Thirsty

An hour before I put my kids to bed, I limit the liquid intake. Regardless of my constant reminders to drink-as-much-as-you-can at dinner time, I am always greeted with the but-mom-I-am-going-to-die-if-I-don't-get-a-drink complaint as I am turning off their bedroom light.

There was a time when I was extremely thirsty. Thirsty for some form of accomplishment... something to prove to the world that behind the diapers, laundry, and dishes I still existed. I wanted it bad... and I sacrificed for it. My home, my marriage, and my relationship with my children struggled in their backseat ride towards my dreams. Dreams that could not be put on hold. I spent a lot of time blogging, sewing, cooking, writing, editing photos, and reading... assuring myself that once I was accomplished, I would have time for my kids.

The thirst for more, unrealistic expectations, and the "desire to do it all" act as tiny holes placed in the bottom of a cup. Tiny holes that decrease the amount of love, joy, and happiness our souls can hold. Tiny holes that resonate a constant cry of thirsty-ness.

As I unpack my expectations for my new life next to boxes filled with plates and silverware, I am tossing out the cups with holes. Will you join me?


Favorite Posts of the Week:

-- I love these two posts by Emily P. Freeman entitled When Saying You're Sorry is a Bad Idea and How Saying Yes (and no) Shape a Life Story.
-- I love these 10 Points of Joyful Parenting by Ann VosKamp
-- I love this you tube video. My happiness drawer requires an entire compartment dedicated to ants in my pants.

Kindergarten Kindergarten Kindergarten

Conner had his first day of kindergarten today.
His teacher's name is Mrs. Black.
His number is 13.
His symbol is a chick.
He has a blue notebook that holds his important homework.


Class starts at 9:15 am.
He hangs his backpack up and sits at his seat.
He plays on the playground during break.


School is pretty awesome.


For a long time I planned to homeschool my kids. I researched curriculum, studied the philosophies, and joined homeschool groups. I made homeschool notebooks, folders, and activities. I scheduled my days, planned out the minutes, and bookmarked songs on youtube.


All of my personal goals, desires, and thoughts began to revolve around my decision to keep my kids at home. My self image was knitted in homeschooling. I began the process to enroll Conner in an online homeschool program known as K12. I met his teacher, completed the paperwork, and selected the courses we would take. I created homeschool lessons - and taught them while Colton removed his diaper and pranced around the house naked. I homeschooled during nap time, bed time, and everywhere in between.


I loved it... but something did not feel right.
It was demanding, and I could not keep up.


After much discussion, Nate and I decided that homeschooling was not right for Conner this year. I simply could not balance it. I did not have the energy, strength, or ability to homeschool my five-year-old, preschool my three-year-old, and simultaneously keep a diaper on my daring one-year-old who loves to dance on the kitchen table and play in the toilet. I could not do it all.


And at first I felt really guilty.
I should be able to do it all... right?


The answer is No.
No one can do it all and simultaneously maintain their sanity.


For a long time I felt guilty.
Guilty that I could not do more or be more for my child.
What kind of mother am I? Really?



I watched my child interact with his teacher, meet his classmates, and sit at his very own desk today. The big smile on his face erased all of my guilt. His joy taught me that the happiness of my family, and myself, is entirely dependent upon my ability to admit that I can not do it all.


Because sometimes trying to do it all - limits my ability to do anything at all.
Sometimes admitting that I can not do it all provides more balance, happiness, and joy... and I want more of that.

My name is Angie, and I am grateful that I can not do it all... more importantly I am grateful that I do not have to do it all.

Yellow Trucks = The Best Bribe Ever

The holy grail of motherhood bribes has been discovered.

Big Yellow Penske Trucks

For weeks I encouraged my kids to go to bed, brush their teeth, and share their toys all for the sake of the big yellow moving truck.

And you can bet your bottom dollars that it worked.
It worked like magic. Never before have my kids gone to bed without complaint, shared their toys so lovingly, and brushed their teeth without resistance. It was fabulous.






Thank you Penske truck for encouraging my kids to be even more wonderful, obedient, and kind.

Horizons....

One week ago, Nate and I packed up a big yellow moving van.

Surrounded by some of our dearest friends, we said goodbye to the town that was home for five years.

As we turned onto first street for the very last time, I watched the town I love disappear in my horizon. The stores, the parks, the homes of friends - all of the places that once were familiar, home, and mine are now a stored away in my memory. A memory that I will always love.

To all of the amazing friends in Loveland - thank you. Your love, generosity, and friendship amaze me. Thank you for your love. Thank you for your prayers. Thank you for your listening ears, caring hearts, and thoughtful service towards me and my family. Thank you for inspiring me to be a better person. Thank you for sharing five years of your life with me.

Loveland - and everyone in it - I love you.