Easter Tees In The Shop Now!
There are days when I feel completely wiped. I notice more wrinkles and gray hair. I can barely fit into my jeans because my gym time has been sabotaged by my childrens’ activities. My kids run wild and they don’t seem to care what I say or do.
I buy groceries for the week and then we run out of milk. The kids cry, fight, and make demands.
There are days when there are more dirty dishes than clean dishes, when I want to take a nap in the laundry pile, and when I just want to hose the children down out back.
There are days when they refuse sleep and when they do finally conk out, I am stuck cleaning up LEGOs and Play-Doh.
And then there are the moments when everyone is at peace. When the snuggles and kisses overwhelm my heart and I want to freeze time.
There are the days when the bedtime routine takes longer because I spend time smelling their hair and listening to their stories.
I go to bed late because I can’t leave their room and because I choose to lie on their floor listening to them breathe and soaking in their innocence.
There are the mornings when I wake up to the sound of giggling and laughing. When I see my whole world in their eyes. When it hits me that they are mine. That I created life and that I am a driving force in their future.
These are the times I realize dirty dishes mean my kids are fed and dirty hands means my kids are active.
So to all the moms and dads having a bad day – know the good times are coming. And there are many more good days than bad.
Being a good parent can be tough, but the wet kisses make up for it.
Blessed is the mother who lies awake all night with worry. Her mind may race but her heart is big. Blessed is the mother who cries when her child cries, whether it’s a boo-boo or a bully that’s hurt her baby. She will comfort her child with the comfort she receives from her Heavenly Father. Blessed is the mother who cleans and cleans without ever seeing the results in her home. Every which way she turns, she sees another mess trailing behind her. She will spend eternity in a house with many rooms prepared for her by her Father. RELATED:...
My son has a children’s Bible we read on a semi-daily basis. It’s one of those books filled with common Bible stories accompanied by illustrations. My son loves it, and I love sharing my faith with him. Becoming a mother has changed the way I read the Bible. I have more in common now with Sarah and Hannah, who prayed and begged for a child despite infertility. I understand better how Rachel and Leah engaged in a war of comparisons as they competed for their husband’s love and respect by giving him more children. I can sympathize with Mary when...
Heartfelt Frida Mom Ad Showing Raw, Messy Reality of Breastfeeding Will Air on Golden Globes
In: Baby, Motherhood
Disclaimer: Post contains sensitive content and uncensored, real depictions of women breastfeeding. One of my most powerful memories of breastfeeding takes place in a dingy, poorly-lit bathroom in the Army Reserve Center where I was at weekend drill, trying to pump milk for my 5-month-old daughter at home. I stood in front of the sink attached to a whirring pump while I carefully laid out all the necessary supplies on the counter: my special bottle warmer without an auto-shutoff, a digital thermometer, a stainless steel bottle, and a plastic bowl full of icy water. Other soldiers trickled in and out...
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I found myself wide awake in the wee hours of this morning. My son having just cried out to snuggle with me for his last hour and a half of sleep. It’s my favorite time of the morning. My daughter would do the same, wake up around 5 or 6 a.m. to have me pick her up out of her bassinet to sleep in my arms for the remainder of the morning. I pray all of my babies do this. RELATED: To My Child: I Will Lay With You Every Night As Long As You Need But this morning was...
“I’d like you to be the parents for my daughter,” my heart pounded in response to the immediate realization of who was on the other line. That sentence. Those words. I had daydreamed about this moment, but actually hearing them took my breath away. I was filled with the most confusing, exhilarating rush of emotions. Never before had a phone call so quickly pierced my heart with such a barrage of conflicting feelings. I felt extreme joy, sorrow, excitement, and fear all at once. My husband and I had been waiting for this phone call for what felt like an...
Twenty-five feet of crystal-clear water rolled between the pier where I stood and the smooth, colorful boulders on the lake floor. I was enchanted by this simmering window into aquatic life, mesmerized, in my own world. “Ann-Marie, the line is moving,” a voice called out. My parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and I were all about to board the ferry for Mackinac Island. Each step in the line gave a new perspective on the world below my feet and of the majestic sailboats that effortlessly floated by the pier on the waves. I think of these things as I...
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I’m blessed with three incredible, precious children who are all the same gender. And now I’m expecting our fourth baby. Almost anytime people see my three little ones and then glance at my growing stomach, I hear something along the lines of, “Wow! I’m sure you’ll be happy with any healthy baby, but aren’t you really hoping for a different gender this time?” Of course, my typical response is that I’m trying not to get my hopes up one way or the other—that I’ll be completely happy no matter what the ultrasound reveals in just a couple of weeks. But...