Welcome to the place of overflowing grace in the midst of messy motherhood.
There are a lot of kids up in here, a lot of noise, and a lot of life. It's raw and real, and often sticky.
But I wouldn't trade it. (Except maybe the sticky part.)
Join me for the journey.  

Between a rock and a soft, squishy mattress

I fear for my children. Especially for the one glancing boldly at me while completely unrolling the aluminum foil to make a ball. Truly. But I do fear.  Some days, the future I hope for them seems bleak indeed. I’ve learned in my old age that if I stare at my phone screen for too long I go cross eyed for a while afterwards.  I think old age and phone screens do not go together very well. I’m 34. You’re dying to reprimand me for saying I’m old. But I am.  I am ever so old.  I know because when I was young it was easy to live at my parents’ house.  Now that I am old it is much more difficult.  When I was young I used to draw crayon castles and dream big.  I could ignore the news because it see

 

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