Say YES to Tomatoes! 

This post may contain affiliate links.

I love when I find amazing products, and I love even more when they are cheap! Skin care and beauty products are my vice. But this tired mama doesn’t always have time to run to Sephora, nor do I have the budget for a splurge. But if I can Amazon Prime it, I’m there! 

I’m loving the Yes to Tomatoes line right now. It’s fresh, it’s natural, it’s affordable. And it works. Does it get better than that?
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This tripack of Yes to Tomatoes is what I’m using currently. It doesn’t dry out my skin at all! I actually started using it because I got a zit for the first time in forever and needed to buy a zit cream. I literally had NONE at home. The price for all three too good to pass up!

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I love the Clear Skin Deep Pore Scrub. It has pieces of bamboo in it for an all natural gentle exfoliation. I’m finding that I don’t need to exfoliate besides this which is awesome because it saves me a step, time and money.

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I do keep a bottle of the Detoxifying Charcoal Cleanser in my shower for an added boost each time I shower. One of the best parts of this line is it’s so affordable. So it’s no big deal for me to keep a seperate bottle in the shower, because you know I would never remember to move a bottle of facewash back and forth between the shower and sink every day!

Willow’s Birth Story

Disclaimer: This is a Birth Story. This is not sugar-coated. This is Real. Raw. Birth. There are photos. If you do not want to read about birth, or see photos of a birth or a baby breastfeeding, please exit your web browser immediately. I warned you. So if you continue to scroll, it’s your own fault.


Since the birth of our first child, I’ve been obsessed with everything birth related. Birth stories. Birth groups. Birth photos. Birth videos. Birth plans. Birth everything. It’s crazy how something so common, something that happens millions of times a day, can be so compelling and consuming. When we fell pregnant with our second, my wheels started turning immediately. What did I want this time around that didn’t happen the first? What can I control that I couldn’t with my first? I was so determined to experience birth on my terms this time that I dove right in.

Through following different blogs, pages and groups such as Birth Without Fear, Take Back PostpartumThe Essential Midwife and others I decided the most important things I needed or wanted to have a successful and comfortable (if that is even possible??) second birth were a solid support team and medical staff, the end goal of a successful waterbirth, a healthy pregnancy, an environment supportive of natural childbirth and the ability to have control over myself and my surroundings during labor. And a Waterbirth. I really REALLY wanted a waterbirth.

Now I know I can’t control everything during childbirth, or at least that is what we are told. But I felt if I wanted something bad enough, vocalized my wishes strongly and had a supportive partner to back me up, I had a good chance at having the birth I wanted to experience so badly.

Early labor started on Sunday and I was 37 weeks 6 days. Monday would mark my 38th week of pregnancy. The Tuesday previous I had been checked by my Midwife and was three centimeters dilated and 70% effaced, which had given me hope the end was in sight. Sunday afternoon around 2:30 PM contractions started. We timed them and although weak, they were close in time and consistent enough in pattern so I spoke to the on call Midwife and (to no surprise) she told me to wait it out at home until things geared up. Having gone at 37 weeks 6 days with my first I was telling myself this was it.

My contractions were weak, mostly pressure. During the day I had enough distractions with work and Stella that I at times barely noticed them. The nights were worse, they intensified in the evenings, or maybe I just noticed them more. Monday night I woke up to a very sharp and painful contraction. I thought, this is it! I decided to wait for a consistent pattern before waking Eric. My adrenaline was pumping. But the clock ticked and an HOUR passed and I didn’t have One. More. Single. Dang. Contraction.

By Tuesday I was emotionally and physically exhausted. Waiting for labor to kick up a notch was a torturous mind game. Contractions were anywhere from five to 30 minutes apart since Sunday but never stopping or increasing in intensity. I was starting to go insane and my anxiety was getting worse with each contraction. So I moved up my weekly appointment to that afternoon. At 2:40 PM my midwife greeted me by saying her office was waiting for me all weekend and couldn’t believe Monday morning that I still hadn’t come in to have a baby. I agreed.

My blood pressure was higher than normal; I was checked at 4 cm and 80% effaced. I was sent to Labor and Delivery for an hour of monitoring and labs to check for pre-eclampsia. The L&D nurse greeted me by letting me know my chart had been on their desk for days and they’ve been wondering where this poor woman was. Again, I agreed. My labs checked out but my blood pressure was still registering high and contractions were timing two to four minutes apart. We decided with my slow progression and elevated blood pressure that staying and having a baby today was our best and safest option.

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Looking really optimistic upon admission. Last “parents of one” selfie!

At 4:30 PM I received my first dose of Cytotec. Although this did help things to progress in intensity, contractions were still very mild.

I was checked at 7:30 PM. I had increased to five centimeters and 90% effaced. We agreed to break water, labor more, and check again at 10:00 PM. And can we just talk for a minute about the gush? I missed this sensation with my first since I slowly leaked for days without knowing. But the gush. It’s so weird. And so warm. I was almost too fascinated by the gush.

Looking really fly and still quite optimistic as we labored walking the halls.

So 10:00 PM came and went and I was still at five centimeters. The lack of progress was frustrating and the mention of possibly needing Pitocin scared me (I had it with Stella and wanted to avoid it at all costs). We agreed to labor until midnight and do one more check before making any decisions. My midwife went home to nap while I (hopefully) progressed.

I labored over the side of my bed. I labored pacing back and forth in the room. I labored walking the halls. I labored leaning on the counter. I labored leaning on Eric. I had placed Lavender essential oil on a washcloth and inhaled during contractions to help stay relaxed. My legs were growing tired from walking and standing during contractions but I remembered how painful laying in bed was with Stella’s birth so I didn’t know what else to do. My anxiety started building.

I cried to Eric. It may actually have been more like bawled. That might depend on who you ask. I asked him to get me some Ylang-Ylang essential oil. I needed some balance and stability for my emotions at this point. Eric listened as I cried. I was starting to get frustrated with the lack of progression when I felt like I should be advancing so much more.

My labor nurse, Mollie, walked in mid meltdown and asked what was wrong. I told her I just wanted to be able to do this myself. She was adamant that they’d help me get to where I’d need to be. Having the support from the hospital staff was so amazing. During early labor I had explained how badly I wanted to experience a waterbirth naturally so she knew this part of my birth plan was so important to me. She suggested laying on my side in bed with the peanut ball between my legs and said she always has great results with dilation. So we started on the left side at 11:00 PM.

My contractions started intensifying rapidly in this position. As each contraction started I would say “contraction” to Eric so he could start timing. I focused on deep inhales through my nose, followed by slow exhales (counting to four) through my mouth. I had my Lavender and Ylang-Ylang washcloths next to my face, so with each breath I was inhaling the oils. As I exhaled I would moan. The “ooooooh” vocalization helped me to focus on the progress. In my head I was telling myself Ooooooopen. I was visualizing progress. I was visualizing my baby lowering into position.

Still, my contractions were inconsistent in interval, ranging two to six minutes apart. Even eight minutes at one point. At times I was having coupling contractions lasting up to two minutes. Coupling contractions basically double peak, or are two contractions back to back with no break in between. These were very, very tough to get through. But even with things building in intensity, this position was so soothing to me. I was zoning out and almost sleeping between contractions. I’m not sure if it was the breathing, the visualizations, the oils or the positioning. It was truly meditative and the most amazing and surreal experience laboring through these contractions.

Eric is seriously an amazing partner and birth coach. He talked me through each one and kept my focus on progress and breathing. He sensed every moment I tensed my body. He would watch me and say “relax your shoulders” or “relax your hands” or “relax your legs.” He watched and read me like a book. I cannot stress enough how perfect of a partner and support he was for me. This labor experience reassured to me he was meant to be my partner. He was meant to be my husband. I don’t want to be cheesy but we make a damn good team and this experience is living proof.

At 11:30 PM I switched to my right side. By 11:45 PM contractions were very intense. What I didn’t realize was that I was actually almost through transition at this time! I was so zoned out and focusing on Eric’s coaching and my breathing and progress that the pain was almost managable. My transition was managableAfter my first experience of labor and transition, and transition being my biggest fear going into this second pregnancy, I never ever thought I’d say that!

At 11:50 PM, mid contraction, I looked up to Eric and all I could manage to say was “PRESSURE… PRESSURE NOW.” At this point he thought I was sleeping as I hadn’t had a contraction in about eight minutes. His head was burried in his hands resting. My urgency startled him and he asked if he should call the nurse and I said yes. He paged Mollie and told her I was saying pressure and he thought the baby was coming, to which she ran into the room. At this point the pressure was so intense. I needed to push. I was starting to panic as I wasn’t in the tub yet, and I was just only five centimeters an hour and a half ago.

Mollie was a sweet nurse with a Georgia drawl and I’ll always remember her saying “Don’t push yet sweetie, I need to make sure you’re complete first.” To which I replied (probably in a possessed demonic voice) “I have to push NOW. The baby is coming NOW.” She checked and I was complete at 10 and ready to push. She paged the other nurses as she ran out of the room to fill the waterbirth tub and call our Midwife. I opened my eyes mid contraction to see Eric had grabbed my phone and was calling someone; I yelled at him to get off the phone! You can get pretty demanding when the baby is basically crowning. He told me I wanted him to make this call, as he was calling our friend Lacey to get to the hospital for birth photos.

I was crying that the baby was coming and I needed to push it out. I held my legs together and crossed my ankles as I wanted to wait for the tub so badly. Everything got really hectic from here; I asked for oxygen because I was starting to panic. At one point I told Eric the baby was coming, he asked me if he should get a nurse as they were all next door prepping the tub and room. I said yes, he started walking out of the room to which I said (or yelled) “get the f*ck over here!” I’m convinced if he would have left the room the baby would have come out at that moment on the bed with only me in the room to catch. I’m actually really proud of myself as that was the only time I swore. That I remember at least.

Within a few minutes they rolled me next door to the waterbirth room. They had to pry my hand from Eric’s to get my bed through the door. I managed to climb out of bed into the tub between contractions. We had to wait until the tub was filled enough to get by, and I entered with the faucet still running. The first contraction in the tub I was reclined on my back and it just felt uncomfortable and wrong so they suggested I reposition. Mid contraction I moved to my hands and knees. Lacey, our photographer, came in then and started shooting away.

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A few seconds later Kelly, our Midwife walked in the room. She could hear me saying I needed to push. As she walked through the door she said “Push, you did this all on your own! You don’t need me, push out your baby.”

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They warmed the water up a bit more which made it more comfortable. I was able to take a breath, regroup. Eric looked me in the eyes and grabbed my hand, “This is it. You can do this. You’re almost done. Our baby is almost here.” I focused on Eric and was able to bear down on the next contraction. I could feel the head crowning. Kelly asked me if I wanted her to check and I said yes. She confirmed the head was right there. I moved to a squatting position to much relief, and pushed the head out with the next contraction. 

It was like a moment of peace while I waited for another contraction. I took a breath and focused on our baby. I remember telling myself, This is it. One more contraction. One more push. I’m getting this baby out with one more push. And with the next contraction, at roughly 12:20 AM, I pushed out the body and the baby was free.

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There was a pause where Eric and I just sat there, staring at our baby floating in the water. It was probably only a second, but it felt like a lifetime. Kelly said “grab your baby!” Eric reached down first, but he wasn’t moving fast enough for me. I said “It’s a girl!” as she neared the surface. Together we pulled her out of the water. It was serene. It was insanely peaceful. Like Hollywood movie peaceful. It’s crazy how something that takes only a minute in reality can play out in slow motion for you to remember forever. I don’t know if the room was noisy or hectic around me. In that moment all I remember is grabbing our baby and bringing her out of the water and to my chest.

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I felt relief. I felt pride. I felt strength. With her at my chest, I sat back and just couldn’t believe what I had done. It was so amazing and nothing short of a miracle. It was everything I had hoped for this birth to be and more. I felt so empowered.

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They let baby rest on me and slowly her purple color turned to pink, she gave a little soft cry and that was it. Almost just a whimper. We let the cord pulse to completion for three or five minutes. I wasn’t counting. I just know it was a long time and we got to just take her in and focus on this amazing intimate moment. We just brought a new life into this world.

Me: “It’s a girl!”

Me: “Crap, we need to come up with a girl name!”

Me: “I got it out!”

Me: “I did it I got it out I got it out I did it!”

Eric: “It’s a her! It’s a her!”

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When I say we, I don’t say that on accident. Eric was such a strong support during labor that he deserves credit too. The cord was finally clamped and Eric cut it. As we sat with our baby clinging to my chest, the first thing I said was, “Oh no, now we really need to come up with a girl name!” Some time passed, then Eric surprised me and said we could name her Willow. This was my dream name all along. He always refused the name during our pregnancy. I’m not sure what ever did change his mind.

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This is my Crap We Don’t Have A Girl Name face.

The next moments were filled with baby ogling, placenta pushing, post-labor care, latching and healing. We were surprised with Willow’s long dark hair. With her long fingers and fingernails. With her weight and length (7 lb 8 oz and 21 inches long, much bigger than her older sister was).

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There’s something about a second baby that is so different from a first. Maybe it’s because you fully understand the depth of this new love you feel. Maybe it’s because you know this teeny little being will grow into a walking talking amazing wonder. Maybe it’s because you understand the miracle of life. Or because you understand this role of motherhood is nothing to be taken lightly and is the greatest gift you will ever receive. That it is the toughest job you will ever do. I’m not sure all the factors of it, but I know for me it is addicting. And I know, God willing, I cannot wait to do it again.

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(Photographs by Lacey Anevicius)

Continue reading “Willow’s Birth Story”

I do not have a “bad baby.”

Contrary to popular belief, there is no such thing as a “good baby.” One of the questions I get most during my postpartum journey is “is she a good baby?” I hate this question. I despise this question. Maybe because its my second time around. Maybe because I have more confidence as a mother. Maybe because the last five days have been extremely trying with a fussy baby. I’m putting enough pressure on myself right now. Is it my milk? Am I eating something that upsets her? Am I just not being patient enough with her? Is it because now there’s two? Am I failing to meet both their needs? I mean, for real, going from one to two is hard. It’s hard work and littered with constant self doubt.

I know people mean well but, what is the alternative to this question? That she is a bad baby? If she cries a little more than normal (what is a  normal amount of crying anyway?!) then she’s a bad baby? If she doesn’t nurse like a dream in the beginning, she’s a bad baby? If she doesn’t sleep through the night at one week old, is she a bad baby? 

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This is what my postpartum looks like. Tired eyes. Frizzy hair. Half calf coffee. Baby in wrap. The last few days have been nothing short of challenging, but we’ve been blessed to have family and friends supporting us. Instead of hiding it, this time around I’m owning it. #takebackpostpartum

I mean, COME ON PEOPLE! She’s a baby! She’ll have enough pressure to fit into society’s standards as she grows up, let’s please let her be a baby for now. She’s not vindictive in her behaviors, she’s not out to get me, she doesn’t get joy from keeping me up at night. She is an innocent baby with basic needs for survival. 

Nourishment. Comfort. Love. Warmth. And a clean diaper. 

Other than that, she isn’t asking for much. So yes, she is a good baby. She may wake up every two to four hours. She may get fussy when she’s gassy because she’s not used to the sensation and discomfort. She may cry because she’s tired and needs snuggles to fall asleep. I don’t classify these as making her a bad baby or a good baby. She’s just being a baby. And I’m just being her momma. Loving her even when it’s difficult. Asking for grace and praying for patience. Lots of patience.

My hormones guilt me enough in these early days. Implying my baby can be either good or bad doesn’t help anything. Instead tell me she’s adorable. Tell me I make cute babies. Tell me I’m doing a good job. These are the words of encouragement a mother needs. I pray we focus more on supporting mothers no matter what their journey looks like. Even if it doesn’t fit your standard of good or normal. 

First 5: A New Endeavor

[original post April 29, 2016]

I’ve been needing and looking for something more lately. It’s disheartening when you can feel your soul is lost, and you know where to turn as a Christian. But you need guidance. Then it’s funny how God has a plan and let’s in fall into your lap. It’s so true that he puts people in your life at just the right moments when you need them most.

I’m so blessed to have this dear friend who means more to me than she probably knows. She swoops in and with only a small text or a few words reminds me where I need to be. Luckily through her I started reading a book, Unglued by Lysa Terkeurst. And through this book I found an app, First 5, which was created to help you easily study the bible. It may not be something I get to every day, as I’ve tried devotional apps before and I lost my drive. But because this one is interactive and asks for your response at the end of each study, I’m hoping I’ll have more drive to succeed and grow with God.

It’s not because I want to as a fad. It’s because I need it. My heart needs this strengthened relationship. My relationships need this strengthened relationship. My actions need it. Basically my whole life needs it. I’ve been lost for some time now. But I’m finally ready to admit I need something more, and I’m really excited right now about the prospect of letting go of labels and just diving in to becoming a better person.

I know I won’t ever be perfect. But I was created to be someone special who acts and loves through Him and I want to be able to give back to my relationshio instead of just using Him when I selfishly need to.

My Response from today’s study.

Give Thanks – A little bit of DIY, and a whole lot of Faith

[original post October 3, 2015]

Today has been a trying day. Stella is cutting some top teeth which makes for an ornery baby, and a tired momma. I knew when I finally got her down for an afternoon nap that what I needed most was some therapeutic DIY. But it’s a lazy Saturday and my ambitions are running low, so today’s project is small. I apologize in advance for no progression or step-by-step pictures. I wasn’t planning on this project being anything special or blog worthy, but when I saw the final product of my perfectly imperfect sign, I changed my mind :-).

I started with a small piece of barn wood scrap I’ve been saving for a rainy day. Today I decided it would make a great little sign for autumn. I painted both sides with white acrylic paint, edges too.

Tip: If you’re impatient like I am and don’t want to wait for one side to dry, to paint the other, use thumb tacks! I grabbed four thumb tacks, put one on each corner, and pushed them in only slightly. Since the look is distressed, the holes won’t bother me. I was able to the flip my piece of wood over and continue painting without smudging all the fresh paint!

While my paint was drying I headed to Pinterest. I searched “fall wood sign” to seek inspiration. The phrase “Give Thanks” was the winner. Short and Sweet.

I needed a template, because I’m not about to freehand anything! I Google image searched “Give Thanks” and found this great sign here.

I really liked the lines that frame out “THANKS” and the emphasis it places on the word. I placed a piece of loose leaf paper on top of my computer screen and lightly traced the image (I like to use loose leaf because I reference it’s lines for guides when aligning my text).

I grabbed a piece of burlap scrap and placed it on top of my loose leaf paper, making sure to hold it as flat as possible, I taped the burlap down to the paper with painters tape to avoid any sliding it may do; this also helped to keep the burlap flat as sometimes scrap fabric can have a mind of its own!

Using a very large Sharpie, I traced the image out. I went back and filled in the letters to try my best at making it look nice. This is where I gave up on perfection. The “T” was too tall and the “g” looked somewhat like “q” instead. Or maybe the whole word “give” looks more like “glue.” But I was halfway done and I wasn’t about to waste a piece of burlap!

Now that my paint was dry on my barn wood, I took those thumb tacks out. I plugged in my hot glue gun and used it to outline the back of my burlap sign. I centered it as best as I could (we eye ball things here!) and stuck it on my barn wood. The key here is to lay the burlap as tight as you can.

The hot glue is what really holds the burlap down. But to give it a more rustic and finished look I hammered in upholstery decorative nails. You can buy them really cheap at Wal-Mart. I got a pack of 30 recently for $0.97!

Take some sand paper to the edges of the sign to rough up your paint and give the sign a more worn, rustic, aged look.

And Viola! You are done!

Now I know this sign isn’t perfect. The burlap is fraying. The script could be better. The lines could be straighter. I know.

But through this DIY project I was able to remember, what is actually important here. As a momma I have had amazing days where everything went perfect and I felt like the best parent on the freaking planet!

And I’ve also had days like today. Where any time I drop eye contact with my daughter she starts to cry. As if everything in the world and every ounce of me is not enough to make her happy. I felt today like I was failing her as her mother.

I stumbled upon the phrase “give thanks,” and when I started the project I was thinking, “Oh this will be a cute Thanksgiving season sign to place on a shelf and post to Instagram.” But by the time I was finished, and I researched the phrase some more, I found this scripture.

And while I am a Christian and I have been all my life, I’m recently entering a new season where I’m kind of rediscovering my faith. Maybe I should have known of this scripture before. Maybe I did know it once and I’ve since forgotten it. But I found it today and it was new to me. It was completely new and fresh. And it was like a pitcher of cold water dumped over my head.

HELLO AMY.

You’ve been struggling all day to survive motherhood. And here you are, forgetting the number one thing. Forgetting you weren’t alone in this house all day while your husband was at work. You had Him with you. He was right there, ready to catch you when you fell.  But you forgot about Him.

It’s not over yet.

I then log in to Instagram to share my latest creation with the world, my silly little sign. And what does my sweet dear friend have posted but this:

And then I cried.

We’d been texting earlier in the day as she’d been having the #momstruggles too today. But her words were like an extra dose of Divine Intervention.

Even when I get distracted with my own selfishness and trials, God not only throws signs right in my face (literally), but he’s also placed the perfect people in my life, with their perfect words, to nudge me back toward the right path.

It was then I realized this DIY project wasn’t a simple mommy nap time therapy session.

It was all part of His plan after all.

DIY – Updating Old Canvas Art

[original post October 1, 2015]

Today’s Project: Operation Canvas Art

I’ve been having this insane DIY itch lately. If I didn’t know better I’d think I was pregnant the way I’ve been nesting. One of the projects on my to do list was to update this nasty canvas art. 

It actually isn’t that bad. A Parisian street scene in neutral colors. 

But it was dated. And no longer went with my recently updated design style. I couldn’t complain though, this canvas was huge, fit my space perfectly, and served it’s purpose courtesy of a $20 Target clearance find for six years. It just needed to be updated.

So off I went to Pinterest, where I found this and this tutorial. 

DIY Canvas Art Inspiration. Isn’t Pinterest great?!

It looked simple enough. So I gathered up my supplies:

  • One canvas
  • Painters tape
  • Metallic paint color of your choice 
  • Other paint colors, varied from one to as many as you’d like to use
  • Tape measure
  • Sharpie

First I cleaned off my canvas. The paint will always stick better when you work with a clean surface. 

Once dried, I sprayed the whole canvas with my metallic silver spray paint.


After my spray paint dried, I began taping off my design. It’s best to choose your pattern first. I’m a visual person so I needed to see it physically to make up my mind. I chose to split the canvas down the center first, then into quarters. I then taped off the herringbone pattern, alternating between two and five inch sections, at a two inch angle. I used a Sharpie here to mark off my measurements, then placed my tape down, remembering always to tape around the sides as well! It took some time, maybe about 20 minutes to tape off the entire pattern.

TIP: The sides of your canvas will show so don’t forget about them! They need love too!

I painted the two inch sections first with my gray paint, then went back and painted my white paint on. Don’t forget to paint all the way around the sides of your canvas!

TIP: Make sure your tape is pressed down firmly, or you will have paint leak under it. Leaking was unavoidable on my canvas as it had such texture previous to my project. 

After the paint is dry, peel of your tape and enjoy your masterpiece! Ahhhh, doesn’t it feel nice to create something so fresh and new? It’s times like these I feel like a true crafting badass!

This was a very easy project, and because two of my paints were spray paints, dry time was quick and it was completed entirely during naptime! It doesn’t get much better than that! And cost is minimal. I paid $0.00 as I had all the supplies, including the old canvas on hand. 

Canvas can be expensive so use these tips to keep your project cost down:

Check thrift stores for an old canvas painting you can paint over. Options like your local thrift store or Habitat Restore are great. If you must buy new from a craft store [which I highly do not recommend because you are wasting money and not recycling] don’t forget to use a couple code!

Happy Painting!!

So I’m doing this new thing…

[original post June 26, 2015}

So I’m doing this new thing, called trying to be healthy and fit. We’re doing a Biggest Loser type challenge at work which involves taking over the company blog for a few posts, and who was up first, your’s truly of course. Here’s the link to the original post. It took a lot of guts for me to post openly about this topic, but I’m so proud of myself for putting it all out there!

So this is the mom life…

[originally posted April 21, 2015]

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I said I would never be this mom. I said I’d always be able to keep my shit together. Look presentable in public, keep a clean home, have a healthy and happy child. Well, insert foot in mouth and start a blog because this life is too funny some days to keep all to myself.

Today I forgot to put a mug under the Keurig, I hit brew, and I walked away. Back I came to coffee brewing into the abyss of nothing. Old faithful “Pardon My French” mug was luckily within reach so I was able to save the last few drops of coffee. But I cut it as a loss in the end.
Let’s be real here, let’s not paint an impossible standard to hold. Let’s call BS on the whole thing and say that some days… this is what motherhood looks like.
It looks like two day old yoga pants. It looks like messy hair. It looks like what the hell IS THAT on my shirt? It looks like a sink of dirty dishes, and three loads of laundry to fold. It looks like I’ve stopped wiping up the snot and drool and everything else off myself because at this point, does it really even matter? It looks like a Keurig brewing coffee with no cup to catch it in.
And it looks like, let’s be real here, the only thing getting me through this day is having a convo with the big man upstairs, who brings me back to my feet, for one more rock to sleep, one more wipe of the nose, one more diaper change, one more feeding. Because sometimes He is your saving grace in motherhood. So today, let’s forget about painting a pretty picture for our followers and call it like it is. Today, this is my motherhood.