It feels like forever since I’ve been on here to blog. In actuality, it’s been nearly a year. It has been a year of change and growth for me. It’s hard to feel like you can put pen to paper when you are in the middle of figuring it out yourself. Then there is the challenge of determining how much […]
As a mother of seven children I have learned a lot over the years. My oldest son is almost 25 years old and my youngest daughter is 6. When my oldest son was born I was only 21 years old. I am turning 46 this week! Age doesn’t bother me, but holy moly, I’m almost 50! How did that happen? In my head I’m still in my early 30’s. Does that count for anything? Anyone else stop aging internally? It’s safe to say that who I am as a person has changed A LOT over the course of my 25 years of parenting life. In many ways, I have grown up right alongside my oldest son. My life experiences and exposures to the greater world around me has chipped off pieces of me and added others, resulting in the person I am today. Some of those chipping and adding experiences were more pleasant than others. Last month a few of my home school mom friends and I got together for a “digital home school conference”. Meaning we went to a friends house and watched several video sessions, from various speakers in the home school community, who had spoken at a conference earlier in the year. One of the speakers made a statement that has left me reflecting. She said, “Don’t take parenting advice from someone who doesn’t have adult children.” There was only one other mom in the room who […]
I recently had the opportunity to write for our adoption agency’s blog. The below link is that piece.
Have you ever spent time with someone who’s physical presence made you feel loved? Or even just hearing their voice gave you a sense of being loved. For me that person was my Grandma Bea – my dad’s mother. I didn’t spend much time with her growing up. I only have a handful of memories of her from my actual childhood even though she only lived about two hours away from us. I’m not really clear as to why we didn’t spend much time together during my growing up years. I’m sure there were reasons. I know that my own mother is extremely introverted and and social gatherings beyond our small immediate family were few and far between. Also, my Grandma Bea was still busy raising a houseful of young daughters during my childhood. In my early 20’s I started going to visit my Grandma Bea. At the time I was a young mother and my parents had just divorced, rather unexpectedly to us kids. We were all adults at the time but it remains to this day one of the most life altering experiences I have ever walked through. (Side note – fight for your marriage – I was in my early 20’s when my parents divorced and it was still devastating.) At the time, I was desperate for a mother in my life. I needed someone to encourage me as I was just learning how to walk the […]
I am a planner. I like order and for things to be in their place. It feels good to me if my pantry veggies are all lined up in neat rows with the labels facing forward for me to see them. If I start something I finish it. I live for the hour on laundry day that all the hampers in my house are empty. And then… the end of the day hits and my kids take showers and it starts all over again. But that short window of time when it’s all done is glorious to me. Maybe that’s why it has taken me nearly three years to finally officially start writing. I want a clear plan. I want to know what steps two, three, four and five will look like so that I can know exactly how it will be accomplished. I want to see the cans all lined up. “What am I waiting for?” It’s a question I have asked myself more times than I can count. I write at home for pleasure. I write on social media and have written guest posts on blogs. I have even submitted my own writing for a devotional book. I enjoy writing. I have written and spoken to groups of women on many occasions. So why then do I keep waiting? The honest answer is: I have fear. Fear of failing. Fear of criticism. Fear of getting in over my […]
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