• project 365-2017, days 1-7

    Two years ago, I started my first Project 365 challenge. The idea is you take one photo per day, each day of the year, for an entire year. I actually made it about 60-ish days into the challenge, and then for some reason I missed a day and then never started again. I was disappointed by this because I truly enjoyed photographing my family’s daily life without worrying about tons of editing or making everything look perfect. I found beauty in really small, insignificant things, and I challenged myself as a photographer to make use of unideal situations like dimly lit rooms and unattractive backgrounds. It forced me to compose photos simply by changing my own position rather than directing my subjects.

    So — after not even attempting the project last year, I decided to give it another try in 2017. I already mentioned that this would be a big year for my family, and I just feel like I need to be documenting it…routinely and consistently…so I don’t miss or forget a single thing.

    I will collect my photos into weekly posts and share a few details about what was going on in each image. If you find yourself inspired and wanting to start your own Project 365 challenge, I urge you to do it! Don’t worry about not starting on January 1. Your 365 days begin with the first click of the shutter.

    And now for week one…

    1/365

    I’m not even halfway through with this pregnancy, and I can barely see my feet. This is not good, my friends.

    2/365
    I have always obsessed over my children sleeping. They have a way of redeeming themselves when they look this peaceful, don’t they? Despite the day’s challenges, laying eyes on my sleeping babies reminds me that they are perfect and I am not.

    3/365
    Charlotte is such a little mama. She always has been. She is a nurturer, a snuggle-bug, and a caretaker. 

    4/365
    First thing this morning, Noelle was reading in her bed. She is really into her chapter books and loves her reading light.

    5/365
    I’m just keeping it real. Pregnancy is not glamorous. Sorry.

    6/365
    I caught Shiloh doing the stick-the-raspberries-on-her-fingers trick at lunch and thought it was the cutest thing. 

    7/365
    While checking out the demo progress on the house, the girls decided to flop on the old carpet (yuck). Shiloh shot me this look.

  • the one about the new year

    I have four unfinished posts, saved as drafts. Started, stopped, unfinished…for either lack of time or lack of inspiration or both.

    But today, I shall convert my thoughts into words and begin 2017 in this small corner of the Internet.

    Few things excite me more than the dawn of a new year. I am a sucker for all the new displays in stores — out with the old and in with the new. I get giddy when I see the big stock up sales at Target in the place where the Christmas trees stood just a week prior. I love the idea of ridding yourself of what is dragging you down, both figuratively and literally, as you embark on a new 365 day journey.

    This time last year, I was pretty disappointed with how 2015 played out for me, and I wrote about it in this post. I allowed myself to get into an unhealthy funk that compromised both my mental and physical health.

    I am pleased to say that I was able to stay above that funk for the most part in 2016. Of course, there were downs and times when I had relapses of self-doubt, self-pity, and unhealthy choices, but I think overall 2016 was a much more positive year for myself and my family.

    What was the difference?

    Well, saying goodbye to my part-time teaching position at the preschool was a difficult choice, but it has allowed me to be a little more balanced in other areas of my life. Even with only physically teaching 12-ish hours a week (I know…poor me), I still found myself frantically darting around the house in the morning, snapping at my children as I attempted to get myself and everyone else ready to walk out the door, all while lugging bags filled with pasta and food coloring and Kool-Aid and jingle bells and 7 picture books and some pipe cleaners for the day’s lessons. As much as I enjoyed being with the students, I knew that I could not keep living in such a way.

    I would say I gave my diet and exercise a little more thought and attention as well. I started the year very motivated and involved in some challenge groups that kept me going. I became hooked on the 21 Day Fix program, and I really did teach myself a new way to plan and prepare food. I felt so good and accomplished after working out. Somewhere around the middle of the year, I fell off the wellness wagon and never quite hoisted myself back on….but I still have all the tools I learned from those several months of giving a shit, and I do refer back to them every now and then.

    I have grown leaps and bounds in my faith. I am a part of a mom’s book group at our church that fulfills me in multiple ways. I have built new friendships with women who are in a similar place in life. I have learned that everyone struggles. Everyone questions. Everyone has so much to learn but also so much to give. My faith isn’t tied to reciting scripture, knowing the Bible like the back of my hand, or even getting a lot out of Mass. My children are usually using me as a human jingle gym or asking for milk or pointing out “Jesus in a diaper” (loudly and for others to hear), so I rarely take anything away from Mass other than some frazzled nerves and a need to drink at 10:30 a.m. — but I have found other ways to experience, grow, and deepen my faith, for this I am very grateful.

    Lastly, I think the biggest difference between ’15 and ’16 was that I truly learned that I cannot change people. I have tried, and I can’t. Some of my biggest moments of sadness have come when I have expected a person to do a certain thing or be a certain way, and the complete opposite actually happened. I can change a lot of things — about myself, about my home, about my community…but I cannot change people simply because I want them to. Accepting this has made a world of difference in my life.

    Now, here we are, a few days into the new year, and I am so excited about a couple things:

    1. Our house project is actually looking like it is going to happen. After tons of setbacks, the biggest one being when our contractor dumped us after working with us for 8 months, we think we might actually have the right combination of people on board for us to make this dream a reality. We are very excited at the thought that we might be spending Christmas 2017 in our new home. We certainly know by now to keep our hopes low and our guard up, but things are looking better for us, finally. I cannot wait to document our process right here so that we can look back and reflect upon the experience and hopefully help others who are thinking of doing the same thing. We have already learned so much and will undoubtedly get schooled a ton more over the next year. I’m still shopping our HGTV show…

    2. We are expecting a little BOY in early Summer 2017! After three beautiful girls, we will finally know what it is like to raise a son. I think Luke and I both share a healthy amount of fear and nervousness as we head into uncharted territory, but we couldn’t be more thrilled that our family will take on a new dynamic. You can expect more updates about this pregnancy as we head into the gestational period that caused me so much grief with Shiloh. So far, so good. I am hopeful that this little boy will make a peaceful transition into this world and give all of us just what we need.

    Luke and I watched To Joey, With Love last night. I couldn’t get through the first 5 minutes before burying my head so far into my arms to stifle my intense sobbing. If you aren’t familiar with the Joey and Rory Feek story, I suggest you familiarize yourself with it by reading Rory’s blog. I came to know of them only after she was already terminally ill with cancer. I didn’t listen to their music or know anything about them prior to stumbling upon Rory’s blog one day as a result of Black Hole Facebooking (where you just click and click and click and click until you don’t even know what day it is anymore). The movie is such a beautiful illustration of their love story, and her life story. I was so inspired by Joey’s incredible faith and desire to keep a positive outlook despite the fact that she knew she was going to die. I cried throughout the entire 90 minutes, partially because I was sad for her and for her family… but also because I felt such guilt regarding my own outlook at times and how I can get overwhelmed by things that are so minor in the grand scheme of life. Watching this movie, though incredibly difficult knowing the ending, was a great way for me to reset myself as we head into a year that will be full of excitement but also full of challenges, setbacks, and chaos. I am so thankful for my patient, loving husband who supports me unconditionally through all of our ups and downs.

    To living fuller, loving deeper, and taking it one day at a time.

    Happy New Year.

  • the one about my “bump”

    I love a good compliment…both giving and receiving. Compliments are good for the soul, and we should give them freely to both our loved ones and perfect strangers.

    However.
    HOWever.
    HowEVER.
    HOWEVER.
    If the compliment you are forming in your brain is something along the lines of, “You are an adorable pregnant lady,” you might better stop and really think about that before you blurt it out.

    Because…well…she might not actually be pregnant.

    Friends, as I was exiting a store over the weekend, a woman yelled across the parking lot (at me as I was the only one in earshot), “THAT’S AN ADORABLE PREGO SHIRT!” 
    My brain: “Shit.”
    My face: Half-assed smile over my shoulder.
    My brain: “Just keep walking. She will go away.”
    Lady: “I’M SERIOUS! YOU LOOK ADORABLE!”
    My brain: “%&^#! I’m fat. And I thought this shirt was slimming.”
    My heart: Trampled. Crushed. Broken. 
    Lady: Trots away proudly thinking she made my day.
    I mean, I have mirrors. I know that I am not skinny by any means. I know that I carry my weight in my belly (and my arms and my face and my legs but mostly my belly). I can see how this can be confusing.
    But everyone… you can’t just go around assuming that every woman with some extra in the middle is pregnant. Actually, you can if you want to…but the error is when you act on that assumption. When you yell something across a parking lot or issue a well-intentioned yet incorrect congratulations. You just can’t. 
    Why? Because it’s hurtful. 
    Even if your intention was to do a good thing (and in these cases, nearly 99.9% of the intentions are good…I know this), the consequences of being wrong are far more detrimental than the benefits of being right. 
    In public, we tend to rely on the easier compliments to give– which are the ones based on the things we can see…such as physical appearance. In general, we don’t know if the lady waiting in front of us in line is really intelligent or a great mother or awesome at public speaking or can bake an award-winning cheesecake, so in an attempt to connect and be kind and make conversation, we pick something easy like her hair or her lipstick or clothes or her shoes to compliment. 
    Most of the time, if a woman is not pregnant (or not visibly), we don’t say to perfect strangers, “Ma’am, I was just noticing here in the prescription pick-up line that your ass is on point today.”
    Or “Lady, I just have to tell you that your stomach is so flat. I just love it.”
    But once a woman is obviously pregnant (or you just assume that she is), her body is evidently eligible for public commentary.
    “Your belly is so cute!”
    “You just have a basketball in there, don’t you!?”
    “When are you due? You look like you are about to pop!”
    “I got big like you when I was pregnant.”
    “You must be having a girl. When you have a girl, you carry wider.”
    “You are just all belly!”
    So in the case of what happened to me most recently, all hurt feelings could have been avoided if she would have taken the part referencing my body out of the compliment and simply said yelled, “YOUR SHIRT IS ADORABLE! IT LOOKS GREAT ON YOU!”
    But because she thought I was pregnant, she assumed it was perfectly fine to throw that in there, too. And the only reason she thought I was pregnant was because of my belly. I wasn’t waddling around eating pork rinds dipped in peanut butter, asking for someone to time my contractions. There were no other clues.
    Some of you reading this might be thinking that I should use this situation to fuel a new weight-loss ambition. That I should take it to heart and be inspired to change. That I shouldn’t be upset because the lady had good intentions.
    You are entitled to that opinion, but for me and most women I know, these types of situations do nothing but crush me, defeat me, and make me drive to Chick-Fil-A for a #1, large (YES I want the fries large, too), no pickles, with a side of punch me in the face.
    And ya’ll, I know there are worse things than being asked if I am pregnant. Pregnancy is a beautiful, wonderful thing that I have been blessed to experience multiple times. However, remember that there are many women who have suffered pregnancy loss, infertility, and other heart breaking situations that you know nothing about, and bringing it up in such a way can be extremely detrimental to any kind of healing process.
    So, I decided to make a little flow chart for handy reference. Screen shot it. Save it to your phone. Pull it out whenever you are faced with the dilemma of being in the presence of a woman who might pregnant. Save yourself, and most importantly her, a lot of heartache.
  • the one about life right now

    I was at a store recently, and I saw a beautiful sight.

    It was another mother, completely losing her shit, because Child A wanted yet another toy, Child B was demanding chicken nuggets, and Child C had pooped his pants. 
    Mom was frazzled. Worn. Her eyes were tired. Her voice was annoyed. She might have been choking back tears.
    This (familiar) scenario brought me such comfort, because I have totally been in her shoes too many times to count. In fact, I was just in her shoes 17 minutes prior to witnessing her train run completely off the rails. 
    There are times (a seldom few) when I think I am really cruising through motherhood. We have a routine that works. We have meals planned and shopped for. We have our schedule for the week. Our children are happy and well-adjusted. 
    Then, there are the times (like, most of the time here lately), that things couldn’t be more out of control. 
    Bedtimes are thrown completely out of whack thanks to Daylight Savings Time. My kids love going to bed in broad daylight…said no mom ever.
    Thanks to a “quick and easy” DIY kitchen floor tiling project, we have not had an oven, stove, or dishwasher for weeks…which equates to countless (and expensive) fast-food and take-out meals, hand washing dishes or simply buying stock in paper plates, a kitchen floor that can barely be walked on, and my refrigerator just chillin’ in my eat-in nook, where the table should be. Construction dust lines every surface, and we are one trip to Lowe’s away from just throwing in the towel. 
    End of school year apathy has set in. Reading the little 10 page sight word practice book at night makes me want to poke my eyes out. Signing the newsletter envelope (ugh! every Tuesday!) feels heavy and daunting. 
    I have lost my patience too many times to count since Spring Break. That last cup of milk before bed. That plea for the $9.99 piece of plastic junk that my child must have or surely she won’t survive. That pile (mountain?) of laundry that doesn’t seem to bother anyone else in the house but me. 
    That time my husband inadvertently unplugged our deep freezer in our garage, allowing some pretty nice steaks to thaw and reek of rotting carcass. 
    And to top it off, we don’t have a free weekend until late June.
    Do you feel sorry for me yet?
    You shouldn’t.
    We are blessed, and don’t I know it.
    We didn’t have to put new tile in our kitchen, and we don’t have to say “yes” to plans every weekend and most weeknights. Our girls are healthy, and we are inching closer to Summer freedom each each day. 
    We are the ones who busy ourselves to death. In fact, I hate that word — “busy.” It’s not a good thing, in my opinion, to be busy.
    To me, it refers to poor time management. Poor self-discipline. Poor communication. Poor planning. 
    When it gets to the point when your friends, family, and potential customers or clients start their texts, emails, or messages to you with, “I know you’re super busy right now, but…”, you know have a problem.
    It’s a fine balance between appearing like you actually have plans and shtuff to do and giving the impression you’re about to pull a 2007 Britney. 
    So, if I am come across a bit like the gal above, I do apologize. I have been around enough to know that this is, indeed, a season, and we will find our groove again. 
    And at about that time, I will be ready for another baby, and we will hop back on the hamster wheel and pick up where we left off.
    I write this post for no other reason but to give you a glimpse of my reality and help you feel a little better about your own,  the way that lady at the store did for me. 
    And to leave you with this romantic text exchange with my husband. 
  • The one about accountability

    At the turn of 2016, I decided I wanted this year to be “the” year that I actually cared for myself. Not about myself. For myself. I have always cared about myself. I hope everyone cares about themselves! 

    But caring for myself? Not so much. 
    Between caring for my children and caring for my husband and caring for my career and caring for my commitments and caring for my family and caring for my friends and caring for literally everything else on this planet….I simply ran out of time, or cares, for myself. 
    Ahh, yes. 2015. The Year of What Wasn’t. 
    I wasn’t healthy. 
    I wasn’t happy.
    I wasn’t the person I wanted to be.
    I wasn’t.
    But this year, THIS YEAR, I decided that I was going to be #1 in my own life. Doesn’t this sound strange? Can you believe I just said that? Yes. You heard it correctly. I am going to be #1 in my own life.
    Before my husband. Before my children. Before everyone and everything (except God. Not going to mess with that). 
    How could I be this selfish? How could I think so much of my own needs and not the needs of my loved ones?
    Well, see, I have this ability that I believe most humans also have, where I can actually manage to care about my own needs AND the needs of my loved ones, simultaneously! There is enough room in my brain and my heart to allow me to have a life, dreams, interests, activities, and proper self-care in addition to the life, dreams, interests, activities, and care of my family. 
    Shocking, I know.
    I think we all have that ability…it is just about making it a priority. It is about making YOU the priority. 
    Don’t get it twisted. I am not talking about skipping your daughter’s dance recital so you can go shoe shopping with friends (but if you did that, I wouldn’t judge you too harshly). I am talking about finding the time in your day that you already have and doing something productive with it for your own self-care. 
    This is why, when I exercise, I do it at 5:15 a.m. It is not fun to wake up that early, but that is the best time in my schedule to exercise. It guarantees that I get it done ahead of my busy day, and I can’t lose my motivation as the day goes on. It also helps to keep me on track with eating right because I don’t want to “ruin” all the hard work I put in at the crack of dawn.
    It works for me, so I am going to keep doing it that way.
    I find the time to plan meals and go to the grocery instead of eating out constantly. This is a sacrifice on my part because I meal plan and grocery shop typically in the evenings so I don’t have to include my children in this task. I would rather watch TV or do some deep couch sitting, but having a plan is essential to success, in my opinion. 
    I also prep our school lunches as well as my breakfasts and lunches once per week, typically on Sundays. I wash and chop fruits and veggies. I portion out protein, and I cook a few things ahead. Again, this isn’t my favorite way to spend a couple hours or so on a Sunday, but it has to happen or else french fries become my main food group for the week. 
    What I am trying to say is that these practices are sacrifices, but this is a way that I am putting myself first. See? It doesn’t look selfish and rude. It looks healthy and happy, and that is what I am going for.
    I am about to start my 4th round of the 21 Day Fix program, but this is my 2nd round of the extreme version. I am going to share my meal plans and updates with you to keep myself accountable, and also to give you some ideas or inspiration if you are also trying to take better care of yourself. 
    I strongly believe that you cannot care for others if you do not first care for yourself. I want to be the best, happiest, healthiest mama for my girls, and taking care of myself is where it begins. 
    I would love it if you shared any recipes or meal plans that make your tummy happy! I am always looking for new ideas.
    And no, I am not a Beachbody or fitness coach…but if you need one, I know a few!