True Life

I always aim to be honest. Even in social media, I don’t pretend my life into a wonderful Pinterest picture. I am not interested in creating a fake appearance that everyone can look at. Instead, I am being real. 

In my effort to be real and honest with myself, I created an Instagram account for what I eat. I did not mean for it to become some public thing and yet Instragam has a way of sharing your news with people. Now my eating habits are being followed by 23 people. 

As I began to get followers, my first instinct was to hide some of the stuff I have been eating. Why? Because I rarely eat fruits or vegetables. RARELY. It is something I have struggled with for years and it has come to a head this year. My health isn’t exactly great and I have high cholesterol. So I need changes. Desperately. 

Anyway, having followers on my Instagram account has made me start second guessing my food choices which is initially why I made a food account. I read a study about people who took pictures of their food were more likely to eat less. (Don’t ask me to find this study because that is too much work.)

The good. The bad. The ugly. I think as a person I try to keep it out in the open. I like to think that people enjoy good refreshing honesty. You know what? Being honest with yourself is the first step in living it out in the social media world. 

Telling myself the truth. The cold hard truth is one of the hardest things I do. 

These are the rambling thoughts of a mother as she stuffs her face with tacos. Happy Taco Tuesday!

Yes my face is always that red and my hand is always that white. It’s an Irish thing? 

I Am Thirty

Yesterday I rung in my 30th year and what better way to do that than with a stomach bug? I have four kids and a husband. The stomach started earlier in the week for us and worked its way through one by one until yesterday when it hit my husband and myself…on my 30th birthday. 

I will spare you the details, just know, it wasn’t pretty. Never have I wanted a birthday to pass so quickly. 

This is life with four kids five and under am I right? Nothing is sacred or special anymore. It is filled with gross. They are blessed with cuteness or else I might be mad about my day being taken from me. 

Getting real, this is honestly not a surprising way for my birthday to come. Last year I began deciding that I was going to make some serious life changes. Self improvement type things within my own person. My 30th year was going to be a year of change and boy am I getting it. 

I started the year with what some may consider a mental break down. A collision of stress and anxiety topped with a few health issues. These health issues have continued and finally coming to head with the stomach bug. The mental side has been on a healing path due to some much needed counseling. Thank Jesus for those people! 

It has been a very up and down few months to start my year. It has felt discouraging at points but overall I feel as if this is encouraging. My plans for change will not be thwarted by set backs. I will press on. I will get back up on my feet and keep striving for what I want out of this year. 

The good, the bad, the ugly, the glorious, the beautiful…my path is constantly going in a new direction and my person is changing with each turn. I don’t ever want to stop changing and becoming the woman God has called me to be. 

Are you in a tough place? Seeing the light is hard in the darkness, but with Christ the light is always there. Are you dealing with unbelief? Check out Mark 9 when you get a minute, especially around verse 23…a father asking Jesus to heal his son. Jesus but it will happen if a person believes it will happen. My favorite line right now is what is next from the Father. “I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief!”

Come on Jesus! We can ask him anything…even to help us overcome our unbelief in HIM! Thank God for how awesome he is. Loving us in such a way where he can and will restore our belief in who he is. 

So today, take a breather and raise your eyes to heaven and remind your heart to believe. Ask for your heavenly fathers help to believe. 

A Slave to Fear

When God wants to speak to you, it may not be in the conventional way of saying words into your ears. He speaks through many avenues. Over the past few years, I have dealt with the darkness that anxiety brings. It has been a hilly road and I have no doubt that it will continue to be so. 

Over the past week my anxiety levels have been running at high speed, chasing me into physical ailments and shoving me into the walls of my mind. If you have ever experienced these feelings, then you know. If you haven’t…then you can’t possibly understand. 

I become paralyzed by fear. Irrational fear. I can not even pinpoint one fear, I have them all. In the past few days, God has clearly spoken to me through the avenues of worship, His word and confirmed them by lovely, godly women in my life. 

No Longer Slaves by Bethel

1 John 4:18-19

I have been a slave to fear but the Bible tells me that perfect love casts out all fear. Therefore, I am no longer a slave to fear.

How powerful is that image? A slave. Someone bound to someone else or in this case something else. When I am living in fear, I am not living in the pure love that God has so freely given me. 

As I said, I don’t doubt that anxiety will completely leave me today and maybe not tomorrow. Why? Because I live in the world and as long as I am here, there will be trials. The trials make me stronger and bring glory to my Father. He is a good, good Father. 

I hope that you have found some encouragement in my words. If you struggle with anxiety and feel completely alone…well my dear friends know this…you are absolutely not alone! 

Potty Training

It might be time to potty train if:

Your child takes a wipe to themeselves in the middle of a diaper change. 

Your son strips down, takes off his diaper, wraps it up and throws it away before getting in the bathtub. 

Your child says yes when asked if they are pooping. 

Your daughter is saying “I stinky mommy! I don’t like poopy mommy!” In the middle of a diaper change. 

Your twins ask to sit on the toilet…but you tell them no. 

As a mother of four kids, one trained and three in diapers…the idea of potty training two children at the same time feels completely overwhelming. My twins will be three in January. They are both basically ready to be potty trained. I am not ready. 

Many people tell me that it is time, and I know this, but I have to be ready just as much as my kids have to be ready. For now, we are waiting for the holidays to pass before stepping foot into the world of panties and mattress covers. I am not looking forward to it all. Sure I am tired of constantly changing diapers, but the thoughts of wiping up pee or dealing with a kid who doesn’t like to poop on the potty…well it keeps me from starting. 

The likelihood of them being 15 and not potty trained is very slim, so in my mind, I have plenty of time. 

Until then, I will eat this tub of raw cookie dough and watch my son’s play on the bathtub. 

Peace Out…oh yeah, go vote!

The Good Ole Days

My father is a wise man. I enjoy hearing his opinions and taking in whatever wisdom he offers. Do I always agree with him? Of course not, but that doesn’t change the way I think about him. He is a father of four kids and a grandfather to eight going on nine kiddos, five and under. Let’s say the man has had some life experience. 

I, like my father, have four children. The days run me over like a MAC truck ramming over a soda can. Many days it is difficult to see the future due to the giant mountain standing right in front of me. The mountains change daily. Spilled blueberry smoothie all over the carpet, poop under your fingernail (insert gagging), or maybe my child’s attitude is appalling. During one of those moments of pure frustration, my dad leans over and says, “just remember…these are the good ole days.” 

In the moment I want to slap his words away from myself. Heck. To. The. No. Sir. Good ole days. Psh. Finally we are home and all children are in their beds sound asleep. I assess the damage of the day and sit down instead of cleaning. I go through photos on my phone and begin to recall the sweet moments from the days. Simple acts of love from my daughter reaching for my hand and holding it. My son making goofy faces to make me laugh or trying to distract my eyes from the mischief he was causing. My oldest girl telling endless made up knock knock jokes and laughing at her jokes that make no sense. 

My children bring me pure, unadaltered joy. They send rage coursing through my entire body. Their kisses on my cheek are overwhelmingly sweet and sticky with snot all at the same time. Their love for me is forgiving and full of grace. 

Being a parent is the hardest and most gratifying life decision I have ever made. I would not change these moments for anything because it is true…I am living in the good ole days. 


The thing that comes to haunt me in the night. Perfectionism is a ghost that trails behind me whispering in my ear all the faults I have made and constantly reminding me of the to do lists that have not been completed. 

I am a woman. I am a wife. I am a mom. All of these parts of me require work. Showering. Dressing. Learning my husband. Teaching my children. Cleaning. Cooking. Driving. Laundering (clothing not money). These are the basics. I can barely scrape my way through the basics. 

Eat healthy! Work those buns! See the latest eyeliner to make your eyes pop! What?! You aren’t contouring your make up?! What kind of woman are you? Ew the toilet seat has a ring? Lady when is the last time you cleaned that joker. Yoga pants again? 

When did the pressure come for me to be perfect? Has it always been there and I didn’t notice it? Have I slowly become more aware of it over the years?

Want to know the kicker? No one is holding me to these standards except me. In the end, I don’t truly care what others think of me as a mom. My husband praises me for the mom I am. I have no ending of encouragement from those around me and yet I get so angry at myself. 

I want to be the best but guess what…what’s think is best is likely not God’s best. I am not saying He doesn’t want me to clean my toilets but it for sure isn’t the end all be all of my life. 

2016. I want this year to be a year of awakening. In my spiritual life, my emotional life, and even my physical body. It takes one step at a time. When I fail? I need to pick myself up and keep going with the knowledge that I am not alone. That He sees me as a work in progress and I too should view myself that way. 

I have big plans for 2016 but if God has bigger plans? That is fine by me. 

Here is to a new year folks!


Are bad things happening more often or in the age of social media do we hear more? Probably a little bit of both. Everywhere I look are lives filled with terrible events, homes being broken, children being killed, racial conflicts, financial woes, slavery, and quite frankly anything under the sun. Brokenness is everywhere. 

If I were to dwell on the state of earth, I would need to be on some anxiety medication. As I read the horrific headlines, because I can’t make it past the headlines, I feel completely overwhelmed. I am grieved. How can people act in such a manner?! My mind is blown away by the amount of hatred that seems to seep from people. 

Then I stop and think, they are broken. They are broken in the same way I am broken. So what is the difference? I know the redeemer. I bring my awful, broken self to the father of truth. Sure I have to drag this body full of mistakes to him often and usually for the same reasons as the first time I went. I am fallen. We are all fallen. 

Learning to look at the world through the eyes of grace is a difficult step. I want to carry my righteous anger around and pray wrath on the evil men and women who create destruction! But I am not called to that. Instead, I am called to plead mercy over them, to pray over the broken. 

I encourage you today, when you want to point your finger at someone (even if it is just in your mind) take a moment and remind yourself that they are hurting. Ask God to give you the grace to extend to the broken, as he has already extended to you. 

Peace for the Journey

I keep coming back to this picture my sister in law sent me of my daughter. This is Florida. Pool time is basically essential to survive the summer months. Sure I see this picture and love it for the very fact that it is my first baby girl. 

The more I look at it, the more I see. 

Here is what I see under the surface:

Until recently, she has been afraid to let herself lay back in water. She is overcoming fear. She has learned to swim floaty free this summer. Practing the art of diligence. She is enjoying the water and sun how God intended. She is mixing with nature. 

Does she not look peaceful? When was the last time you lay your head back into a body of water and let the sounds of movement touch you to the core? Even now, I can hear the waves and the muffled voices of people above the water speaking. I can feel my hair swaying back and forth with the swaying of the ripples. 

This is a moment of peace. A time of not worrying about tomorrow. A knowing that God sees it all and is watching over me. Holding on to the thought that His ways are far greater than mine and the fact that His burden is easy. 

I hope you are walking in peace today. 

Low Times

Then there are the low times. You know the days. Your life is good. Your heart believes it and your mind is sure of it, yet the low times can tear you down fast. When it happens, you are completely shocked and caught unawares! I was sipping my coffee and reading my devo when nothing happened and my day was turned inside out. 

So what took place? How could my day possibly turn into shambles? 

Life. This the only answer I can come up with. I am a person, walking the human path, and on this journey are the struggles, the hormones, the unbelievable. My reaction can mold the end result. I can sulk. I could cry. I may eat a tub of cookie dough while doing the first two. I will even fall into a sleep stupor to avoid my own thoughts. 

I had done all the above, but some days…I get it right. I sit and yell at God, “why?!” I cry to Him. I shout at Him ABOUT Him and the unfairness of my emotions. I meditate on the music He sendsover my radio. He has His arms open and He beckons me to Him. I sit and He holds me. He whispers in my heart’s ear about the love He has for me. He reveals the areas where indeed His hand was moving me and He encourages me to keep going. 

He does not turn me away. He accepts me. He graciously molds my mind and heart. 

Today…today I am thankful He loves me. 

Sit Quietly

My dad puts together a yearly collage of our family videos from each year. It is one of the few TV watching experiences that my 16mo old twins will sit through. So as they sit and watch themselves and their cousins, I sit and drink coffee. 

Twenty minutes of uninterrupted coffee sipping and reading. Often times I scroll through social media sites and see friends with their families doing amazing adventure type stuff. For a moment, I rage in angry jealousy but then I set the thought down and thank God for the life I lead. I remind myself “my life is not their life.” 

Truthfully, I want it that way! I don’t honestly desire to live someone else’s path for even a moment. If I did, then I wouldn’t be in mine and the thought of that is heart breaking. I love my husband, my children, and my family. I sort of deal with my house and I am thankful to be driving a mini van everyday. (Seriously, mini vans are the shiz.)

In high school, I used to tell my friends “if the grass is greener on the other side of the fence it is high time you watered your own.” I still believe that! 

Take a moment to think and if there are areas you would like to experience change, then make a change. Life is fluid. We are not doomed to a situation or one way of thinking. If we didn’t have hope…a hope to change, then what would we have? 

We are not stuck. No one holds us back more than ourselves. Take a breath, ask God for guidance, and jump. 

Happy Friday!