sink—it’s been my favorite ring for months. I bought it to match Bigfoot’s halter and the sunflowers by his pasture. Bigfoot is my daughter’s pony, and I loved him the most. The afternoon is so sunny. His hooves make the same calming rhythm I’ve come to love as I walk him out back. A strong wind blows through the barn. A stall labeled “Bigfoot,” adorned with a sunflower, hangs open and I feel sick. I kneel down by his side as he munches the grass....