last week I posted about choosing to be present.

about realizing that trying to be supermom is

just not worth it.

I’ve been doing my part,

spending quality time

choosing my kids

over work.

knowing that time is fleeting.

but something has been itching

at me,

wanting to get out,

to be dealt with.

and I’m sure

I’m not the only one

who spends precious time,

time I can’t get back

dreaming about tomorrow,

thinking that today isn’t enough.

and then Tara Whitney blogged yesterday

about exactly what was

on my heart,

and I had to write it down.

when Eric and I first got married we bought this tiny little starter home in a town that was up and coming.  we didn’t think about where our kids would sleep, where all the toys would pile up, or even which schools we would feed (weird since I was teaching school at the time, you’d think I would consider that before signing on the dotted line). we fell in love with the idea of owning a home, and even as we finalized the purchase I was dreaming of our next space, of the perfect house that would follow this starter.  in the SEVEN years since, I’ve put off projects because “we aren’t going to be here much longer,” even though we’ve brought two sweet babies home here, we’ve raised them in this space, we’ve all grown. 

I’m always earmarking pages in House Beautiful and pinning things on Pinterest for my next house, because our current space never felt like enough.  for my dream space.  for the place with the big yard full of rye grass.  for the place with a gourmet kitchen and a gas range.  for perfectly hand-scraped wood floors and a huge stone shower with a clawfoot tub.  for a wrap around porch and a tree swing.  for the spot in the country that isn’t too far away from Target.   for…

but the breathe post…it made me stop. live in the moment. find peace in being…me… 

the mom who does loud. and doesn’t always wear make-up.  who chooses comfort over fashion…always.  who is happily raising her family in a small home. 

that’s right, I said happily.  this place is enough.  my dream home can’t be found in a magazine or on my Pinterest boards.  it’s not a place that exists, and it certainly isn’t made by cosmetic renovations and upgrades.  I’ve been living in my dream home for seven years.   the place where my boys spent their first night’s swaddled up on my chest, where I still rock the little guy each night, where the LEGOS are always underfoot, and the floors aren’t hand-scraped but they are clean and covered in well loved toys and shoes and a dog sprawled out in the sun gleaming through the back door.  where the hallways are narrow, but the love is wide…and deep. 

I spent too much time worried about our next space, concerned that where we were was not the best for my boys.  that they deserved more.  but what I hadn’t realized was that I’ve always had enough.  GOD always made sure our cup runeth over.  we’ve been beyond blessed with this space.  this place full of memories and moments.  He is doing great things in my life…it just took me slowing down, stepping back, and being present to realize I’ve always had enough.  always.

“Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18

last week I laid it all out there.

I challenged all of you

to stop chasing the

supermom mentality.

to live your best life.

to bask in the moments

with your children.

I know just the way

for y’all

to do it,

to spend the summer

being amazing.

it’s a summer bucket list.

a challenge

to spend precious moments

with the ones who

adore you.

the happy family movement

is about getting back to

real moments,

imaginative play,

letting kids

be

kids.

get on the wagon.

join the revolution.

be awesome.

you’re kids will

never forget

how you made them feel

so special.

check back soon for my family’s summer bucket list…we can’t wait for the challenge to start on May 21st!

thank you all for your kind blog & FB comments, emails, and texts after my post yesterday.  it’s nice to know that we’re all striving to be present in our kids’ lives, to make all the moments matter not just the ones other people see.  keep at it…you’ll never forget the way those moments make your heart feel, and neither will your children.

‘… and she loved a boy very, very much– even more than she loved herself.’ | Shel Silverstein, The Giving Tree

from his birthday invitation shoot last night.  to say he had fun, would be the understatement of the year.  I can’t wait to share all of these with you after his party!

it’s been

“one of those days”

for weeks now.

the hamster wheel is

out.of.control.

every time I get

caught up

with work, with laundry, with cleaning house,

I turn and realize

I’ve missed an extra cuddle,

a rolli-polli hunt,

a fort-building-extravaganza,

a moment with my boys I’ll

never

get back.

It’s time to stop trying to be

super mom.

She’s over rated,

and a little dust in the corner

never hurt anyone.

I’m putting this out there…I’m letting down the walls.  I don’t want to miss any more moments, any more tiny belly laughs or big boy hugs.  I want to find the balance (and maintain it!) again.  Get back to what matters most.  These days, weeks, and months will be gone before I know it.  Did you know the little guy is turning TWO in just a few short weeks? two.  

how do you find balance?

when do you know it’s time to slow down, step back, and reevaluate how you are living your life?  

are your days spent doing what you love, with people you adore and who adore you in return?

let’s encourage each other to be the best versions of ourselves.  to go through life passionately and with purpose.  to do God’s will.  to teach our children kindness and respect for all life.  to make our pockets of the world the most amazing place to be.

join me.  it’s about to get awesome.

I snuck in while he napped today.  He isn’t feeling 100%, he needed some extra snuggles before falling asleep, and I was glad to give them to him.  This is what I want to remember…the long, dark eyelashes, the tousled hair, the slow rhythmic sound as he breathes in and out, the smell of laundry soap and boy, the way his arm wraps around mine as we snuggle close…

the storms rolled in,

the power went off.

for most of the day,

we were in silence.

no tv,

no computer,

no Internet.

I loved

every

second.

and I’m pretty sure

the boys

did too.