A Day Begins

I woke up to my husband saying, “no, Jaxon, don’t throw it!” My darling toddler was on my side of the bed about to throw a large ball at his sleepy family. He resisted the urge now that we were all awake. I was up. And so my day had begun…

My husband started to get ready for work and I lifted baby Jeremy from the bed and brought him into the living room and changed his diaper. I changed Jaxon’s diaper. I set the baby up with toys on the floor. I made juice with the toddler and set him up in his high chair with some diluted grape juice. I got dressed. I came back into the living room to check on Jeremy. He had pooped and stained his onesie as well as the carpet. I cleaned him up and changed his clothes. I cleaned the poop stains off the carpet and washed my hands. I cut up an apple and gave Jaxon some. I fixed him a bowl of cereal. I started to make my own breakfast (egg sandwich) while holding the baby. The toddler didn’t want an apple. He wanted a peach. Sorry, buddy, no peaches today. An equal amount of the cereal he ate made it to the floor. He was done. I said bye to my husband, Aaron, as he was leaving for work.

I set the baby down. I wiped and swept the floor. I took Jaxon out of his high chair. I finished making my sandwich. I ate my breakfast in the living room to supervise the boys and keep them safe. I picked up the baby and went into the bathroom to fix my hair and put on a little makeup. Jaxon followed. He pretended to floss his teeth and then found a lid to the bubble container. (Don’t ask.) I opened the door to our porch so he could put the lid where it belonged.

Okay, my foundation was on and my hair was decent. I glanced out of the bathroom as Jaxon picked up the knife from the table I had used to cut the apple. Oops. My fault. “Jaxon, let’s put that knife in the sink.” We cleared the table. I went back in the bathroom and put on my eye liner. Boom! I recognized the sound of the trash can being knocked over. You know that stuff I just cleaned off the floor? Yep, back on the floor plus a lot more. Jaxon and I cleaned up the mess. I put on a little blush. Jaxon came into the bathroom and opened the potty. Well, that was enough make up for today. Why do I even wear makeup?

We left the bathroom. I got the toddler dressed. Well, partially. I breastfed the baby. I fed our pet birds with much help from Jaxon and no birdseed spills. I even managed a short toddler tantrum!

All of this took place in one hour. You heard me. ONE hour. Just one. One hour from opening my eyes. Not a minute more.

This is not a bad morning. This is my usual morning. This was a great morning, actually. This was a morning I met all of our needs, kept everyone safe, AND kept my cool while doing it.

So, what does the first hour of your day look like?


Are They All Yours?

“Are they all yours?” That can be an awkward and vague question especially if you have a blended family. Most would answer, “of course they are,” unless you happen to run a daycare or collect kids like your nephews, nieces, and friends’ kids. Then you might specify which ones are yours. But seriously, who wants to say, “oh, this is my STEP-daughter” or “these two are ADOPTED”. As if that makes them any less your children. It’s just a bad question.

But I have a new answer for that if I ever get asked. “None of them are mine.” These are God’s and I’m just a blessing from God in their lives like they are a blessing to me.

Let me clarify. I don’t have the right to treat them however I please. I have a mandate to help them become the best they can be. I have a mission to treat them as I would want to be treated and to lay down my life for them. I am not responsible for their choices. I am only responsible for mine. I am privileged to be their most influential shepherd for a short season and to be God’s hand in their lives.

My children are not my property or possession. They belong to God. Although they are of great value to me, they are of even greater value to Him. I must let go and trust in His great wisdom. I don’t know what will happen in the future. But I do know that He will guide my children and help them when I can’t. For they are His, and I am just His humble servant.

Instead of saying, “yes, they are ALL mine,” I would rather think of them as God’s kids entrusted to my care. They are not a burden or stress. They are a blessing. And I hope that God will help me become a great blessing to them.

I would like to end this post with a beautiful poem written by my husband’s grandmother about her two boys.

Letting Go

Written by C. Miller

For nine months I carried you,

I thought you were mine.

Through your young years,

I thought you were mine.

You began to speak and through your young voice

I heard the wisdom of the ages.

You were no longer mine.

God created you and allowed me to hold you for a time.

You brought me comfort and joy and love.

I no longer thought you were mine.

Heavenly Father, thank you for these two pleasures in my life.

Thank You for the opportunity to be a vessel.

It is my great pleasure to give up the illusion,

They are Yours.

Five Reasons I Want More Children

I have two children; the number of children that many people stop at. Most of my friends’ goal is to have two kids total and maybe three. That’s it. Their children have a sibling and so mom’s childbearing days are done. I’m not done. I can’t imagine being done. The thought of my seven month old one day sleeping in his own bed away from me is saddening. Here are five reasons I want more children.

1. Tomorrow is not guaranteed. This might seem like a good reason to NOT have more, but I see it differently. What if by some tragedy my current two children died and I had no one in my old age to visit me. Or what if one died and the other didn’t have the support of another sibling. Even my husband’s life is not guaranteed, if he died tomorrow and I then discovered I was pregnant, I would be overjoyed to have one more child to remember my husband by.

2. The next child could be a great thinker, pastor, evangelist, writer, or inventor. How could I deprive the world of such a great person? How could I know what my third or fourth or fifth will become? Maybe they will save thousands! After all, most babies become adults one day. What if some of our great leaders had never been born?

3. I want to be surrounded with children until I die. Children brighten my mood and bring energy to my heart. Children are fun and full of life. I want children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren to be a big part of my life, especially when I am much older. The best way to insure that I have grandchildren is to have more children now.

4. Riches are temporary, children are eternal. Children cost some money. They eat, drink, need clothes and shelter. But how could I desire a more comfortable life for myself over giving the gift of life to my child? I believe children are much more valuable than anything else I could spend time and money on.

5. Working hard makes me stronger. Raising my children, learning patience and self-control and other virtues is hard. But anytime I work hard at something, I am learning and growing. I’m becoming a better person. If having more children means I become stronger, bring it on.


To be able to cry is a beautiful gift. I mean a true and deep cry that goes beyond what is generally accepted in public. I mean a cry that expresses those buried wounds. That is where healing is found. What a miracle it is that we can heal ourselves emotionally by just allowing a great cry!

It’s hard to find someone to whom you can truly cry. Crying is quite uncomfortable for most people to witness. I feel uncomfortable when someone cries in front of me. These thoughts go through my head:

“Did I make them cry? Should I say something? Should I be quiet and act like this is normal? Should I give them some space and time or a hug? What should I do!?”

I think the reason I feel uncomfortable when people cry might be because I have my own hurts inside that need to be released with a good cry. Maybe I didn’t have an ear I could trust in a moment I needed to cry so I held it in a while longer. And that little while turned into a long while and now I don’t even know what I needed to cry about.

Maybe when I needed to cry it wasn’t received with a firm hug and a “do you want to talk about it?”. Maybe I didn’t feel safe to cry. Maybe I was afraid someone would tell me I shouldn’t be crying.

But what if I was okay with crying when needed? And what if more people were comfortable with being around someone who is crying? What if I could be strong for you and you could be strong for me? It might be a good thing. For then all the crying could be done and then great happiness would ensue!

Isn’t it true that the greatest times of inner peace and true happiness are after the hardest cries? Likewise, the most beautiful skies are seen after great storms.

Crying is a precious gift. If someone feels safe enough to cry to you, receive it with open arms.