Try this. Writing your "enough statement". A statement about all the beauty and goodness you see within YOU. Because it's healthy ya know. To love yourself. So put it out there. Make it true. Read it out loud, and then believe it. Believe that you are enough. And then, pretty please with a cherry on top, have the cour[...]
Every morning I snuggle up close to my boys and whisper in their ear that I love them--at least a dozen times. These sweet nothings are followed by kisses. Lots of them. Kisses until they push me away. And while I watch my oldest wipe away the last of my kisses as he giggles from the deepest part of his belly, our eyes meet and I[...]
(via) Here’s the thing about this love story of ours. It’s long. And drawn out. And mushy gushy. And even a bit cheesy. But it’s true. And I’ve decided to take my time writing it, capturing all the special details of those moments I never want to forget. So if mushy-gushy, cheesy love stories aren’t your thing[...]
I was the kind of kid who had to have my book pried from my grasp every night before bed. I was that girl who hid under the sheets with a flashlight until I read all of Ramona Quimby Age 8 in a single night. I remember crying my eyes out when I finished Where the Red Fern Grows, sitting on the edge of my seat through all the Goosebump[...]
I mean, does it really get any better than this? Hill rolling. Good times. Good times. On my way to drop Wes off at preschool this morning I got to thinking about how badly our family needs a vacation. Which got me thinking about all the trips I would like to take to see the many w[...]
Holy tangent! I'll just leave it at that, you'll see. *** There are so many posts that live in my mind for months before I find the words to put them down on paper...so many. This is one of them. Remember my break/quarter-life-crisis/whatever-you-want-to-call-it? Because it's sorta relevant to this post. There's been[...]
At least two days a week I get all teary-eyed while I watch parents warmly embrace their children at the front gates of school as I pick up Wesley in the afternoon. I watch the same routine every day. Parents pull up to the curb, exit their car, readjust their jackets and scarves, put their hands in their pockets and anxiously await[...]
