The Little Tease...

Sweet little conversation between me and my little one...

Sammy: Hi Mommy. Hi MOM.
Me: Sammy -"Mom" is for 14 year old boys. You are my baby. I am Mommy.
Sammy: OK Mommy.

A second later with this mischievous little grin...
Hi MOM.

And it's been Mom ever since. With a little giggle and a little grin. Little stinker.

Progress

Well looky there. I missed a day of NaBloPoMo and the world did not fall apart. My computer did not blow up. My blog is still here where I left it. And even in the face of imperfection, I am not abandoning the blog. I am back for another day. Chalk up one for breaking the all or nothing cycle one insignificant moment at a time.

And that's all I got.

The Seat of Champions

*NOTE: Mommy blog alert. The following post contains blatant "Mommy blog" undertones, presenting subject matter of potty's, tinkles, and other references that once made my un-mommy heart wonder "Why on earth are you sharing this with me?". (To all I thought that about - I sincerely apologize. )


It's a brand new day people. Attempt one, day one in the world of potty training. And through it all I am learning that all those quizzes that ask if your child is ready are so unnecessary. The question they SHOULD be asking: Is MOMMY ready?

What a day. A LOT of excited trips to the potty (this kid LOVES to sit on his little throne). A handful of jelly bean incentives. Brand new "big boy gitchy". One little "accident", and one priceless moment at the end of a long day of nothing... the sound I never thought would be music to my ears... a little tinkle. Followed by ABSOLUTE DELIGHT, euphoria, ear to ear grinning, cheering and dancing between Mommy and child.


And one life lesson for the day: "Sammy, look at Mommy. Look into Mommy's eyes. Now listen. Sam, Never EVER, Never NEVER...Sammy listen to Mommy. Look in my eyes. NEVER. Sam stand still. Listen. Never ever EVER EVER again put your hands in the toilet. EVER." Oh bless my germaphobic heart. Sigh

Time Marching On to the Beat of a Traumatic Drum

11:27 pm and still no inspiration for the day. I decided to head over to NaBloPoMo headquarters to scoop out a topic for the evening. Today's topic -"Has anything traumatic ever happened to you?"

Well. As a matter of fact, this very evening, a little interaction between my dear husband and myself may just qualify to fit in the trauma department. We were occupying ourselves with a little evening television when a commercial came on. It was one of those banking, or insurance, or future investment sort of deals where a father in his fifties was yearning for an early retirement and ease of living as he juggled the financial burdens of his busy family. You know the type. They are the ones I usually fast forward.

So Harv throws out, "Hmmm. 50. That is eleven years from now."

At first I chuckled...thinking that he was teasing me. Somewhat like he does in late spring after the long loooooong winter when he points out a yellow leaf and informs me that the fall season is dawning.

And then I did the math.

Eleven years! We have been married 11 years! It has gone by in a blink. That means one more blink and we are the people in the commercials, checking out our portfolios and wondering where all the time went.

Am I the only one that feels like just yesterday I was a kid, and that tomorrow I will be applying for the nursing home?

Speed of life. Trauma. I think I need to lay down.

Choices, Choices

Today I had a choice. Post on my blog, or watch TV with my hubby.

Guess what I chose?

And how 'bout this one?

Another picture.

Worth another thousand words.

That can best be summed up in two...

CUTIE PATOOTIE.

Maybe I can keep up the NaBloPoMo.

Obstacle #367

So how does one stick to a daily writing commitment on a night like tonight when I have been busy all day, a house full of stampers all evening, overnight guests, and a clock that is almost showing midnight?

How about this?

They say a picture is worth a million words. Man I love this kid.

And how are things with YOU? Part II

Many years ago I knew a girl who lived her life in a “glass half empty” sort of way. Negativity replaced any joyful expression and if there was something to complain about – she was on the job! I remember hearing others whisper about the negativity. Let’s not invite her – she is such a complainer. She is SO negative.

I think hearing those comments had a profound effect on me, even to this day. I feel like I am always keeping myself in check. I want to share with others how I feel about things – but I am always on guard to not come across as TOO negative. Balance every downer comment with a couple of positive. If expressing how hard the adjustment to parenting has been, make sure to follow with about 10 loving statements of how much I love my child (which I do by the way). Be careful how you are coming across on all your Facebook status. Have a blog that is real and to the heart of how things are, but not too real, because what would people think?

I was told a while back that I was a bit of a drag. I guess I was not working hard enough to keep myself in check. I will do better next time. But what if I don’t want to? What if I just want to be who I am?

And this once again brings me to the question, when people ask “How are things with you?” do they really want to know? Do people REALLY want to know the real, day-to-day life stuff and struggles of others around them? Or do they want to hear just enough to feel like they had a “good” conversation with you, without getting their hands too dirty?

What if when asked “How are things with you?” we could answer freely without any editing?

What if people could just be who they are?

What if God intended the glass half empty people to balance out the glass half full people? Wouldn’t two halves make one full cup?

Wouldn’t we all breathe with a little more freedom if we didn’t have to think so hard? Would the question of “How are things with you?” be met with a few less blank stares and a little less panic (for me at least)?

When I ask you how things are with you I hope you find a free place to share from the honest depths of who you are - because that is what I am really hoping to get back from you in return. So let’s raise our glasses – whether half full or half empty and toast to living life with more honesty and far less editing.

And how are things with YOU? Part I

The other night Harv and I were doing a little visitation supper with a couple from our church. It was a pleasant evening and we were catching up on their lives. How are things with work? How are the newlywed children? I hear you are going to be grandparents! And so on and so forth. Half way through the evening the couple looked at us and said. “We have been talking all night about us. HOW ARE THINGS WITH YOU?”

Blank.

I looked at Harv.

Harv looked at me.

"Good. Good." I said a little nervously. Do they mean how are things going with the church? Do they mean just our lives in general? Do they REALLY want to know? Do they really want to hear about the thing that consumes our entire life – parenting? Man I wish I would have prepped for this question ahead of time.

I am not good at “How are things with you?” If I could keep you talking about yourself all evening with engaging questions and conversation starters, I would do it. Maybe I am unsure if people REALLY want to know how things are going, or if it is just the polite thing you say. I answered honestly a while back. I said. “Not great.” I was met with an awkward, stunned, deer-in-the-headlights sort of look.

Maybe I misunderstood the question.

Obstacle #2 to regular blogging – do people REALLY want to know? Not sure I want to hear the answer to that one. Maybe let’s talk about you for a while instead. How are things with YOU?

Why Decide Today What I can Put Off until Tomorrow?

Do you know what my new definition of crazy is? Someone who has written a total of 1 post in the last 6 months committing to post every day for the month of November. Crazy. But, it does seem to fit in nicely with the flow of all or nothing that I have patterned my life after. I am not even sure if the whole idea of NaBloPoMo is even possible right now. I mean physically possible, as I am unsure if I can remember my blogger password. But I guess if I managed to post this, then that is one hurtle overcome.

One hurtle. 30 more to go.
Or not.
I think I will decide tomorrow.

A Spring in my Step

One month since my last post? How did that happen?

My friend Becky posted a little ditty on her facebook status that spoke true to my heart... "Sunny Days. Chasing the clouds away." That Sesame Street. Wisdom for the masses. Good stuff.

That is where I am at. Sunny days - finally here - are chasing away the blues from a long dark winter. I actually had started to lose hope that things would ever warm up before the chill of Fall would once again nip at our cheeks. But things are warming and greening. The lake waters are flowing, and the frogs are once again singing me to sleep at night. And I am starting to feel... well, I am once again starting to feel.

Sam and I have been spending lots of time outside. He can't get enough. And I love how happy it makes him. Oh God, thank you for finally letting us have spring!!

Would Someone Like to Adopt Me?

Can I tell you a secret? This motherhood thing is kicking my butt. It is an overwhelming, never ending lesson in selflessness, patience and sacrifice. And let us not forget the tiredness. And the sheer soul weariness. I feel weary in my soul. Deeply weary.

I fight against guilt to even say these things out loud. For some reason, ever since Sam was even a day old, I have felt like I should keep these feelings to myself. To hide them, and pretend they are not there. After all – I prayed for him for years. I waited and wanted and longed and cried. God finally answered, and now who am I to express anything but sheer joy and thankfulness in every single moment of motherhood?

But as much as I love Sam, and my heart thrills in those twinkling blue eyes and sweet sweet kisses, I feel overwhelmed at the sheer CONSTANTNESS of motherhood. And sometimes I don’t want to go to bed at night, because I am so tired at the thought of another day to do it all over again.

I think it is times like this I realize that sometimes a Mother needs a Mother.

I give so much of myself to Sam. I love him and care for him. I put my schedule on hold for him. I anticipate his needs and what would make his little life and his little heart happy. I clean up after him and feed him. I listen to his funny little chatter and soothe his heart when he is sad. I am the meeter of his needs and the tender to his little spirit.

Tonight I feel like I need a mother. Someone to come and clean up after me, and feed me, and put me to sleep when I am grumpy. Someone to talk to me when I am sad (which is a lot lately.) And help me bring order to my world. Or maybe I just need someone to come and clean my bathroom and play with Sam while I have a nap.

Would anyone like to adopt a fairly needy, somewhat whiny, tired and emotional 38 year old, who needs constant attention, and desperate help in the house department? I also have blue eyes that twinkle, and give great kisses. But since I have to save those for the two guys in my life, you will have to take my word on that one. Any takers?

Dark Days

YOU ARE THERE. (Why do I forget that in the darkness?)

Always before me. Always behind me.

Hand upon me. Arms encircling.

Love freely flowing.

Oh God I so often forget.

And the darkness overwhelms.

But you are light. And your light brings clarity to my darkness.

You have a plan. (If I could only remember.)

For my good. For my prosperity.

Not to rob or thwart. (As satan would have me believe.)

Oh that I may trust.

And trust again.

And believe.

Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life; you stretch out your hand against the anger of my foes, with your right hand you save me. The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; your love, O Lord endures forever – do not abandon the works of your hands.

Psalm 138: 7-8

Dead Grass - As Beautiful as a sparkly Rainbow

Yesterday I looked out my back window and found a small patch of grass peeking through the endless snow. I thought to myself, I wonder if this is what Noah felt like when the dove returned to the ark, olive leaf in tow? Did he feel a glimmer of hope that he didn’t quite want to believe? That is how I feel. Harv has assured me that Spring has now sprung, and that winter is on its way out. I am a little sceptical – but OH HOW I HOPE. Dare I believe? Dare I say goodbye to S.A.D. and to bleary, and to cold bitten cheeks and cooped up toddler fits? I NEED it to be true. I need spring to be here.

But just to remind myself that I do not have it all that bad, let me just say a big thank you to my beloved… for getting me through another winter without having to pick up a shovel, or scape a windshield. You are so good to me.

And now, on behalf of my itchy shutter finger, a little reminder of what is coming...

And my most favorite of all...

Changing My World One Meatloaf at a Time

I made meatloaf today. Sounds a little everyday-living life-hum drum-normal don’t you think? But I don’t break out the “fancy cooking” too often (Anything that requires the oven is considered fancy in my books.). So I guess meatloaf is my abnormal in usual normalness.

I have been thinking a lot about my life lately. I have been thinking about what I accomplish. What is my sum total in this life? Am I really making a difference?

I had an encounter last weekend. I asked one of my church ladies what kind of week she had. She proceeded to tell me, with enthusiasm and energy, about her interactions with neighbours, her conversations that turned to God-talks, her embraced opportunities to infuse scripture and encouragement to the heavy hearted. She was radiating delight.

She then asked me what my week had been like.
I froze.

There were dirty diapers, and temper tantrums. The endless dishes were battled and lost. I think I managed to throw a load of laundry in. It may very well still be sitting there in the washer - a growing mess of damp sogginess for all I know. Oh, and I did quite enjoy American Idol when I grabbed a moment to sit down and completely tune out from everything.

I stared at her blankly. Far too long for proper etiquette. I really could not answer the question. So I mumbled something, and actually hurried away in my discomfort.

I thought later – why didn’t I talk with enthusiasm and energy of my exciting week, of my adventures and high calling to influence and shape the little world around me? Why didn’t I share of my role as boo boo kisser and milk fetcher? As toy retriever and head chef, meeting the nutritional demands of the future president or the next Billy Graham. Why didn’t I talk about the privilege that I have to spend even a moment delighting in pure blue eyes – seeing everything for the first time. Witnessing and enjoying a little human interacting with his growing world.

Climbing. Learning. Developing. Changing.
It is a high calling. And I want to embrace it until I also radiate with delight.

On Sunday I am hoping to run into this lady again. And I hope she asks me about my week.

I'm going to tell her I made meatloaf.

This Can't Be Good...

I just made a batch of chocolate caramel cupcakes with caramel filling, butter cream icing and toasted coconut on top. It may be the fanciest thing this Betty Crocker girl has ever made. I have no company coming. No event. No potluck to share with. No, nothing like that. Just a sad little mix of depression and chocolate cravings. I don't think this bodes well for the upcoming weekend.

New Venture

I've done something, and I am not sure how it is going to go.

But now I've done it.

And I am committed.

Committed and terrified.

And a little bit excited.

But mostly terrified.

This came in the mail today:

I have been stamping and crafting for years now. But now I have decided to take it to a whole new level. I am now officially an Independent Stampin' Up Demonstrator. Oh yoikes. What have I done? It was an opportunity that literally fell into my lap, and so I am doing it. I am NOT a sales person. I lack motivation and the in-your-face-dedication that this job may need. But, I love stamps. And I love paper. And I love color. So...I'm going to do it. I literally have nothing to lose. So...check out my new web site, and see what you think. And if you really want to have some fun...book me in and we will do some craftin' together. Hey look at that...maybe I am a little more of a sales person than I thought!! I only got slight hives at throwing that pitch out there. I think I better go lay down.

Brand New Day

Sometimes a good song says it all.

Things You Didn't Know You Wanted to Know About Me

In keeping with my theme of fresh starts, and open sharing, I thought some (100 to be exact) random facts about me might be in order. I am calling this 100 Things you didn't know you wanted to know about me or 1oo Things that Will Not Enrich Your Life. (Just advanced warning.) Enjoy.

1. I live just outside of Gimli, MB in Cottage country. On a windy day I can sit on my deck and listen to the crashing waves of Lake Winnipeg. I love that sound.
2. I LOVE where we live. LOVE. If it were up to me, I would already be in my retirement home.
3. I hope it’s up to me.
4. I turned 38 this year. It felt surreal.
5. I told 3 people in all seriousness that I couldn’t believe I was turning 28. THREE PEOPLE.
6. Harv and I celebrated our 10th anniversary in July. We took to trip to PEI as a reward for making it this far.
7. I happen to think I really lucked out in the husband department.
8. My little Sam is turning 2 in March. I can’t get my mind around that. He has filled my life with amazing fullness and joy. And tiredness. I love that little blondie.
9. I don't want to brag, but I think that kid is exceptionally cute.

10. My favorite website is Google.
11. I am trying to recover from perfectionism. I have a looong way to go.
12. I love TV. The Mennonite in me wants to hide that fact. But the real and honest me has embraced my love of television.
13. I believe a lot of people in the world love TV more than they would care to admit.
14. I have a dedicated office/craft room that is the most glorious shade of purple. It is my happy place.
15. I am addicted to pulling out my grey hair. My hairdresser told me to stop, but I just can’t help myself. I may be bald by the time I reach 50.
16. With the exception of life with Harv and Sam, my four years at Millar were the best, most growth filled years of my life.
17. I took half a year of bass guitar lessons. I hope to one day master this instrument.
18. I am not good at practice. For anything. I want to be instantly good without practice.
19. Harv taught me everything I know about Politics.
20. I love Stephen Harper. And not just because he is the only one I know that can pull off a sweater vest.
21. 98% of the time when I type my name I hit a T instead of an R. If I happen to forget to spellcheck next time I am writing to you…sorry.
22. I wish I could have a haircut that I didn’t have to style, but that wouldn’t make me look like a boy.
23. My personal grooming has hit an all-time low after the birth of my Sam.
24. I question so many things about God. But I have this deep intense faith that will not let go, even in my questioning.
25. Fall is my absolute favorite season.
26. I make amazing salsa.
27. I faked liking sports when I was dating Harv.
28. I actually hate them.
29. Harv is still glad he married me.
30. He faked liking country music and board games.
31. I am still glad I married him.
32. But I sure do miss board games.
33. I could spend all day in Chapters.
34. I hate email forwards. I NEVER read them. No matter how touching you think they are.
35. I love Kit Kat bars. Once they came out in Kit Kat Bites form, it became a full blown addiction.
36. Speaking of addiction... Two words - Ice. Cream.
37. I am seeking help.
38. I LOVE anything related to plants, gardening and yard work. I am a total green thumb.
39. The people who lived here before us did NOT have a green thumb. There is not a single plant, shrub, bush or flowerbed on this yard. Not one.
40. I have a LOT of happy work ahead of me.
41. I believe the PVR was the greatest invention since the light bulb. I can never return to normal television viewing. Never.
42. My favorite restaurant is Boston Pizza. I have a lot of good memories from that restaurant. I could eat there every day.
43. Someday I am going on a cruise.
44. I secretly hope that Captain Stubbing and the Love Boat crew are there to greet me.
45. My best job was working as product researcher for the Briercrest Bookstore. I spent all day on the Internet finding obscure products that people couldn’t live without. I loved that job. I once found book #3 in an old Hardy boys series. All I had to go on was something like, There was this book in a mystery series where Frank has an accident in the very first chapter. Finding that was one of my proudest moments. And that was before the days of Wikipedia.
46. My worst job was picking rocks all day alone in my Dad’s fields. (Is that even legal? It sounds like something they write sad documentaries about featuring underage children forced into slave labour in adverse conditions.)(Now before you go calling Dateline, I was paid for this job.)
47. One of my favorite things to do is folding Sam’s clothes. It makes me so happy.
48. I have watched every single episode of Grey’s Anatomy except one.
49. I took one night off to give birth to Sam.
50. I know. It is a little...inappropriate. But it is still my favorite show.
51. I have an extreme EXTREME mouse phobia.
52. It began as a child as a result of a scene on Little House on the Prairie where Pa wakes up in the middle of the night to find a mouse chewing on his hair. That is enough to traumatize any child.
53. The mere THOUGHT of it makes me dry heave. *shudder
54. I told Harv that if we ever had a mouse in this house I would have to move out because the home had been compromised. He didn’t seem to think I was serious.
55. We own a cat because of my fear of mice.
56. I have a love/hate relationship with our cat.
57. Before we had Sam I loved her, and now I hate her.
58. I have been known to be a little fickle.
59. I worked on the renovation crew the turned the Portage Woolco into a Wal-Mart.
60. I hate talking on the phone.
61. I love my call display a little more than I should.
62. I have a Dad that will frown upon #61.
63. My favorite movies are a tossup between You Got Mail, Armageddon and Runaway Bride. But actually I have so many favorite movies that it is hard to narrow it down.
64. I feel closest to God when out in nature. Or sitting at a piano.
65. I love flowers. LOVE. Tulips are my favorite. And lilacs. And roses. And gerbera daisies.
66. I am a complete night owl. I come alive after 11:00pm.
67. I own an unbelievable amount of baskets.
68. I wish we could wear sandals all year round.
69. I hate shoe shopping. Almost as much as I hate bra shopping.
70. I LOVE paper. And color. And beauty. And anything that I can create.
71. One afternoon, inflicted with sheer exhaustion from a summer of camp counselling, I drove the wrong way down the street. I didn’t understand why cars were heading straight towards me. I drove through the ditch to correct the error of my tired ways. I never told anyone.
72. I have the oh-so-wonderful Adobe Photoshop on my computer. I never use it. I don’t know how. It is a sad waste. I need someone to teach me.
73. I love cookbooks WAY MORE than I love cooking.
74. I am an obsessive list maker.
75. Harv and I started dating in the fall. This further cemented Fall as my favorite season.
76. He had me sing on his worship team. Before long I was hooked.
77. I always had a thing for guys and guitars.
78. My first car was a red Corsica.
79. My second car was a blue Corsica.
80. I really liked Corsica’s.
81. Until it broke down on St. Mary’s and Bishop Grandin in rush hour. Then again on Henderson Hwy in rush hour. And yet again on Route 90 in rush hour.
82. I no longer really like Corsica’s.
83. I started carrying a purse for the first time in my life last year.
84. I own all 10 seasons of Friends.
85. I LOVE anything crafty. Anything. Except those yarn covered hangers. Oh please future retirement home, do not make me sit all afternoon making those yarn covered hangers.
86. I started Watercolor painting classes last year. I love it.
87. I hate any seafood of any kind. Sorry Grandpa.
88. I forced myself to eat some fish in PEI last spring, just for the principal of it all.
89. I am quite the germaphobe.
90. I am not a good housekeeper.
91. That means I have no problem with my own germs, just yours.
92. I avoid all public bathrooms if at all possible. And sometimes even if it is not possible.
93. My idea of a perfect date is dinner, theatre and a walk in the park. Holding hands of course.
94. I spent one month in the hospital before I had Sam. I tried every day to be sent home. Now I wonder if I could go back…just for a day or two. Just for some sleep.
95. I deeply regret giving up our fish tank when we moved from Yorkton. Those were amazing, beautiful, fish. The fish tank cracked on the way. They wouldn’t have made the journey.
96. I don’t wear second hand clothing. *she says with a shameful little… “ick” and a shudder. (Please refer to #91)
97. Neither does Sam. (Unless I know who owned them.) Sorry Mom.
98. I am embracing a new love of photography. I don’t know why I didn’t think to try it years ago.
99. If I could have one wish I would plan a girl’s day out with my girls, Tia and Amy. It would include shopping, the spa, and Baked Expectations. It would be followed by an evening of Dutch blitz and Dixie Chicks. I could cry just thinking about it. Happy, happy memories tied up in those girls.
100. I obsess over small things. Like making the last point a real doosie. And actually…I got nothin’. Shirley out. (There goes the t instead of the r again. I’m not kidding…)

Hope

I heard on the news that yesterday was officially “Blue Monday”. According to someone, it was the saddest day of the year. As if Monday did not have a bad enough rap, now there is an official day. January 16th, the time when all the resolutions have all been broken and the Christmas bills are due. Top that off with bone chilling temperatures that appear to have no end in sight, and yes, maybe someone has a point.

Usually I am down for that sort of thing. I will take any excuse to curl up under my covers and hide from the world, writing it off as a hallmark inspired calendar event. How could I possibly clean my house today? It is Blue Monday! But this year, I think I will pass on embracing this particular holiday. I’m not feeling it this year. This year I am feeling something different.

HOPE.

I feel a lot of hope for this year. And it is not just me. I know others feel it too. In fact, it seems wherever I go lately I encounter those, that like me, believe God is really going to do something this year. I see it in expectant faces. I hear it in eager, confident voices. It is that sort of goose-bumpy anticipation. The kind you feel when you just know you are about to experience something good. Do you feel it too? I feel hope. Hope for good things. Hope for change. Hope for dreams. Hope that God is really going to do….something.

I love that feeling. It is like… wonderment. It is like sitting back waiting for fireworks; anticipating the curtains rising; looking with everyone else to see what God it going to do.

Let's face it, Blue Monday doesn’t stand a chance.

Frost

Creative Father
Even nature tells story of my longing
That I may cling so close
That those near may never tell
Where I end
And You begin.

Back in the Saddle

This is not my first rodeo.

I have never really understood that expression, but today it seems fitting. That is, if rodeo translates into blog. This is not my first blog. I loved my old blog. I still do. It was perfect. Perfect in my eyes. I loved the look, the labels, the color. Everything. Love love love. It took me a long, long time to write the final chapter on that blog. It was sort of a limping, petering finish wrought with indecision. Even more indecision came when beginning this blog. I went back daily to my other one thinking I should just remain faithful…work through the issues. But in the end, I just felt like I needed a change. It felt too perfect. I needed a little mess. A little less polishing, a little less editing and a little more just sharing from the reality of who I am. I needed something a little more representative of the changes that I feel have been happening in my life in the last couple of years. So here I am. Tentatively starting again. Hesitantly inviting you back to join me. Hoping that you will like the messier version of me instead of the polished. The reality of this attempt in candour IS my first rodeo. And I am hoping that I won’t fall off the horse. Or be chased by a bull. Or rodeo clowns.

Seriously - who came up with this expression?

Imperfection

I like to do things right. I wish I could be perfect.

There, I said it.

In fact, I would rather do nothing, than do something that is not up to what I consider “snuff”. The start of a New Year makes me a little crazy. My mind runs amuck with thoughts of how I can break 38 years of imperfection and assimilate myself into…what? I am not sure…but not the current imperfect me. I have met many a January 1st with list in hand of all the things I want to change, summed up in a few perfectly penned resolutions on perfect stationary, in perfect point form. I am not getting too far with these hopeless intentions. Year after year I continue down my path of imperfect humanity. And hope deferred makes my heart a little sick.

Can I tell you something?

I am tired. I am tired of trying to be something other than…me.

I want to embrace my imperfection. I want to let God sort out the mess and let Him decide who I am meant to be.

I want to breathe freely.

This is what this place will be all about – messes, discovery, honesty, reality.

Celebrating the imperfect life.