Goodnight, My Angel Love

This day comes every year.  The day where I have no beautiful words, so I cling to those others have written.  Songs where heartbreak and loss and grief thread together a chorus that echoes the ache I feel in my heart.

Grief may dull with time and become an ache instead of a piercing pain.  But it remains with us always.  I've learned that grief is not an enemy, but our friend.

Although it hurts, without grief, we would be void of love.  It is a testament to the deep love that we have for someone when our hearts ache so terribly once they are gone.  It is a way for our loved ones to live on even when they have flown away. 

Our grief means that they existed.

Our grief means they were loved.

Our grief means they mattered, no matter how long or short their life.

They were precious here on earth.

And now they are precious to heaven.

Such a short time

Such a long road  

All this madness  

But I know  

That the silence  

Has brought me to His voice  

And He says…
I’ve shown her photographs of time beginning  

Walked her through the parted seas 

Angel lullabies, no more teary eyes  

Who could love her like this?

So I will carry you 

While your heart beats here  

Long beyond the empty cradle 

Through the coming years  

I will carry you 

 

Guest Post: Consequences and Positive Parenting

I first met Susan through BlogFrog when she shared a series on discipline.  I was immediately hooked on her blog.  I am a firm believer that discipline is "teaching" and that there are far more constructive methods of parenting our children than those supported by mainstream practices.  I learned so much from her that I asked if she would be willing to share a post summarizing her series on discipline.

Do you spank your children? Is it working? Consequences do not need to be physically hurtful, demeaning, humiliating, or full of nagging and scolding. The trick is to reward positive behavior and have established consequences for poor behavior. Remain calm and remember you are the role model and example of good behavior. Three questions to ask when delivering a consequence are:

• Is it justified?
• Is it respectful?
• Is it reasonable?

TIPS ON CONSEQUENCES

Together discuss and establish rules and consequences before undesirable behavior occurs and tempers are out of control. Here are some tips:

• Clearly and simply state expectations according to your child's ability to understand.
• Briefly give the reason behind your expectation.This will teach children to think logically.
• Make consequences reasonable, respectful, predictable, consistent and reliable.
• If a child ignores an expectation, briefly state the consequence. Younger children may need a reminder before you enforce a consequence. However, if that warning is purposefully ignored, immediately follow through with the consequence and stick to it.
• If you want children to listen to you the first time, then you must follow through on expected consequences, each and every time.

Don’t set consequences you won’t keep or make ridiculous threats you have no intention of enforcing. That is why it is important to have already thought-through consequences. Do not feel guilty about enforcing a consequence. The child made the wrong choice. You may want to use empathy, such as acknowledging that you realize the child has had an important privilege taken away, but the next time they will know that you mean what you say and follow through every time. 

Too much has already gone wrong if you slap or spank a child. Prevention, good role modeling, praise, and established rules and consequences will lessen the need for consequences. You may be interested in my post Caught Being Good.

  

Spiritually Speaking printable

TIPS FOR INCREASING GOOD BEHAVIOR

• Limit time children spend in front of electronic gadgets. Real back-and-forth communication and interaction is necessary for growth in vocabulary, expression, comprehension and social skills. Pre-approve electronic games or tv shows checking for violence, disrespectful attitudes, or words and actions that you do not want your child to imitate.

• Allow children to experience logical consequences. They will become better prepared to make the right choices when you are not around.

• Structure the environment to support appropriate behavior. Young children need action. They need time for hard physical play to release stress, learn social skills, develop motor skills, and to just be a kid. Children learn from using blocks, paint, crayons, scissors, glue, playdough, water, sand, puzzles, swings, and natural outdoor materials. Young children need activities that are just right for their age. The goal is for children to accomplish what they can do. Hands-on discovery through using the five senses enhances the joy and meaning of learning and extends the learning time.

• Treat children with unconditional love. It is the behavior that is unacceptable—the child is loved no matter what has happened.

Parents are the most important people in a young child's life. Be a model of good behavior to help them grow into respectful, happy, creative, contributing members of our society.

You can visit Susan at her blog Kindergarten & Preschool for Parents & Teachers.  For a glimpse into Kindergarten, see her book: Kindergarten: Tattle-Tales, Tools, Tactics, Triumphs and Tasty Treats for Teachers and Parents. Now available in print on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Also available for Kindle and soon for the Nook: The Happy Mommy Handbook: The Ultimate How-to Guide on Keeping Your Toddlers and Preschoolers Busy, Out of Trouble and Motivated to Learn. 

Letter to my little one waiting in Heaven

Source

 

Dear Lovey,

 
I have thought of you every day for four years, but you already know that, don't you?  I know God passes on my daily messages to you.  He's a very patient courier.

I miss you as much as I ever did.  They say time heals all wounds, but I think it just gives you time to get used to how they feel so you know how to endure the pain.

But this is July, so I miss you even more now.  

Four years.  The tears that spring to my eyes and the pain in my chest defy that it's been that long.  Wasn't it just yesterday that your papa and I were holding hands as the doctor showed us your tiny heartbeat?  I stare at that photo still, but I can't see your features any better now than I could that day.  It's the only picture I have of you, so I try so hard to see you in it, but you are just a little jellybean.  So tiny.

I wonder what you look like now, in heaven, where your body is whole and perfect.  I'm still here on earth, so you are much wiser in the ways of the heavenly realm than your naive mama, but I picture you growing up there.  Are the angels your playmates?  Do they watch over you very carefully?  They might be angels, but that doesn't mean they are good babysitters.  Do you play hide and seek with sunbeams?  Your little sister, Paityn, loves the moon.  Do you help God hang it in the skies at night so she can see it? 

I don't talk about you much anymore, and I wonder if you are feeling left out.  I wanted to explain to you that it's not because I don't miss you or that I love you any less.  (Mama's hearts are funny things, you know.  They only grow bigger, never smaller.)  

It's just that people don't really understand.  They were always telling me that if you were here, your little sisters might not be.  Or that there was probably a reason you flew to heaven- maybe there was something wrong with your body.  

They mean well, but they just don't get it.

They don't understand that grief isn't logical, and all the reasons in the world don't make me miss you less.  I wish all my three babies were with me, and wishes don't have to make logical sense.  They are the deepest cravings of our heart.  

Besides, it makes people uncomfortable when grief goes on past a certain time period.  It's hard for them to understand how I can still have a broken heart four years later.  In time, I have learned to carry my grief and speak of it only when it can help others who have to say goodbye too soon to their own little loves.

Only four years since our goodbye.  Forty-four years from now, I will still cry for you.  I will still be sending you messages through my prayers.  I will still be asking God if He could kiss you for me and squeeze you tight.  And I will still spend the month of July missing you the most of any other time.

This month, I watched the fireworks on the Fourth and thought of how I stood there in Monterey watching them while you were safe in my tummy.  They showed them on the tv, and I watched them for a few minutes and missed you.  Do you remember how I stood with my hands over you?  

I look at pictures from that trip, and I see such happiness in my face. I couldn't wait to meet you, to hold you in my arms, and the months until you would be born seemed impossibly long.

I won't speak of the grief of those weeks once I lost you.  You, my little love, can never fully understand grief because it doesn't exist where you live.  Do you even know what it means when God tells you that I miss you?  Or is that feeling completely foreign to you as well?  You must be far more familiar with love, joy, and laughter.  I'm glad you don't understand my grief.  There are blessings in pain, and that is one of them.  You will never experience anything other than utter and complete beauty in the eternity that marks your existence.

Time marches on, little one.  Here on earth and there in heaven.  Only your time marches into forever and mine is marked by the distance of my life until I finally meet you.  I miss you, so very much, but I'm not in a rush to join you.  I have your little sisters still to love and care for and watch grow, and they need me.  I know that you can wait a while for me still, so I will divide my heart between heaven and earth for now.  You keep holding onto the piece of my heart that flew away with you when you left, all right, love? I've learned to manage without it.

I'm sure by now you are trying to squirm away from Jesus as He reads this to you and run back to dance with rainbows and throw stars into the Milky Way.  I'm sorry I'm rambling so.  It's just that it is hard for me to fit everything I want to express to you into mere words. 

I love you so very, very much.  It will feel like forever to me, but for you, it will feel like moments until we meet.  And when we do, be ready for me to never let you go again.


All my love,

Mama

Wordful Wednesday - A foggy beach day

 

"The Bay Area is so beautiful, I hesitate to preach about heaven while I'm here. "
~Billy Graham

I grew up in upstate New York where, in my town, "going to the beach" meant one of two things.  Either you were going to Yamen Beach, a tiny man-made beach next to a tiny lake that was really more of a pond, or you were going to one of the Finger Lakes, which meant cold water and shoes because it's all rocks.  Not really your typical beach visit.

Then I moved to the Bay Area.  I love it here.  To me, the strange weather, completely unexpected when you think of California, only adds to the charm.  I love watching the fog roll in across the mountains and blanket the cities in its white cloak.  I love that we often wear jeans and sweatshirts to the beach.  I love that we rarely do more than dip our toes in the water without a wet suit.  

It is just odd and different and unexpected and unique and beautiful.

And I suppose, since I never grew up with typical beach trips, it feels comfortably familiar while at the same time being completely different.

A few weekends ago, we spent the day at a beach in Carmel with some friends, and it was actually a pleasant day.   Don't let the overcast skies fool you.  It's just how we roll out here.  In some of the pictures, you can see the fog drifting in off the ocean and flowing down the mountains.

I so love it here.

 

 

 

Linking up with these wonderful blogs: 

Angry Julie Monday
Naptime Momtog  
Baby Baby Lemon
The Paper Mama 
Parenting By Dummies
Project Alicia

Guest Post: Edible Toddler Art

I'm so excited to share today's guest post from Mandi at Sweet Tiny Blessings.  I've been following Mandi for quite a while, and I'm so honored to be sharing a post from her today.

Mandi is a former teacher turned stay-at-home mom to her own Sweet Tiny Blessing, Baby C. Just three short weeks after giving birth, she was sent to the hospital with retained placenta.  Shortly after her D&C, she was diagnosed with an E.Coli Infection and a kidney stone.  And just two days later, Baby C was admitted into the hospital with Bacterial Spinal Meningitis from Salmonella. Mandi firmly believe it was through God's healing hand that she and Baby C came through their illnesses.

I love reading Mandi's blog because in spite all that she and her daughter endured at a very vulnerable time of their lives, she counts her blessings and has such a cheerful spirit.  Her blog is full of giveways, stories of faith and love, and, of course, a good dose of the adorable Baby C!

You can follow Mandi at Sweet Tiny Blessings, Twitter, or Facebook.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Do you find it very difficult to find crafts to do with your one year old?  You're not alone!  Because Baby C still puts everything in her mouth, I need our crafts to be safe and edible.  That's why I love edible finger paint.

Edible finger paint is so easy to make and there is so much you can do with it.  The only ingredients you need are yogurt and food coloring.  Then just grab some paper and get crafty!  You can use the finger paint like, well, finger paint.  Or, another great way to use finger paint is marble painting.  I love this craft because it's great for all ages.

What you need for marble painting:

• finger paint
• paper
• marbles
• container with lid

How to create a marble painting:

1. Fit paper into container (I taped it down).
2. Add a little finger paint in any colors.
3. Place marble in container and add lid.
4. Shake, rattle and roll!

Tip: don't use as much finger paint as I did.  A little goes a long way.

Marble Art by Baby C

Another fun craft with finger paint (that I'm excited to try) is tape masterpiece.  

What you need for tape masterpiece:

• finger paint
• canvas
• masking tape

How to create a tape masterpiece:

1. Tape out initials, name or message on canvas.
2. Finger paint covering entire canvas.
3. Let dry.
4. Remove tape. 

What are your favorite crafts to do with toddlers? 

When adoption makes us liars

We had our second to last homestudy a few weeks ago.  Our case worker kindly went over the finalization process and explained what would happen.

"You fill out this form and this one.  Make sure to make three copies.  Then you file with the court.  They will give you a finalization date."

Nothing terribly out of the ordinary.  Typical bureaucracy.  I nodded along as I took careful notes.

"Then they will amend the birth certificate and put your name and your husband's name on it before they seal the old one."

The casualness of the statement stung.  My pen paused and my mouth tightened almost imperceptibly.  I held my tongue, which is certainly a challenge for me.  But, in my head, I raged.

In the short time since we adopted my daughter, I have learned much about the adoption process.  Olivia's adoption occurred so suddenly and quickly that I did not do my usual "research until you are annoyingly knowledgeable about the subject" that is so typical of the scientist in me.

In my original naivete, I did not think they still sealed adoption records.  After all, most adoptions are open now, and this isn't 1950, right?  When Livie's first parents helped us name her and our last name went on her original birth certificate, I ignorantly assumed there would now be no need to alter her birth certificate to change her last name.  It wasn't until a month later that I found out, through my research, that this is not the case.

When our adoption is finalized, the court will amend Livie's birth certificate.  Our names will be listed as her mother and father of birth and our county as her county of birth.

One of the first acts the state forces us to make as Livie's legal parents is to lie to our daughter.

I did not give birth to Olivia.  Dan is not her genetic father.  She was not born in our county.

After her amended birth certificate is issued and the adoption is final, Olivia's real birth certificate, her truth and heritage, will be sealed.  She would have to petition the state to unseal it, and they can deny her request.

Of course, I have her original birth certificate, tucked away and kept safely for her.  We have a completely open adoption and have no intention of keeping any of this from her.  In a way, this makes me even angrier that we are forced to comply with a law that requires our complicity in what I consider fraud.

Fraud.  That, oh State of California, is the "intentional deception made for personal gain or to damage another individual."  What if we intended to keep Olivia's adoption a secret from her?  What if we declined to share her truth?  Legally, her history would be wiped from the slate, unavailable to her.  Legally, I could maintain this lie forced upon us.  Many have.  That is also not a relic from the previous generation; there are indeed adoptive parents who keep their child's adoption a secret.  The laws of our states enable parents to have this option.

I should not be granted that kind of power over another human being.  The power to keep her from knowing one the most basic of human needs: Where did I come from?  No one should be able to keep that a secret from another person, especially not through actual laws.

According to all-knowing Wikipedia, a "birth certificate is a vital record that documents the birth of a child."

That is, unless you are adopted.

In that case, you get a special "birth" certificate.  "In the United States, when an legal adoption is finalized adopted, the government seals the original birth certificate and will issue a replacement birth certificate substituting the individual's birth name with the name selected by the adoptive parents, and replacing and birth parents' names with the adoptive parents. In those cases, adopted individuals are not granted access to their own original birth certificates upon request."

 A "replacement birth certificate."  I suppose that sounds more PC than "false," "fake," or "phony."

In adoption, the answer to "Where did I come from?" is made into a lie.

Livie's mother carried her for nine long months.  She went through hours of labor to give Olivia life.  Her mother was the first person to hold her, to count her fingers and toes, to cry tears over her.  Livie's father is the man who was there for her mother as her entire support system.  He was the one who held her hand during those long hours at the hospital.  And he held his daughter in his arms and marveled over her beauty, finding himself in her features.

They gave Olivia life.

Their names belong on Olivia's birth certificate.  They deserve it.  Olivia deserves it.  And above all else, it is the truth.

The birth of a child is miraculous.  It is raw beauty and utter power.  It is nature at its finest moment.  In that moment of pure truth, falsifying part of it is sacrilegious.  It is wrong. 

We love our daughter, and we are her mom and dad.  We change her diapers, feed her, laugh with her, care for her.  But her first parents are also her mom and dad.  They gave birth to her and made a difficult choice, one that should be respected, not hidden or negated.

Olivia is deserving of knowing her heritage.  Our other daughter, Paityn, will never have to worry about her birth certificate.  It contains the truth of her birth.  Her sister's, simply because Olivia is adopted, will not.  It will be a paper that is lies and falsification.  It angers me that this disparity in equality will exist between my children. 

On that day when the judge pronounces us as Olivia's legal parents, there will be a shadow over my happiness.  What should be a completely joyful day will contain a drop of bitterness because of a lie we do not want created.

When our family is formally and legally bound together, the state is also taking away something incalculably precious from my daughter: a portion of her identity.  A part of her that her dad and I are proud of, that we celebrate, and that we embrace.  The state seeks to nullify it.  To erase it.  To seal it from all eyes.  Our signatures will be demanded; our complicity is the only path towards legally caring for our daughter.

And adoption forces us to be liars.

Partially inspired by The Declassified Adoptee's account of her own falsified birth certificate. 

I am working to determine how I can best help enact change in the area of Adoptee Rights.  As an adoptive parent, I feel that it is part of my job to help work towards my daughter's equal right to her original birth certificate.  The two places I am starting are the Adoptee Rights Coalition and California Open.

Guest Post: In which my mother shares about me

One of my earliest visits to church.

What was I like when I was a baby?  As a toddler?  

You a were beautiful, sweet baby; a little bit of colic, but the swing soothed you. Most of the time, you were a happy baby.  You loved your pink blankie, if you got uncovered at night, you cried until we put it back over you. You loved baths and being rocked. As a toddler, you tried keeping up with your sister- you were walking at ten months.  You loved french fries (Some things never change) and stuffed animals.

Me and my pink blankie.  I still have that blanket, although it's quite worn and not nearly as pink.  (Notice the two different shoes?)

What are some of your favorite memories of me?

I love the time you had to have pockets on your clothes.   The trip to Marineland.  The Bible study nights going home when you practically bounced down the street. (Ah, yes, hours of playing with my best friend really ramped me up!)  When we picked out Tom T at the SPCA (my beloved kitty cat).  Devotions with you at night in your room.  Your graduation from high school and your party afterwards.  Your loving presence at the hospital after my cancer surgery. Your wedding day.  The day you gave birth to Paityn.

Going down the slide with mom, my big sister looking on.

What did you worry about for us when we were kids?

I really worried when you kids were sick.  And about finances to provide for what you needed and what we would like to give you.  I worried that I might not be around to see you out on your own.

At what age would you have frozen me if you could have?

I would have frozen you at the age of two. I don't remember the terrible twos with you at all. (No, I saved them for when I was 15!) It was a fun age to watch you grow.

Dad and I.

What is your greatest wish for your children?

That they and their children know that God is wonderful, awesome, and loves them more than I could, and that they can trust Him for anything and everything.  (That's a beautiful wish.)

What was your favorite family vacation?

My favorite family vacation was Delta Lake- so much fun camping, seeing friends, watching you and Jenn (my older sister) have fun, feeling a sense of "bigger family."  (It's really true- we camped with the same people every year, knew almost everyone around, and I really felt at home there.

What is the hardest part about being a mom?

The hardest part about being a mom is to see how fast the years go by and not be able to stop them.  (I am already seeing this is so true.)

Mom's three babies.  Slowly growing up.

And the most rewarding?

The most rewarding part about being a mother is seeing my children happy with their families.  Of course, I'm hoping that will happen with your brother, too.  (My little brother is ten years younger than me and loves being single.)  Just knowing someone loves you very much and will care for you and provide what you need. 

You fought breast cancer with such amazing grace and strength.  How would you encourage other mothers who are facing a life-threatening illness?

I got through my cancer trusting God to give me all that I needed just for one more day at a time, and me doing whatever it took to get me well again for my family.  (One of the most beautiful moments of my life was seeing you at my wedding, just a month after your surgery.  Present with us.  On the road to recovery.  Safe.)

Mom and I at my wedding.  One of the few pictures where I see the resemblance between us that others more commonly see.

Did I ever have a friend you didn’t like?

I don't think you ever had friends that I knew of that I didn't like.  (Such a typical thing for my mom- she sees the good in absolutely everyone.  I had quite a few really awful friends.  Not in terms of bad influences, but just not nice girls.)
 

What did you learn about yourself once you became a mother?

I learned I wanted to be like my mom.  (Mission accomplished, then!  Just like Grandma, you possess a selfless and giving spirit.  I truly think the word "grace" was created just for you and Grandma.)

With my sweet Grandma. Mom reminds me so much of her.

Do you feel that your job as a mom is every done?  How does it change as we kids grow up?

Being a mom is for as long as I live; I'm never done.  As you have grown, I have to realize that I can't do it for you, and sometimes I feel guilty for not being enough or doing enough when you were with me.  (Mom, you were always enough and then some!) 

If you and I could take any vacation to anywhere, where would we go?

 

To Prince Edward Island.  I have fond memories of watching you enjoy Anne of Green Gables and Avonlea on TV and enjoying the book.  (I loved watching those with you!)

We were probably watching Avonlea.

You make marriage seem easy when I know it’s anything but; what’s your secret?

Accept your spouse for who they are, and always be willing to give forgiveness and ask for it.  Keep God in the center. 

What is the best piece of advice you can give me when parenting Olivia and Paityn?

Trust your heart and treasure your children.

Grandma and her girls.

It's a cliche for a reason

"Don't blink or it will be over."

"Treasure every moment." 
 
"They grow up so fast."

Time has this trick of seeming to speed up as we age.

In reality, it is going no faster than it ever did.  I didn't need those two tear-inducing semesters of physics to know that time is a constant, and it is only our perception that is altered.

Everyone tells you to enjoy your children while you can.  But, sometimes, it's hard to enjoy every moment. 

The messy diapers and 2:00 am feedings.  The toddler tantrums and endless bedtime rituals.  The spit up on your work clothes minutes before you need to leave the house for a meeting.  The worry-filled nights of sickness and changing soiled bed sheets.

I can never say that I savor these moments with my children.  They certainly the moments I want to take a picture to look back and fondly remember.  These are the moments I drag myself through.

And yet, it is in these moments, the mundane and the frustrating, that I am creating an everlasting bond with my children.

I recall the beautiful times with my parents.  Nights by the bonfire during our summer camping trips.  Dancing with my mother to Christmas music with gold garland wrapped around us both.  Feet propped up on my father's desk while I colored pictures for him to decorate his basement office.

But some of the most vivid memories are those moments I'm sure my parents were silently groaning to themselves and desperately wishing were over. 

Being washed with my mother's gentle hands after being sick in the middle of the night and then my dad tucking me into clean sheets. 

Long car rides starting at 4:00 am when my dad would take me and my best friend to riding camp.

Sleepovers and birthday parties and friends over constantly and never a word about the hassle it all must have been.

Seemingly endless piano recitals my mother endured twice a year so that she could madly clap and cheer for me.

Long nights finishing school projects because I was a procrastinator even at six years old.

In these moments, the mundane and the frustrating, my parents formed a relationship with me. And I have never forgotten those times. 

Time flies.

It certainly does.

I try remember this as I struggle to keep my eyes open at 2:00 am when Olivia needs a bottle.  I take a deep breath and try remember this when Paityn wants to eat breakfast at 6:00 am.

I cannot say that I will savor these moments any more by reminding myself of their importance. But I hope I am able to view them in a different light by seeing that they hold as much, if not more, importance as the more beautiful moments.

It is these memories, the ones I would be glad to forget or not even experience, that they will remember.

Stop by tomorrow for a post where my mom answers all my random questions!

Guest Post: Peace in Parenting

I'm so excited to share today's guest post from Miranda at A ThankFULL Heart. She's one of my oldest "bloggy" friends, and I'm delighted to be sharing her words with you today.

Miranda, who married her high school sweetheart (I know, straight out of the movies, right?  So sweet.) is mommy to a rambunctious two-year-old.  She started her blog to keep track of her many blessings and to remind herself to always be thankful for each of them.  Miranda blogs about being a mommy, a wife, and trying to keep her sanity through it all. 

You can follow Miranda at A ThankFULL Heart, Pinterest, Twitter, or Facebook.

Parenting is everything I hoped it would be and more and so much more exhausting than I ever knew possible. Every emotion is maximized further than I’ve ever experienced. One day is blissfully easy, and the next day is hard. Parenting is often just that: unpredictable.

With every new experience and every new challenge, I’ve come to one conclusion: I am enough. Every era in time has some sort of conflict that often pits moms against each other. It’s so sad, really. There’s so many things that I could be stressed about, but as long as the important things are taken care of I really don’t need to worry. What does worry accomplish anyway? Here’s some ways I find peace in my parenting: 

Playtime: I drop what I’m doing, be it dishes or sweeping or other household chore that can wait, and I play with my daughter. I really love outdoor play in the summer time since our winter’s don’t make it very easy to enjoy the outside. We play in the sandbox, have wagon rides, swing, slide or make sidewalk art. It doesn’t take long before she doesn’t need me and so I go get a book and read it outside in my lawn chair. The sunshine really calms my mind and running outside really burns off a lot of my daughter’s energy. It provides an opportunity for bonding and I’m reminded that often when my daughter is grumpy or irritable it’s simply because she wants my attention!

Schedule: I’m not big on a strict, regimented routine but I do love some sort of structure. If I plan out my menu plan and to-do list before hand, it really eliminates a lot of stress from being ill-prepared. I like knowing what to make for dinner and even being able to put everything in the slow cooker before hand, so I’m not overwhelmed when my daughter needs me during meal-making. I like being organized so I’m not completely frazzled when something unexpected comes up like messes or potty breaks. It doesn’t always work out as planned but I do try to do a little bit of planning beforehand. 

Relax: It’s okay to not be completely busy all of the time! I do love browsing Pinterest for meal ideas but often I come across ideas that I wish I could do. Sewing seems to be a passion for many moms but it has never piqued my interest. I’ve learned that it’s okay that I don’t do everything. I’m not super crafty and although I download a lot of free, fun PDFs for my daughter to enjoy, they all just sit on my hard drive. And while my daughter doesn’t spend a lot of time doing crafts or tracing letters, she gets a lot of real-life lessons simply be observing me {keeps my accountable :)}.

Every mom has her own strengths. My motto has always been to do what works for you. We all know our own children and what their strengths are and we all have different tools we use to bring that out. Let’s stand strong and unite together because most of us all the same goal in mind - to raise great children. Let’s bring each other up and not tear each other down. 

How do you find peace in parenting?