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Help me, Lord, Mr. T gave up his morning nap. He’s coming up to his 18 month birthday and last week. I don’t remember how long the other two kids napped in the morning, but I think he lasted the longest. That was such a blessing for the beginning of our home school routine. Now…ugh! I have not figured out how to do it. It just feels like a three ring circus, but everyone is performing different routines at the same time. I’ve go the 3 year-old, my middle man who is doing well, but needs entertained. Then my little brute of a baby wandering around. Meanwhile, this little almost 6-year-old girl is trying to learn to read. Interruption after fit after head-bonk resulting in wailing after running laps…it’s a hot mess here. And this week, anxiety has started the second I wake up (it has lingered from Postpartum hormones). Oh, hello PMS. I’m not trying to complain, this is just reality and I’m struggling. So, that’s all. We’re gonna get through it and she will learn to read. I’m not worried. Just stressed by all the...
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So, Goal-setting has always been my thing… well, since I learned to write. If I could make a list for something, I did. I am one of those people who adds items to my list I forgot just so I can check them off. There’s a problem though – my record. I am probably between 40-50% successful when it comes to actually accomplishing my goals, especially my new year’s goals. Part of the problem: I have lists all over the place and half of them get lost or are in inconvenient places…like the bottom of my pocketbook. The real problem is: I’m not realistic. I’ve recently learned that I am not a perfectionist in the sense that I thought I was. I’m a visionary – I have lots of ideas and I lack the determination, discipline and more than anything TIME to make those ideas happen. I also think that every idea I have should become a reality. Can you say “unrealistic.” I also think that every idea should be orchestrated with perfection. Again, say it with me now “unrealistic.” And, sorry for any disappointment butttT…unfortunately this is not a post that is going to solve this problem. Check back in about 20 years and maybe by then, I’ll have something for you. Ha! No really, I am making a little progress. Here are a few things I’m trying out this year that so far has relieved my twisted visionary perfectionist impulses: 1. I let go of ideas that will not work where I am at or I put them away for later in life. And by let go...

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Hey, So this is weird… but it has to be done. I want you to remember something. As I sit here at my desk looking through images of young ones who pose in front of my lens. I can tell the ones who suffer under the weight of the pressure that is forced upon them. Yes, that’s right, I said “suffer.” Yes, they are citizens of the USofA, where freedom rings, where most are never wanting for physical sustenance and goodness. But somehow, they are slaves. It’s those shifting eyes and fingernails bitten down until they bleed. It’s the perfectly arranged outfits and accessories. It’s the little nick picky comments I here about weight and hair and a funny smile or slouchy shoulders. It’s the anxiety attacks over a test grade. It is the media, peers or even loved ones. But it should NEVER be mothers. I want you to remember to give your kids the freedom to fail, the license to let you down. I want you to remember that your dreams aren’t theirs and shouldn’t be. The only dying wish that truly should be the highest priority is the desire of your children to know God, follow Jesus with all their hearts and surrender their entire beings to allow him to be in them. The desire to have confidence that the spirit of God dwells in them and is guiding their hearts (not yours) for what steps to take in their lives. Those steps may not lead to good grades, college scholarships, a nuclear family, a big house and a good job. In fact, I hope those...

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Today I asked God “why” and I wasn’t scared of making him angry. I am not angry even, I’m just confused. My heart dropped when I got a text today from my best friend that despite excitement about planning to share good news with the world that they had a healthy pregnancy, they found out today that the baby had died 3 weeks ago. Now, she has to go have a procedure done to give birth to their now spiritless precious 3rd child. They have lost 3 children. I can not even comprehend. First they struggled with infertility and when they finally, got pregnant, lost their first child. Then, there was Owen. His little heart could not survive outside of the womb. He fought for 3 weeks. I had the privilege of meeting him in the Cleveland Clinic. And now this. It felt like a blow to me – a gut shot. I don’t even know how they could be coping right now. It is almost paralyzing me. I can not move past it. But there – those words – “moving past it.” Nicole never will. She’ll grow and mourn in a new way. But the loss will be forever felt in her heart until she is reunited with her children. I am 500 miles away. I can go about my day unscathed. I can push it out of my head as the days go on…but I have to remember that Nicole cannot. The pain was straight to her heart. While I was punched, she was stabbed. But she is a fighter – the apple didn’t fall far. Please...

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I have recently realized that I thrive in a routine, but I stink at consistency. I have always struggled with being consistent.I can probably count on my hand the number of things I have semi-succeeded in habitually practicing. I play the violin, and when I was in middle and high school, I had the opportunity to be in two amazing symphonies: the Youngstown Youth Symphony Orchestra and the Boardman High School Orchestra – the latter being the largest high school orchestra in the country that consistently wins the national championship. My teachers always told me I had natural talent, the perfect fingers and a musical ear, but I never practiced enough. I should have been a great proficient (as Lady Catherine de Bourgh says)! The lack of practice kept me from strengthening and training the muscles in my hands and arms and so when audition time came, I choked. My nerves beat my habits cuz the habits were never formed. Back to the present – I would really like to develop better habits, and I think my husband and I are finally realizing we have control over this… we can choose to be consistent in our practices. He had an epiphany a couple days ago that maybe he ought to start seeing himself as an adult. It’s funny, I’ve always thought he thought he was an adult, but he said that he doesn’t really view himself any differently than he did when he was 17. He said something like from the time he turned 17,  he tried to act 25 and then when he passed 25, he didn’t know...