I write the girls a love letter for their birthdays every year. My first born turned ten at the of February. I've been belated with them, but I'm still here trying. I have piled up drafts to work on, but these seem the most important thing I have to write I am blessed in life… Continue reading Dear Year Ten.
The idea of taking a leap and investing in myself is always agonizingly inner-monologue guilt inducing. Not because I feel less than deserving or because I view it as a bad way to spend money. However, it always feels irresponsible. Match and I support four children. Two we share with our Exes. Right now I… Continue reading Held
It is funny how the passage of time works. The benchmark of a year simultaneously feels as if it is creeping by at a leisurely pace until it arrives without warning with sudden, jarring realization that time passed you by. My last baby will be turning three in a matter of weeks now. I haven't… Continue reading Vision, Prayer, and Small Callings