Christmas Season: A Mother's Heart

Christmas has fallen upon us once more.

Softly, tenderly, like the first snow.

There is something so magical about this time of year!

The twinkly lights,

the cozy evenings spent inside cuddles by the fire and tree.

Hot cocoa, movies, sweet treats galore.

And yet...

this season brings so much more.

We have heard the Sunday School answer time and time again.

"Jesus is the reason for the season!"

With all the silliness aside -

that is the simple truth of it all.

Ever since I became a mother

six and a half years ago,

the weight of the Christmas Story 

felt more real and tangible to me.

All of the sudden, as I sat there nursing my little baby,

I felt so close to Mary, mother of Jesus.

I can still remember is so clearly.

Holding Claire all swaddled in my arms.

I had a sense of sisterhood with Mary.

A bond that stretched over hundreds of years.

Now I could truly feel for her as I thought about

riding a donkey for miles very pregnant.

I thought about what it would really mean to give

birth in a place so not worthy of welcoming the Christ Child!

What it meant for her to have the

King of the World at her breast.

Petting his soft hair as he suckled away,

gaining his strength and nourishment from her.

When I gave birth to both my girls,

I felt like the Heavens had opened and 

handed me the world's most precious gift.

For Mary,

the Heavens literally did open up and

gave her the world's Savior to raise into a man

that would ultimately pay the

Ultimate Sacrifice for the sins of the world.

Joy to the world

The Lord has comeLet earth receive her King
Joy to the earth
The Savior reigns
Let men their songs employ
While fields and floods
Rocks, hills, and plains
Repeat the sounding joy
Repeat the sounding joy
Repeat, repeat the sounding joy

With truth and grace
And makes the nations prove
The glories of His righteousness
And wonders of His love
And wonders of His love
And wonders, wonders of His love.

The whole world rejoiced

when the King was born.

A baby,

born to Mary.

The King of Kings,

born to a teenage girl

who was a virgin.

Something about that just hit me.

The significance of the 

Christmas story completely changed for me.

And every Christmas after that 

I think about Mary raising this boy.

Every child is special,

but hers,

now He was truly something else.

He rules the world
With truth and grace
And makes the nations prove
The glories of His righteousness
And wonders of His love
And wonders of His love
And wonders, wonders of His

What about you?

Did you feel a different, stronger connection

to Mary mother of Jesus after becoming a mother yourself?

Mommy Mondays: Worth Reblogging

This post originally was written for

 A Good Mother Project. 

I had to share it here because it is just so true,

 I think you need to read it too.

---

It takes a village to raise a child. But some days it’s just me. In fact most days it’s just me. In the beginning this was tough – hands down the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do – and I have a couple of degrees under my belt for Pete’s sake. Why was it so damn hard being home alone with my child those first few months? There were mornings I would literally sob the moment my husband left for work.

Well, for starters, she screamed. A lot. When I tell people how hard it was they say, “Oh yeah, but that’s normal.” Trivializing my experience. Making me feel like I was a failure because it being hard is just “normal.” Nothing. Even. Worth. Discussing. “Oh yeah, but that’s normal.” As soon as these words would leave their lips, I instantly had the urge to justify my statement by providing further information.

“Normal?” I’d say, “Well she screamed for five hours straight most days and there was one day where it was eight hours. We couldn’t go anywhere after 3pm because we knew what would happen.” Immediately, I’d hate myself for trying to justify anything. Why should I? Anyone remotely understanding would get it. Because you know what? Even though all the mums in my mothers group had comparatively calm babies, they still had it tough.

They were still getting up through the night to feed their babies multiple times. They were still battling exhaustion. They were still adjusting to their brand new life with an extra person and a lot less patience, sleep, and time. No matter what “type” of baby you have, those first few months are HARD. And no-one, NO-ONE should ever brush you off, or make you feel weak when you admit it.

A few months later, I was organizing my daughter’s christening and a guest rang to RSVP. A fellow mother. She asked me how I was doing and I said “It’s a bit busy, but things are going okay.” Understatement of the year.

She practically whooped with delight. It honestly felt like she had set me up just so she could bring me down. Before I’d even had a chance to finish my sentence she said: “Oh darling, wait ‘till you have three – then you’ll know what busy means!” When I rang off, I was fuming. Why? Why must we do this to each other? Why couldn’t she just say “I hear ‘ya sista! I barely have time for the toilet!” Or something like that?

She had no idea what my new life as a parent was like. Perhaps I’d woken up to a screaming baby twelve times the night before and had had two hours sleep. What if I’d had a really tough pregnancy and was battling PPD? What if my baby had developed an allergy and had been in and out of hospital for the past fortnight? In one fell swoop she dismissed me. Her patronizing, and might I add, dangerous response made me feel like what I’d been through did not matter; like I was not worthy of her sympathy because I only had the one child. And really, it would have been so easy for her to be supportive instead.

Shortly after this incident we were at a 2nd birthday party and a friend of a friend had just finished describing a rough night with her baby daughter. When she finished speaking she went silent for a few moments and then said, “I don’t know why I’m complaining, sorry, I know I have it good compared to you.” I told her to complain away – we all have our problems to deal with – and talking about them helps. The thing is, there’s nothing to gain from comparing our problems and rewarding the most stressed out mother with a gold medal. Apart from a figurative gold medal to the highest cortisol carrier. Each and every parent has the right to say “I’m having a rough time.”

Do you know why they say it takes a village to raise a child? Because it’s HARD. And for me and many other women most days there is no village. It’s just mum and bub alllll day lonnnngg.

And dammit, I will not be ashamed to say that some days are a struggle.

Mothers need to talk about how difficult parenting can be. New parents-to-be should not be going into their new life completely blind. I’m not saying we should traumatize every pregnant woman we see, I’m just saying – let’s be a little more real so that new parents don’t get such a shock in those early months. BUT we can only be more real when we’re not being patronized, judged, or made to feel like we’re “complaining over nothing” every time we speak up.

Mothers need to be able to safely say things like, “Shit my house is such a mess a 30 minute clean wouldn’t even scratch the surface, and I just ate a packet of Doritos for breakfast” without someone responding with, “Wow, I have two whole children, still managed to clean my house this morning and make myself Eggs Benedict!” Yep this was a real conversation I read on a mother’s forum (the Eggs Benedict may have been a slight exaggeration).

Mothers need to be given adequate time and space to talk about what they’re experiencing – no matter how big or small.You might receive just one phone call during a really tough time and you have thirty seconds to get something off your chest. The person on the other end of the line should support you, not tear you down.

Mothers need a village, but most days, there might not be a literal village on stand-by to help change nappies, puree broccoli, and say “noooo, don’t put that in your mouth.” But you know what? We can be each other’s village. Whether it be online, over the phone, face-to-face – we can support one another – even if it’s for a few minutes a day. We can only do it if we acknowledge that each other’s parenting journey is different – some may have an “easy” child, others may have a “reflux” baby – it doesn’t matter. We all have it hard some days and we need to respect that. It’s only through this respect a village of mothers supporting one another can be born.

Then, even on the days it’s just me – I’ll know I’m not really alone. I’ll have my darling, sweet girl, yes that’s true. And I’ll have the strength of a thousand mothers to guide and uplift me. Who, through their words, actions, and subtle glances, send me the message:

You are not alone, we are your village.

Marina is a sometimes scientist, sometimes jewelry maker, accidental chef, and an always mum. She has slowly emerged from the trauma of the first four months of her baby daughter’s life to…write about the traumatic first four months of her daughter’s life, and the brighter days that followed.

Mommy Mondays: Mommy Style

There is a joke that the mother uniform

is a pair of yoga pants and t shirt.

Well yes, it is definitely the most comfortable

and probably most practical outfit 

for chasing toddlers and changing babies.

It certainly isn't the most fashionable.

Believe me,

I definitely have days

where I am at home doing chores

and I don't care one bit how I look.

I am all about comfort.

However,

sometimes I find I get stuck in a rut.

I have little energy to put into how I look

and it loses priority. 

One of my goals

for this year was to learn 

how to take better care of myself,

and this falls under that category.

I certainly don't do it well.

There are many days where I fall into that rut again.

This I can tell you - I am trying.

Each day I try to do at least a bit of make up,

put on clothes that are comfortable and cute

and look presentable.

The hard part for me is make up. 

The balance between wearing make up

because it makes me feel better

and teaching my daughter that I need it to feel better.

I want to show her that I can think I am beautiful without it.

I want to teach her that it isn't needed to feel beautiful.

Right now we talk about make up as being fun.

It is fun to put on fancy dresses,

do our hair and wear make up.

Sometimes it makes our already pretty selves even prettier, 

highlighting our best features.

Admittedly, this is a struggle for me.

Jennifer Garner has spoken before

about limiting her make up

for the sake of her daughters.

This intrigued me and always stuck with me,

especially now that I have two girls of my own.

Where is the balance between relying on it

and using it to help us feel beautiful and confident?

What are you thoughts?

I like to simply put on a lotion with SPF,

fill in my brows and apply a couple coast of mascara.

To me, that helps me feel awake and comfortable. 

Sometimes, when I have the extra time (ha!),

I like to play around with make up and try different things. 

Regardless of how much make up I put on,

I always feel a bit better when I take an extra couple of minutes

to choose an outfit and try a little bit harder.

I don't have that feeling when I go out

like I'd be embarrassed to I run into someone I know.

Which in this small town is inevitable. 

Here are a few pieces to help tie together a look

that is simple and comfortable for any mom.

1. A good lotion with SPF.

It really doesn't matter what lotion it is, just make sure it has a high enough SPF.

(image via Mari Claire UK, their recommendations here.) 

2. Basic t-shirts, in a few solid colours. 

These are great for layering, and in basic colours like black and white, they are versatile and go with anything. I like the ones from Old Navy because they are inexpensive. I don't cry when my kids spit up on them, rip them or generally destroy them. They are replaceable and comfortable.

3. Camisoles

Again in basic colours. I like them for layering as well, under a sheer top, or just for some added warmth. I used them especially while breast feeding because I could lift up my top without exposing my midsection. 

4. A pair of comfortable and versatile jeans. 

I am in love with my boyfriend jeans and went through a phase where I wore them way too often. They are definitely casual, however they can be played up a bit with a nicer top and cute shoes. A juxtapose between ultra feminine and very casual. Dark wash skinny jeans are great as well, especially when worn with boots.

(via Google images)

5. A cardigan or wrap sweater

Again, layers. Typically I aim for the three c's -comfy, cozy and cute. There are some adorable styles out there right now, the Aztec print being a big one. 

(image via polyvore.com) 

6. A really good mascara

'Nuff said.

7. A pop of lip colour. 

It is amazing how a touch of lipstick can transform an outfit! My favourite colour is Hot Tahiti by MAC.

(via mylittlemakeup.com)

8. Comfortable footwear.

Yes, comfortable. As a mom I can't explain how hard it is to run after your toddler in heels. Or tread through a sea of tiny pebbles at the playground in wedge sandals. Shoes can definitely be cute, but practical and comfortable has taken top priority in the shoe department. I will still bring out the heels for a special occasion.

For everyday wear I love my Keds. I slip them on and am out the door. I can go for a long walk, ride my bike and stroll through the mall without wearing my running shoes. 

For the fall and winter, I really love my boots and booties. I have two pairs of tall boots in black and brown that are flat. I also have a pair of brown ankle boots in a tan colour, with about a half inch heel. They are really cute and dress up my outfit a bit, but I can still play with my kids in them. 

9. A good bra.

Those babies need support. 

10. A pair of earrings. 

I am rarely seen without a pair of earrings. A tiny drop or studs are my favourite for everyday wear. They just add a touch of femininity to any outfit. These ones by Stella and Dot are my current favourite and can be worn two ways. 

(via Stella & Dot)

There you have it!

My list of simple ways to

go from frumpy mommy

to stylin' mommy.

Which ways do you add a little something

special to your outfit that help make you

feel beautiful? 

Comment below, I'd love to hear! 

A Mother's Doubt

It's nights like tonight

that doubt over takes me.

As my sweet three year old sleeps soundly in her bed,

I am kept awake by swirling thoughts 

of whether or not I did enough.

The list of things I did wrong with her today consume me.

Just as I was about to stand up after dinner,

she came up to me and asked,

"Can I sit on your knee Mama?"

I said no.

In that moment it was justified.

I had to clean up dinner and start running the bath.

We were already behind on our bed time routine by 20 minutes.

Now that she is sleeping I am tearing myself apart.

Why did I say no?! 

Today when she had a temper,

I lost mine.

I yelled.

It has been my goal not to

and I broke that promise to myself.

I raised my voice, only to have her raise hers right back at me.

Replaying the moment in my mind

I am bewildered at how quickly I can act like a three year old

and allow her to control my actions.

This evening I scheduled a doctor appointment

during the girls' bedtime.

Feeling confident that Dad would be just fine,

I left the house.

What I came home to was a screaming baby 

that only wanted her mom.

My heart was breaking,

my baby was crying and my husband felt helpless.

As I nursed her my mind was going from heartache

for my baby, feeling sad for my husband and frustrated that

I can't leave the house for an hour without being needed.

I wasn't there when she was crying for me.

I wasn't there to offer her warm milk and a breast to fall asleep against.

This morning,

my arms were full of baby and bags while out shopping.

Claire left the store and wandered down the mall corridor alone.

I called out her name. I yelled her name.

My heart raced and a sweat began to break.

Trying to hard to keep the panic at bay, and the "what ifs" locked out of my mind,

I rushed outside the store to see Claire running toward me.

I keep going back to that moment.

That relief of seeing her; being so thankful in that moment

that it was a lapse in her judgement,

her disobedience and not a stranger,

that took her from my side for mere seconds.

At the end of the day,

when Claire's wraps her arms around my neck

and tells me I am the best mommy ever,

I am overwhelmed by her grace.

Her ability to put aside, or even forget,

my moments when I said no and should have said yes.

She doesn't sit on it all day

and let it consume her.

She says,

"It's okay Mama, I forgive you" and skips right along.

I have so much to learn from her.

On days like today

I lay in bed and wonder did I love them enough?

Did I give them the never-ending love that my Heavenly Father gives me?

In the moment of panic, of losing my temper,

was my love able to shine over it all?

Tomorrow is a new day,

and I pray for His mercies new for me again.

That I can extend that to my girls

whether tomorrow if filled with temper tantrums,

sass, crying and/or teething.

That the love of Christ transcends through me,

and pours all over those sweet little girls.

God gave them to me,

I promised Him to protect and love them.

I pray by His sovereign power I can do that well.

Expectations vs. Reality

At 21 I was newly engaged and dreaming of my life with my husband.

Like any bride-to-be,

I had high hopes of what life would be like as a wife.

With both my own mother, and my soon-to-be mother-in-law,

I had a fine example of domestic bliss.

In my mind's eye,

I saw myself happily working away in the kitchen.

Baking pies, learning new recipes and hosting fabulous dinner parties.

My house was always tidy.

The dishes were always done,

the laundry neatly folded in the correct drawers

and the bathrooms were spotless.

Anne Taintor 

What I didn't see were the realities and the hardships behind it all.

That perfect recipes mean many burnt attempts along the way.

A clean house required time spent scrubbing.

Spotless bathrooms meant wiping someone else's pee on the toilet seat.

(Yuk!)

That once children come along,

keeping a house tidy for more than 10 minutes 

would be nearly impossible.

Hosting elegant dinner parties 

means money spent on beautiful glassware and linens.

Behind the beautiful scene of a perfect homemaker,

comes hours of work.

Within the first year of marriage

my dreams of being Holly Homemaker were dashed.

As Spencer and I learned how to co-exist
and learn a new way of doing things,
I realized my expectations were set too high.

The thing is,
they were expectations I had set on myself.
I was completely oblivious to the
hours of work my mom and put into our home.
That 'bliss' was actually the wrong word for it.
The next few years were hard for me because I could
not let go of my own expectations.

When two people move in together,
they each come in with their own set of realities
and expectations.
They way things were done in their family.
Which jobs each of their parents did,
which chores they would do,
and how time was spent.

The idea of domestic perfection,
of Holly Homemaker or June Cleaver,
is ridiculous.
My bathroom will be cleaned once a week.
If you come over that day, you will find a clean bathroom.
If you tell me you are coming over,
you will find a clean bathroom.
Same goes for my floors an the dusting.
If you come over unannounced,
you will most likely find water spots
dried on the faucets,
dishes in the sink and crumbs under the kitchen table.

cartoonstock.com

In the past,
I would have a mini heart attack
when someone knocked on the door.
 I would rush quickly from room to room,
grabbing everything I could and throw it into a room
and shut the door.
Okay, sometimes I still do that.
But for the most part,
I am way better at opening the door with a big smile
and letting it all go.

After spending time living in Portland,
I learned how to embrace the truth
that having a clean house does not
equal happiness, peace in the home or
good hospitality.
There were times when we had overnight guests leaving
at the same time new ones were coming.
I had to learn to open the door to welcome them and say,
"Hi! I am just washing your sheets!"
All while the breakfast dishes from the previous guests had not yet been washed.

You know what made me happy?
People in my home.
They came to see my family,
not to see a perfectly clean house.
Nothing made me happier than having people in my home.
That is still true to this day.

It was such a unique community living there,
and I absolutely loved filling our table with people and feeding them.
Providing them with a meal and a break from studying.
Some of them lived alone, or had little time to make a home cooked meal,
and I was incredibly happy to do that for them.
Each week we would get together with two other families.
It was total chaos and I loved it.
It was a big lesson in what is truly important.

Once I changed my definition and idea of 'domestic bliss',
everything was seen in a different light.
I do not want my life to be measured by how many days my home went
without a mess.
But instead by the memories made inside my home.

My friend Rachel has a little wooden sign on her window sill that says,

Reading that gave me such freedom.
My babies are here for a short time,
my house can be tidy once they are gone.
And even then,
I will probably still choose
people over Pledge!

 Anne Taintor

"Oh, cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow.
But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby. Babies don't keep."
- last  verse of Song For a Fifth Child, Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

Finding Time For Quiet Time

As a mother,

finding time for yourself can be difficult.

Before I had kids,

I admittedly thought it was all a little over exaggerated.

How were you unable to have a shower? It takes 5 minutes!

You really didn't get to go pee all day? Please.

Oh how naive I was! 

This is me letting my 3 year old give me 'face paint'.

My attempt in keeping her quiet while on the phone.

Now as a mom,

I understand that not being able to sit down and pee (alone) 

is definitely a real thing. 

I have perfected how to unbutton my jeans,

pull them down, pull up my jeans and button them again

all with one hand! 

Yes, these may seem like small triumphs,

but triumphs they are.

It's all about learning and perfecting a whole new set of skills.

Being a mom is a big learning curve in so many ways.

That being said,

when it comes to carving out time

for yourself, it is a hard thing to do.

If I can't get the basics covered,

 like toileting and showering,

how could I possibly spend 30 minutes 

in alone reading my Bible?

Even painting my nails or shaving my legs

have become luxuries.

It is tough to readjust.

To shift my  priority and mindset,

carving out time for God each day.

The great thing is that God doesn't care

if I am showered in order to meet Him.

He doesn't mind that I may

have a little one on my lap watching

videos on my phone 

so that I can spend some time 

reading His word.

It certainly looks different with children, 

but it doesn't mean it has to stop.

God calls us to spend time with Him,

to study His word and to pray.

There are times for me when this is much easier,

and times when it seems impossible. 

For instance, when my oldest daughter was a baby she would take two,

sometimes three, naps a day.

That seemed easy enough for me to figure out.

The first nap was when I'd make a cup of tea and sit down with

my Bible and journal to have quiet time.

The other naps I would devote to cleaning or exercise.

As she grew older her naps decreased

and I had to choose how I wanted to spend that time.

Would I clean a disorderly and untidy house?

Would I shower, have a cup of coffee and breakfast in peace?

Or would I sit down and open my Bible?

It was a toss up every day.

Often times I chose a combination of the first two.

My devotionals and time with God

kept getting further down my list of priorities.

I'd tell myself it was too hard to sit down 

when there was so much else to be done.

Sure that may have been true, 

my to-do list was always long.

The best times to tackle it was when my daughter was sleeping.

It feels selfish to do something for ourselves.

Even if you don't have a belief system that you want to devote time to.

Just getting out to exercise, read a book,

go for a walk alone or sit and hear your own thoughts.

Using a portion of our day just for us feels foreign,

but it is so important. 

For our sanity, for our souls and for our families.

A solo bike ride at sun set. Peaceful and serene.

Recently, I started going to a fitness class.

I pack up the girls in the van and drive a short distance.

They have childcare there that's fun for the girls.

On the third day, Claire announced she didn't want to go.

That she would rather just stay at home.

The struggle for me to overcome the guilt of taking her anyway was incredible.

I wanted to give her what she wanted, 

a morning at home watching cartoons.

Yet I knew that taking one hour out of my day for myself

would ultimately be better for us all.

I reminded myself that my three year old thinks and expresses

what she wants in that moment.

 I needed to push through it and take her with me.

When I take the time to even spend 15 minutes to sit 

and read my devotional, and hopefully have enough time left over 

to write in my journal, I feel better prepared for the day.

It is almost as if I have a sense of peace over me.

My anxiety decreases, my temper isn't as short 

and I feel as if I can go with the flow of the day easier.

When I choose to take a shower, work out,

or spend a few minutes drinking a hot cup of coffee, I know 

that investing time for myself is also investing time for the my family.

The best version of Mommy is what my kids deserve.

Your time for yourself should be guilt free.

Don't get hung up on the fact that you need to be 

entirely alone, sometimes that just isn't a possibility. 

For the betterment of yourself,

make the time for some cleansing breaths,

a cup of tea and spend some time in the Word

reminding yourself you are a precious child of the King.

A marriage seminar and date night for Spencer and I.

Taking some time to work on and appreciate what we have.

I use the She Reads Truth app on my phone for great devotionals and to always have the Bible at my fingertips. It is a great way to stay connected. You can read it while making dinner, during your quiet time or (gasp!) in the bathroom! Right now I am enjoying the Fruits of the Spirit study. Read me review on the app here.

These Knees

These are my knees. 

I am not sharing a photo of my knees because they are pretty. 

In fact, quite the opposite. 

Sometimes when I am undressing,

 I look at my knees and see how dirty and calloused they are.
I feel embarrassed. 

They aren't worthy of shorts weather, they aren't beautifully tanned and hair-free.

But after this weekend, after playing in the dirt and sand, I feel proud of those knees. 

You may be staring at the photo and thinking, "Why?!"

I'll tell you why.

To me, my dirty, calloused knees mean that I get down and play with my kids. 

They are evidence of daily wear and tear

of being at eye level with them. 

Kneeling for several minutes to play on the floor, eat pizza made of play dough and This Little Piggy. 

Sitting on blankets in the dirt and on the grass.
Kneeling in the garden with Claire planting seeds and flowers.
They take the brunt of it all.

My knees are dirty; my heart is happy. 

{Photos from our long weekend adventure in Washington.}

Photo Stream

Having a phone with a great camera is 

such a great tool. It's also kind of a curse.

It is always in my back pocket but I have to make sure 

I am intentional about taking out my nice camera too! 

Here are some photos of some Smid adventures from the past couple of months. 

One of my favourite things of all time is watching these two play together. 

Ssssh, don't wake the baby. She loves to cuddle, so do I! This is our favourite way to do that and still play with big sis and get stuff done. 

Claire at AWANA 

I can't tell you how many times 'Buddy' has absolutely scared the pants off me!

We love our time with Isla Isabelle Cutie Patootie 

Charlotte Diamond concert with her bestie for M's birthday 

Love our morning cuddles so much. 

Headed to Moms and Babes sing-a-long. 

Don't worry, Buddy is in her backpack. 

Uncle Ty gets to read the girls their bedtime stories.

Our girls only 'Super Bowl Party' (no TV on)

Ice skating and lunch with grandma, great grandparents, auntie and cousin. 

Jane behind the wheel

Swim lessons! Little Salamander. 

Valentine's Day date to see Ben Howard

Friends learning a servants heart. Helping clean up after a church shower. 

Claire's favourite past time, eating at a restaurant. At Sophie's Cosmic Cafe on West 4th in Vancouver.

The start of our Portland vacation! 

New discoveries. The Vancouver Aquarium. 

Picnic at Prospect Point, Stanley Park

Sitting up all on her own!

Fun with sidewalk chalk! Love the imagination at this age! 

Finally printed off some family photos for my frames.

Jameson isn't exactly sure what Jane is for, but he likes her crinkly toys!

There you have it! A condensed version of the 1100+ photos on my phone! 

We spend great time with friends and one cute kids! We microwave coffee too many times, we cuddle, read and play. We had some amazing weather, a couple of vacations and even three dates since the new year.

This is going to sound silly, but often I am asked what the three of us girls get up to and I honestly can't think of how to answer that. Do I state the mundane things that take up the majority of my time like practicing counting and letter sounds? Practicing patience while letting my three year old spread her own peanut butter on toast? Changing dirty diaper, sometimes taking no shower and other says taking more than one bath? Swim lessons, Cubbies and play dates? 

Or do I speak of this highlight reel. That is so fun, holds great memories but is not a fair representation of our day to day life? Being home with these girls means so much to me. I love the mundane just as much, if not more, than the times we get to go to the aquarium. But yet when I say it, I feel self-conscious. Like somehow being their care taker, teacher, helper and play mate isn't quite enough. 

Can anyone else relate?