Needle + Thread

Growing up, I was a girl scout. I loved it. Every other week, I hung out with my girlfriends after school, enjoyed some sort of peanut butter snack and worked on crafts. A group of the coolest moms helped us make lanyards, took us on our first camping trips and taught us the exquisite art of selling cookies. As a reward for our efforts, we were given patches. And when we were Brownies, oh boy did we earn patches! I feel like we were given patches every month. And since this was before the patches had the iron-on adhesive, we lovingly sewed those triangles onto our brown sashes. Well, we didn’t. Our moms and grandmothers were provided this wonderful task.

I would pass my sash and new patches off to one of my grandmas – whoever was assigned the task that time – and wait in anticipation. When I finally received the sash from my grandma, which sometimes seemed like an eternity, I remember looking at each stitch and how it looped around the patch.

Over. Under. Over. Under.

It didn’t move. It was sewn on with such care and love. And it was not coming off. It was now a part of me.

Needle + Thread // Memories with Family

That was years ago. So many years. But the familiar gesture started to come back into our lives. This is the first Halloween Madeline had an opinion, and a strong one at that, about her costume selection.

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Another Year In The Books

This past weekend, my bubbs and I celebrated that beautiful day when we decided to promise forever to each other.

H A P P Y  A N N I V E R S A R Y ,  J – B U B B S !1934837_527922961658_1201333_n

I won’t gush or say how he still makes my heart swoon. :) Although we are still newlyweds, only four years into this wild ride, I’ve learned a few things along the way. Great lessons {and maybe a cliche’ or two} that are constantly carried in our hearts as helpful reminders.

Although we wrote our own vows and made promises to each other that were uniquely ours, the backbone was rooted in faith and tradition.

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Confessions from a Working Mom

The post is entirely and completely inspired by Scarlett’s confessional post. And I think a lot of us could benefit from just getting it off our chest, knowing we are not alone in this wonderful but sometimes exhausting journey of parenthood. I must admit to myself that I’m still in disbelief that I’m a mother. Not that I never wanted to be a mom. Opposite. It’s one of my callings, what I was put on this earth to do. It’s still a surprise, a heart-drop, a second-take to hear my little girl call me mama.

My second calling after a family? A career. I never really doubted this, but the temptation to stay with my daughter sometimes makes me weak in my knees, bringing me to tears, pulling at my heart and pleading with me to just figure out a way to make it happen. This moment is fleeting. I soon realize that what I ultimately want is … well, I want it all. I need it all. And, really, the definition of “all” is subjective. How I define “all” could be the complete opposite to you. I think that’s great. It’s perfect. And I’m completely satisfied with my all.

But having it all forces a person to adapt to change. Why? Because my two worlds often meet…every day, in fact…

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A Writing Process

My computer bit the big one last week. It’s RIDICULOUS how attached we become to technology, but really, it was more than that…it held a LOT of information, like tons of pictures dating back to 2010, design files, word docs up the wazu, downloaded goodness…so. many. pictures. {Please wait while I pick up my heart off the floor…}

We are still going to see if there is a way to retrieve this data but during my down time, I started thinking about how this time away from a home computer helped re-energize the writing process of this part-time blogger. It opened my mind to a new process that I believe will allow me to craft more thoughtful, intentional posts. So far, the process is working out great.

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Tumultuous Twos, Enter Stage Right.

I think the two year old, or rather the year itself, gets a bad rap.

I never really understood why people would call this age “terrible.” I’m sure there are enough moms out there that would like to slap my wrists and call me a newb. They hang their mama veteran status high and proud. “I’ve been through it all,” they say, “and those twos are terrible.”

To those veteran moms: I hear ya, loud and c l e a r. You paved the way and let us newbs know that the light shines at the end of that somewhat scary tunnel. I continue to look up to you, honor you, respect you. But I can’t agree with you…not on this.

Maybe it’s just the word terrible. Terrible. It just sounds…terrible. But through it all, was it really that terrible?

I’m opting for a search + replace of that word…

In September, we welcomed the tumultuous twos. A new stage in our Madeline’s life FOR SURE. This stage is a bit louder. IN YOUR FACE. It’s messy. Exaggerated. A roller-coaster. In short, it’s F U L L.

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