All Ye Heavy Laden

I don’t want to complain tonight, but can I be real? I’m tired. I will be 41 in nine days. I have been at this motherhood thing for twenty-two years, and I still have eleven to go until my youngest is 18. That’s thirty-three years, y’all. Thirty-three years of cleaning up after little people, breaking up arguments, fixing broken toys, birthday parties, tantrums (oh yes, I am still dealing with that…)

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Borrowed Children

It’s a bright, sunny day here in the Pacific Northwest, and I have an hour before I have to pick up my kids from school. I promised myself that I would clean my perpetually messy house during this hour of solitude. But God had other plans.

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The Beauty of Tomorrow

person in hoodie looking at a starry sky

I had a very productive day today. I washed, dried, folded, and PUT AWAY four loads of laundry. (I know right?) I also washed the dishes- which I must admit is not a daily thing in my house, sadly.

After my cleaning spree, the kids and I ran five errands which included trips to Walmart AND Winco. After unloading and putting away the groceries, I cooked a very simple dinner for the kids and took a bath.

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Seek Ye First

a blur of people rushing across a busy, city street

I think I have finally figured out what my problem is: I’m addicted to self-improvement.

I don’t know when it first started, but I think it was probably about seven years ago after I had my fourth child. I hardly liked anything about myself. I didn’t like my body, I didn’t feel like I was a good enough mom or wife, I yelled too much, etc. 

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