passing on Motherhood.

I’ve always loved my mom. It could be that hindsight is 20/20, but I don’t remember my teenage years being awful. My mom and I had our spats, but on the whole I think we got along fairly well. Even in college – halfway across the country – we’d have our tiffs, but at the end of the day I always knew she loved me and was there for me, no matter what.

The biggest thing we disagreed on was boys. I see now that she knew far better than I did which ones were actually good and which ones were just pretending, but in the midst of it I was far too stubborn to admit that she might be right. Despite the boys that came and went – and the man who came and stayed – and despite the spats over chores, allowance, jobs and whatever else, my mom and I have remained close. I’m closer to my mom than I am to almost anyone else, and not just because she’s my mom and the bible tells me to honor her. I’m close to her because I respect her, I value her opinions and I look up to her. Continue reading

wives tales and Guesses.

Almost immediately after you tell people you are pregnant the next question is, “Are you going to find out?” One of my co-workers asked me, “Are you going to find out what you are?” to which I quickly answered, “I’m a girl.” But yes, we are going to find out the gender in a few short weeks (eek!). I’m 18 weeks tomorrow, so before the big reveal goes down (we’re finding out the gender but keeping the name to ourselves until birth), I figured I’d have a little fun. For your enjoyment – and let’s be honest, mine too – let us evaluate some of the old wives tales about what we’re having. Leave your guesses in the comments!

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beyond the picket Fence.

A year and a half ago, I was that girl. I was the girl who sat on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram (especially Instagram) and stared at my friends’ perfect lives, their clean houses, their doting husbands, their date nights, their adorable kids. You named it, I pined over it. I wanted what they had.

The problem – as we all know – with social media is that it allows us, if we so choose, to paint our lives as perfect or pretty gosh darn close. I can snap a picture of a date night, but what I’m leaving out is the giant sob-fest that happened mere minutes before we left the house. Do I sit in the bathroom crying – over something silly, mind you – and think, gee, I should snap a selfie right now and slap that bad boy up on InstagramNo, I don’t think that. Such a thing would be preposterous. I didn’t snap a date night picture until my make-up was re-done and my eyes were unpuffed and I was ready to cuddle up to my darling husband. But chances are that if you follow me on Instagram, you may have seen that picture and thought ‘oh, look, a cute date night with her husband. I want that.’ Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t – but that’s exactly what I would have thought if I’d only seen the picture. Continue reading

making me a Baby.

I’ve decided that in more ways than I originally thought, pregnancy makes me quite like the baby I’m growing. In a way it is pretty laughable and in other ways I think it is preparing me for motherhood – or at least I hope it is! Case and points (feel free to add your own in the comments!):

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things that make me Cry.

You know those stories that people post on twitter, Facebook or Instagram about what is making their child/toddler cry? You know how ridiculous they can be? Guess what – pregnant women are the same way. For your enjoyment (and my own, because I have to laugh too!), here’s a list of some of the many things that have made me cry thus far in the pregnancy. Enjoy. And laugh. Some of them make sense, others are just ridiculous. Even in the moment I can admit the ridiculousness of the tears and yet they fall anyway, so after the tears clear the laughter comes.

Wanting to wear pants, though none of them fit.

Dear John, especially the scene with John and his dad in the hospital. Continue reading

the little Things.

I have no idea how often I say, “it really is the little things” but I’d imagine the number is pretty high. And yet I often forget to do or give those little things to or for others.

Last Sunday night I went grocery shopping with Anthony. Standing at ‘the pill wall’ as I call it, we were debating about which vitamin C pills to get since I need to be on them while I’m pregnant. At last we picked a brand and began to walk away. A sweet lady with one of the largest stacks of coupons I’d ever seen asked us which brand we finally picked. We told her and she promptly pulled out a dollar-off coupon and gave it to us. We said thank you and turned the corner to the next aisle. The rest of our time at the store I couldn’t get over how nice that was. I don’t take the time to clip coupons, but that lady watched us and offered us her coupon. Sure, it was only a dollar, but the gesture meant so much to me because it isn’t all that often that people actually talk to each other at the grocery store, let alone share coupons. Continue reading

ode to Thérèse.

It seemed fitting that my 500th post (what?!?!) should be about St. Thérèse, and even more fitting that it should fall on her feast day. First off – 500 posts? Are you kidding me? When I started this blog three and a half year ago (again – what?!), I had no idea that (1) I’d be writing for this long and (2) that I’d write 500 posts. I’m in awe, but God is good and I fully believe He is still working here, so I’ll keep writing.

Second off – St. Thérèse, my homegirl, my holy BFF. I have no idea where I’d be without her. Last year I prayed a novena to her that ended on her feast day. My intention for that novena – as some of you may know – was whether or not I was called to marry Anthony. We’d been dating for five-ish months at that point, but I knew it was serious. Unlike all the other times I’d said a relationship was different, this one really was – it was holier and filled with more mutual-respect than any other relationship I’d been in. Continue reading