Thursday, December 7, 2017

A Kitty, A Train Ride, and Santa

Let's be honest, sometimes little brother's get the shaft.

They don't get to go to school with their big brothers (he still cries almost daily because of this).
They don't get to stay up as late.
Their toys are not as cool and the older sibling usually dictates what they do...

At the beginning of the week, Toren and I scheduled a date for just the two of us.
I had taken Landon on a date last month to go pick out a new Christmas tree, so it was Toren's turn to get some one-on-one time.

It's hard to determine what a two-year-old really likes. He really just likes whatever Landon likes by default.

However, I know for a fact that he loves the train at the mall. So that's where we went.

But, not without stopping and getting a slushie first.

We had a great time people watching all the mall goers who were running around like chickens with their head's cut off looking for the perfect Christmas gifts. 
Have these people never heard of Amazon Prime?

As we were walking to the train, the real reason we came to the mall in the first place, we passed Build-A-Bear which I'm sure looks really enticing to a two-year-old.

So, of course, we took a detour and went in.
We were planning on just looking, but then he fell in love with a little black kitty.

He just loved this kitty so much and they were having a good deal. 
So we splurged.

He loved putting the stuffing in and picking out a heart.
He was so proud of himself.

Naturally, he named it Mico which is the name of his real, black cat. 
He wasn't interested in the cute little box they give you and he happily carried Mico throughout the rest of the mall, showing it to anyone who gave him attention. 

Finally, we found the train! But it was currently in route, so went to see good ole Saint Nicholas. Except Toren wanted nothing to do with him. 
Toren told Santa that he was tired and refused to even be close to him. 

The train ended up being a big hit though!

The point of this post, is to share one of the only bits of parenting advice I have to offer...

Take your kids on "dates" or whatever you want to call them. 
Spend the one-on-one time with them. 
They get your undivided attention, you get to hear everything they say without interruption, and you get to know them more as an individual.

And one of the best parts is when you get home and they reunite with their siblings and act like they haven't seen each other in weeks. 

Here is a highlight video of our date...

Monday, December 4, 2017

Five years ago...

Five years ago, I went to the hospital because my back was hurting and ten hours later, I delivered a 6lb 13oz 20 in. long, beautiful, healthy, perfect, baby.

Yes, you read that correctly.
I've connected with so many people, especially in the last two years, who don't know this story.

And let's be honest, I'm an introvert by nature so it's not exactly the most comfortable conversation piece when initially meeting someone.
I don't typically share this "fun fact" about our family for three main reasons.

1. People think I'm crazy.
2. People think I'm lying.
3. I don't want this story to define Landon's life. It's simply how his story started.

I don't think about how that day went down very often. It's normal for us.
 However, every year, around this time, I like to stop and think about what I was doing and how I was feeling and how our world was changed in a matter of a few hours.

We were living in Pasadena, CA.
Tyler was in seminary and I was a nanny.

We had a car, but it wasn't reliable, especially in LA traffic.
So we commuted by bike.
We literally biked everywhere. Every single day. It was amazing.

Our life was so easy - minus the fact that our apartment costed us $1000 a month and it was the size of our current living room.
Tyler went to school and work, I worked during the day, we biked around Pasadena in the evenings, and we ate really good food.

Most weekends, we were hiking places like this...

And going to beaches and doing stuff like this...
                    (6 months pregnant)

It was pretty simple.

As fall approached, we started to miss the changing of the seasons.
It was almost 90 degrees on Thanksgiving day - so we did the only logical thing and we went to the beach where it was cooler.
This was our Thanksgiving dinner and it's still one of my favorite Thanksgivings to date.

I was living a really normal, active life.
Nothing was out of the ordinary except for the fact that I had really intense groin pain every now and then that I attributed to biking, and I could eat an entire box of Honey Nut Cheerios in one sitting.

We were preparing for Christmas and trying to make it feel like winter as much as we could in a California setting.

This picture was taken on December 4th.
Just a week before Landon was born.
We walked a few miles along the beach on this day particular day.
The 65-degree weather made it feel a little bit more winterish.

We even went to great lengths of finding "snow."
On December 8th, we decided to bike 20 miles to an outdoor shopping center where it "snowed" every 30 minutes.
We walked around, looked in all of the expensive So Cal shops, and sat on the roof of a bookstore, sipping hot chocolate, watching the "snow" fall.

The next morning, December 9th, I remember feeling strange. My body just felt off.
My back had a dull pain.
Not constant.
Enough to notice, but not unbearable, and definitely not enough to cause concern.
I had planned to turn our apartment into a winter wonderland for Tyler and I that night, along with an evening out to our favorite restaurant.
Except the back pain was getting a little worse as the day went on so we decided on take-out (Chipotle).

While Tyler went to pick up the food, I decorated the apartment to make it feel more like winter.

After eating dinner, dancing in our apartment, and a hot shower, the pain in my back was actually subsiding a little bit and I assumed whatever was happening was done.

Except it wasn't...

Because the next day it got worse.
The pain in my back was getting a little more intense.

I actually took a muscle relaxer, but it didn't touch the pain. Which makes perfect sense now.

Three full days of back pain that got more and more intense by the day.

On the fourth day, 12/12/12, I woke Tyler up around 8am and told him I needed to go to the hospital.

I was scared. Terrified actually.
For anyone who has experienced contractions, and birth - imagine having no idea why your body was in excruciating pain.

I remember laying in the back seat of our friend's car just trying to focus on breathing every time my back would tighten.

Tyler made the comment, "Hey! It's 12/12/12! That could be a cool birth date to have..."

Everything that happened in the next 2 hours is so vivid.

I was wearing black yoga pants and a Toledo Rockets hoodie - my hair was in a very messy ponytail.
I walked into the ER. They took one look at me and immediately had me surpass every other waiting patient.
They started asking me all those questions they feel necessary to ask when you come into the emergency room.
BP was normal
I stepped on the scale - 115lbs. Normal.
The doctor asked me when my last menstrual cycle was. I answered honestly and said it was so sporadic because of the birth control I had been taking for the last year and a half.

They wheeled me down to a room.
I was given a urine test, the doctor asked me questions in between the excruciate back pain (contractions).
He actually got frustrated with me because I was in so much pain that I couldn't answer his questions.

He left the room and it seemed like he was gone for a really long time.
He finally came back...
"You are pregnant. Do you have any idea how far along you could be?"

We were shocked. How could I be pregnant? I had been taking birth control since Tyler and I got married.

So many initial thoughts...
Ok, we can handle this. A baby is a good thing! We were planning on waiting a few years, but this is a ok. We may need a bigger apartment and we will have to start gathering all the things you need for a baby, but we can do it.
But something has to be seriously wrong because I'm in so much pain.
I must be miscarrying.

We were taken to ultrasound and the technician searched my stomach for what seemed like forever.
He said to us, "You really didn't know you were pregnant?" After asking him why he would say that he told us he was just a technician and the doctor would have to discuss the results with us.

After being sent back to our ER room, the doctor comes in and said the words I will never forget. Ever.
"Ok, you are definitely pregnant. In fact, you are nine months pregnant. You are delivering this baby today."

I cried.
I cried because I was shocked.
I cried because I was absolutely terrified.
I cried because our life was changing, literally, by the second.

We were rushed to labor and delivery.
They strapped a fetal heart monitor on and immediately found the heart beat.
We had no idea what condition he was going to be in, but he at the very least, was alive.
I was checked and was already 6cm dialated and they could feel hair.

What was next?
I was not prepared in the slightest to give birth to a human being.
Wasn't I supposed to take birthing classes?
Obviously, there was no time for that.

I needed time.
I needed time to call my parents.
Tyler and I needed time to process what the heck was about to happen.
I needed time to put my guilt and what-ifs aside.

I got an epidural (a decision I still don't regret, but didn't do the second time around).
I was finally without pain and I felt relaxed.

After the pain subsided, and I had to chance to focus on something other than pain, I almost instantly I felt like I went from being a married woman living a simple life in Southern Californa with my husband - to a person now responsible for a fragile life.
I was a mom and I immediately felt so connected to this little baby living inside me.

We were anxious, but excited.
We didn't know the sex of the baby, but I knew it was a boy. It was my first motherly instinct.

Landon Shae was going to be his name.
*side note, the first movie Tyler and I ever watched together was A Walk To Remember and the main character's name in the movie was Landon*
The name, Shae, means "gift" which we found appropriate considering the circumstance and the time of year.

We called our parents, which was an experience in itself.

I was checked every now and then and eventually it was time to push.

There were about seven doctors in the room, ready to receive a baby who may need some medical assistance considering there was no prenatal care.

I pushed for three hours. THREE! (and after having Toren without an epidural, I understand why I pushed for three hours with Landon and only fifteen minutes with Toren)

He would not come out.
I was exhausted.
They resorted to a vacuum as one last attempt to get the baby out.

It worked!
And out came a screaming baby boy.

He was immeditaly taken to the other side of the room, evaluated, and checked over for what seemed liked forever.

And finally, I was handed my sweet baby for the first time.

I've had people ask me how long it took for me to feel contected to Landon considering I didn't have 9 months to prepare for his arrival.
There is something so raw and real about my relationship with him and it started from the minute I knew his existence.
We were made for each other.

Fast forward a few days...

Word spread and I immideiatly become one of those people on the show everyone has seen.
"Its like that show I didn't know I was pregnant!" was (and usually still is) the first phrase out of everyone's mouth.

I immediately feel like I have to prove and justify myself.
I posted this picture of myself three days after Landon was born.

I wanted people to see that there was no lasting bump, because a bump was never there.

However, as the years have gone on, I've overcome the feeling that I need to justify or prove how Landon's life began.
I don't feel the guilt that would overcome my thoughts because the blessing of his life overpowers that.

I focus on the fact that he was born healthy regardless of no prenatal care.
I attribute his healthy entrance to the fact that I lived a healthy and active lifestyle even though I had no idea I was carrying life inside me.
I focus on the fact that he is a thriving, developing FIVE year old.

It's been five years of loving a little boy who surprised us, but who had perfect timing.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Pastor Appreciation Month

Have you ever realized there is a national holiday or a national month for almost anything?

National Calzone Day - Why have I never celebrated this??
Nation Deviled Egg Day
Nation Men Make Dinner Day - Thankfully this is observed every day in my household. Shout out to my                                                        master chef husband!
National Save Your Photos Month - Anyone else have serious anxiety when transferring pictures                                                                   from your phone to the computer?

The list could go on. And trust me, there are some really strange ones out there.

Our family doesn't really celebrate any obscure national holidays, but last week, someone told me that October is Pastor Appreciation month.

I've never heard of such a thing! Which is funny because, in my family, my father, my grandma, my uncle, and my brother are all pastors.
So when a friend told me October was Pastor Appreciation Month, I laughed a little bit.

I know there are stereotypes of what a Pastor's life is like:
They are constantly reading or studying the bible. As in, the open Bible is the center of their desk at all times, and they spend all their time in coffee shops prepping the perfect sermon. Pastors don't have set hours so they must not be very busy and they probably just hang out during the week (in coffee shops) and then bring their A-game on Sunday mornings. Go to work once a week? Who wouldn't want that job?!

Except that isn't what it's like. At least not for the one I'm married to.

He wakes up at 6am.
Exercises to get his blood flowing and then takes a cold shower.
He meditates and writes in a journal to his wife because that's one way he can show her love in the midst of his work.
He then responds to emails. I'm not talking one or two...if his inbox was an actual mailbox, it would be bursting through the seams.
He leaves for the day at 9:00am for his first round of meetings for the day. It could be with a mentor or a fellow Pastor or it could be with a newly divorced woman who now finds herself a single mom. It could even be with a student who is struggling with drugs. The options are endless.
It's afternoon now, which means he is off to the High School. A student body that has experienced more loss in a single years time than most people experience in a lifetime. Those kids trust and look up to him and look forward to his presence because he is a glimpse of hope. He shows them death and tragedy don't have the final say.
He comes home, probably forgets to each lunch and brainstorms how he is going to improve the life of his community. He prepares, memorizes, and storyboards his sermon. And prepares sermons for months to come because sometimes, there aren't enough hours in the week.
And then he visits people. Hospitals, homes, rehab centers, prisons. It varies on a day to day basis.
He drives home, probably listens to a podcast that furthers his knowledge.
He gets home, puts his things away, wrestles with two little boys who have been asking for him all day and finally, it's dinner time!
He cooks a delicious meal because cooking is his escape.
Sometimes he doesn't get to eat the meal he so graciously cooked because most church business meetings happen in the evening. So he kisses his kids goodbye and tells them he will see them in the morning. Sometimes, they ask, "Why does Papa have so many meetings? Why doesn't he read me bedtime stories anymore?" But they always know how much they are loved by their adored Papa because even when he misses bedtime, he always makes time for them. It's about quality, not quantity, but he still feels the guilt and pressure of his presence not being enough.
His meeting lasts for a good portion of the evening and when the day is finally over, he is done.
He is emotionally, phsycally, intelectually exhuasted.

It puts a strain on relationships, and on his marriage.
But he manages to always make sure his wife knows she is loved and he always tells her how he wouldn't be able to do any of this without her.
Sometimes, a game of dutch blitz is played to wind down for the evening, or sometimes he has a few ends to tie up.

Wedding preparations, funeral planning.

Recently, over the course of one week, he participated in two funerals for two people under the age of twenty-five. Both killed in drunk driving accidents.
Imagine sitting with those families and struggling to find the words to say. And yet, he always seems to find the right words that offer comfort and peace.
He truly knows how to honor a life, no matter how they were taken from this world.

This goes without talking about the extreme loss our community has experienced this last year and how he has entered into that. A broken, shattered, grieving community. And he stands firm in the middle.

A pastor's life is not an easy one. It's taxing and exhausting in more ways than one.
I can't even count how many times he comes home and says, "I think I might need to find a different job."
However, he will only entertain the idea and never carry it out because right now, this is what he has been called to do.

All of this being said, the next time you have dinner with your pastor or his family, ask him how he really is. Ask his wife how she is. You might be surprised at their answers.
Because it isn't about having the Bible open on your desk at all times and it certainly isn't about coffee shop meetings.
It's about bringing the Kindom of God to this place in a real way and entering into the lives of people searching for something more.

It's Pastor Appreciation month.
Take a look at a pastor's world from their perspective. And their families perspective.
They deserve to be celebrated and loved and appreciated.

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

The Farmhouse Project

When Tyler and I moved to Metamora four years ago, a barn sat in our backyard.

An old chicken coop that was probably built around eighty (plus) years ago.
Over time, the space was abandoned and so was everything in it.
You may be able to picture what the inside looked like after sitting untouched for so long, but let me give you a little insight...
There were old newspapers, some dated over one hundred years old, stacked, literally to the ceiling.
There was a dead, mummified cat laying on the ground. Seriously, I've never seen anything like it.
And dust...I've never seen so much dust in my life.

The church wanted to burn it down, and frankly, I wasn't opposed to the idea because what else would it be used for?

However, my ambitious husband had different plans.
He spent hours out there, clearing out the trash, dead animals, newspapers, and who knows what else. I never stepped foot in it because it was, seriously, that bad.
At first, he cleared out a tiny spot for us to sit.
Just enough space where we could open the door and watch the sunset over the farmland that surrounds us.

We spent most of our nights in our little cleared space. We talked about what the barn could be, what we wanted it to become, and dreamed of it becoming something more. 
Of course, Tyler was may more enthusiastic than I was.
I still saw an abandoned space that made me choke on dust when walking in the door, but he had a vision for the space.

Eventually, after a lot of work from mostly Tyler and some people from the community, the barn was finally cleared out and of course, we wanted to utilize this new open gathering space. 

What started out as just having a few friends over on a Friday night, turned into an official event we started calling Farmhouse Sabbath. 
At first, it consisted of 20+ people, gathering together.
It later evolved into food, drinks, and live music. 

More and more people from the community were attending every month and eventually, we started running out of space. 
So we renovated. 
And again, when I say, "we" I really mean Tyler and people from the community. 


Seriously, such a mess and so much work. 
I can't even begin to tell you how many hours were put into making the picture above, turn into this...



And what turned into twenty people, hanging out, turned into an event that happens once a month and  brings in four hundred people.
We rest and we party. 

To give you a better idea of what Farmhouse Sabbath is about, this video explains it's value...   

So where are we at now?
This event, this space, has become such a huge part of the community. 
It's a place of not only resting and partying, but its a space where vulnerable conversations happen. It's a place where people gather to dream about what this community could be. 

Which brings me to the point of this entire post. 
This spring, something huge is happening. 

This barn is about to become a space that has the potential to be the center of our community. 

This project is something we are passionate about. 
It's something our community needs. 
But, it can't happen without help.
Which goes along with the idea of this space being communal. This building isn't being built to benefit our family, or our's being built for the Evergreen and surrounding areas. 
This place is going to thrive because of it, but it has to be a joint effort.

I'ts obvious that in order for this to happen, this project has to be financially supported. 
If you are in a position where you are able to give, please visit THIS ONLINE GIVING SITE 

This community is about to do big things. 
I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. 

Thursday, September 14, 2017


I've been sitting with this thought in my head for almost a month now.
I literally think it every single day:

I get to do so many random things that I love doing.
I get to coach a pom pom team, I'm a cheerleading coach, I've started up a photography business, I get to stay at home with my boys?!

And not only that, I get to do so many other things that I find such value in...
Taking Landon to school and picking him up everyday.
I get to take Toren to story time every Wednesday.
I can have lunch dates with friends during the week.

This is a life that I could have only dreamed I would live.

I am happy.

Genuinely happy.

I might be a little exhausted. I get frustrated plenty. Somedays I feel burnt out.
But daily, I feel so lucky.

However, it has taken me four solid years to feel fulfilled.
Which may seem selfish, but I'm sure other stay at home moms can relate.
So hear me out.

This is life:
Baby wakes up in the middle of the night. Sometimes one time. Sometimes six times.
He wakes up for the day at 7:00am, but you are no where near ready to be awake after only a few hours of broken sleep.
Your toddler wakes up around 7:30 and immediately demands breakfast.
You feed them both. And you clean up for the first time that day, of about thirty seven times.
It's play time!
Except play time means screaming because the baby destroyed the toddlers castle he had been building. Or the toddler takes the dinosaur the baby had been chewing on for five minutes. This goes back and forth until a snack is needed.
And I say, "needed" because, children need forty seven snacks a day. Seriously! So many snacks! Why do they need so many snacks?! I could write an entire post of my frustration with how my children think they need snacks every thirty minutes...and I really mean thirty seconds.
Snacks over. Clean up. Again.
If you are feeling adventurous, you take them to the grocery store, or to the park. They usually do great, but getting in and out of the car takes an extra five minutes because, well, carseats. So many buckles. You're exhausted before you get to your destination just from buckling them up.
You get home, unload children, and its lunch time. More food.
Clean up!
Nap time!!! Praise the Lord for nap time. Y'all who's kids don't do you survive? I couldn't live your life.
But nap time means you are probably cleaning up again or taking care of other things that are essential for maintaining a household. (If we are being honest, nap time means a few minutes of uninterrupted Facebook scrolling or laying on the couch without being climbed on, licked, jumped on).
Have I mentioned being touched out? Seriously, somedays, I'm touched out by 9am.
Nap time is over.
Snack time! *insert eye roll*
Try to survive without loosing your mind until dinner.
Dinner means more clean up.
Play time. More crying because sharing is a difficult concept.
Bath time? Tsunami time? Its the same thing...
Story time. Bed time. My favorite time.

Every. Single. Day.

Now, I totally get there are so many moms who would kill for this.
But as a stay at home mom, there was a time where I would kill to have a job that got me out of the house every day.

Staying at home with young children can be hard. Its frustrating at times. And the biggest thing for's lonely.
It's hard not having adult interaction for most of the day.

But just about the time I start feeling frustrated...and by frustrated I mean sometimes I feel like I'm absolutely going to loose my mind,  a little boy randomly tells me that he loves me. Or the littlest one randomly sings Happy Birthday to me, even though its not even my birthday. And I get pictures like this handed to me with the words, "I'm sorry if you are feeling frustrated, Mama. I drew you this picture to make you feel better. It's a picture of us at the fair walking to a Farris Wheel. Do you feel happy now?"

Even on the exhausting days, I have to remind myself how lucky I am that I don't have to miss a second of their little lives. 

Back to my original point, I get to raise my children along with doing so many things I love and sometimes, it takes an exhausting, frustrating day to remind me just how blessed I am.

It took me four years to finally feel like this. 
I was bitter so often. 

I'm here to tell you, if you are a stay at home mom or a working mom, find value in yourself again.

You are more than just a mom.
You are so much more than that!
Let that person out who is fighting to find yourself again.
Do the things you love doing and do them for you. 
You owe it to yourself.
You owe it to your children and spouse. 
It's worth it! And so are you...

Monday, September 4, 2017

Becoming A Viking

It's Friday Night (and Saturday morning) football season which means the Kleebergers spend most of their time at Evergreen High School, or on school busses that take us to away games. And when you live in the middle-of-nowhere, you have to drive an hour or so to another middle-of-nowhere place for football games.


With Tyler coaching football and me being the cheer coach, Friday nights get a little tricky. Luckily, we have great friends, family, and our favorite babysitter, Sydney to step up and help out whenever they can. Shout out to those people - you are great.

Last Friday, I asked Landon if he was interested in going to an away game with me. Of course he agreed and I'm positive the only reason was because he knew he was going to get to ride the school bus. Thats a pretty big deal to a four year old!
Toren, had a great time staying at home with Sydney, watching The Grinch, and going to bed at his normal bedtime, which is 7:30. Now that I think about it, I'm a little bit jealous of his wild Friday night.

Landon couldn't wait to go. Not only was he riding the school bus, but he was getting to hang out with "his cheerleaders." Also, shout out to my girls for loving on my boys! Y'all are awesome with the two crazy children who often interrupt your practices.

As anticipated, he loved riding on the bus.

At least for the first ten minutes before he fell asleep on my lap.

I was left to reminisce on my high school years and the ridiculous amount of hours I spent riding a bus to away football games, track meets, band competitions, parades, spring trips, etc.
As I was sitting there, listening in on the chaos that is high school students, a few thoughts popped into my head.

1. I don't know if WCHS still does this, but we always road couch busses. Always. No matter where we were going. Why was I not more thankful for that?! Seriously. Its so much better than a school bus. Thanks, band boosters. Y'all were (and probably still are) awesome.

2. How did we ever survive without smart phones? What did we do that whole time?! I remember when I thought I was so cool because my parents bought me an iPod shuffle so I could listen to music on the way to wherever I was going.  So what did we do on those long rides? Oh yeah...actually engaged and interacted with each other and did ridiculous things like slide goldfish that we would win at fairs or parades, up and down the aisle.
I didn't even have texting on my phone until my senior year of high school.
These kids make me feel so old. And now I'm saying things like, "these kids."

3. My biggest realization was someday, Landon and Toren are going to be in high school.  If I could keep them four and two, I totally would. Ok, maybe I would let Toren turn three because lets be real, two year olds are ridiculous most of the time. But for real, the thought of them being in high school gives me a little hint of anxiety.

Luckily, before I got too lost in my thoughts of my two babies growing up, we arrived. 

It only took about three minutes into the first quarter before Landon totally lost interest in the game and became completely inthralled with his dinosaurs and some pinecones that he gathered on our walk to the bleachers. 

Its funny...I have people ask me all the time if our boys are going to play football when they are older. I guess they assume since their dad was a rock star quarterback in high school and in college and now a high school coach, that the boys will just follow in his footsteps. 
I highly doubt (although could be wrong) Landon will ever play football. He is the least aggressive, non competitive child I think I've ever met. 
Toren is so obsessed with music and drumming, I'm hoping that carries throughout his life and he doesn't even know there is a sport called football.
I guess my hope is that they both love dinosaurs and music way more than they ever love football. 
Their brains are too precious and I would need anxiety medication if I have to sit through football games with them actually on the field.

Back to the game...

The Vikings haven't won since the beginning of their 2015 season. 
Last year was rough. Really, really rough. 
This year is much different and there has been an obvious switch. Not only with the football team, but the overall vibe of the Viking community. 

Winning was a HUGE deal. They totally earned this win.

I guess as my boys grow up, if they have to grow up, I want them growing up a community like Evergreen. 
A community that comes together, which we have seen first hand - especially in loosing two influential people in the same year. 

I don't know how much school spirit I actually had when I was in high school, but I can say that I'm so proud of be a Viking and my heart swells with love for this place.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

It been a minute...

Seriously, its been a long time since I have even visited my blog page. There isn't one specific reason I stopped blogging, but I can think of a few.

1. Life happens and it can be crazy and messy and busy and all of the above at the exact same time.

2. When Toren was just learning to pull himself and cruse around furniture, he knocked my computer off the table which left me without a computer for quite some time.
He has also shattered THREE iPhone screens in the last two years. Don't let him touch your stuff.

3. In the past, I've felt like my posts had to have some sort of "moral of the story" and I've recently come to the realization - that isn't realistic. There isn't always a conclusion and its ok to not always have a resolution.

4. Does what I say or think actually matter? In the grand scheme of things, it probably doesn't, but thats ok too! Nobody is forcing you against your will to read.

Ive decided to start blogging again for my sake. I think a space where I can be real and vulnerable, is important for my emotional health...even if vulnerability is terrifying for an introvert like myself.
I probably don't have a ton of helpful insight, but I'll at least post cute pictures of my children every once in awhile and everyone can benefit from that! Right?

My goal is to have a new post once a week. If I'm feeling real good, maybe more than once, but I'm not going to get ahead of myself. I'm all about realistic goals and expectations.

I know I've change a lot in the last year and a half.
I've changed, my marriage has changed, my outlook on life and what I think it means to be a human has definitely changed and I want to have a place to sort thoughts and maybe encourage someone along the way.

So, if you want to join me on this journey, read, share, comment, engage! I would love to interact with y'all more.
And if you haven't already, check out my Meet The Blogger page! There is a little bit of an update on me and our family there. And of course, cute pictures of Landon and Toren.