“Are we CRAZY?!”

Well, that depends on who you ask. Most people would probably say yes.

But, seriously, why in the world would we downsize and move our family of five from the house of our dreams into a tiny, fixer upper, trailer? Honestly, this post would probably be best if it started off with a little back story…

Juston and I were raised in that typical one-stop-light-everyone-knows-your-grandpa rural town. And we just couldn’t wait to leave it in the dust.

As young adults, we always dreamed of creating a life that was the opposite of what we had growing up: the suburbia life.

You know…

the one with houses all nicely in a row,

neighbors waving as they mow the lawn,

delivery cars carting in dinner for the hurried parents,

kids playing basketball in the street,

impromptu BBQ parties on the weekends…

that life.

We dreamed of it. We longed for it.

Somehow it just never seemed attainable, especially when I decided to homeschool. Moving from a rural (cheaper) area to this suburbian utopia just didn’t seem feasible on one income. But, by the Grace of God, after living ten years in that small town together, we did it.

We picked up our family and moved ourselves into that exact dream scenario. Our lives now look exactly like what we pictured. A gorgeous home filled with happy and healthy children. Neighbors who we trust & even like a little (; And food, oh the food. I’m almost positive DoorDash was sent straight from God himself.

Yet, two years in and suddenly without cause or reason, something seems… off.

In the beginning, I chalked it up to my ungrateful nature. Let’s face it, as humans, we are always searching for the next best thing. I think it’s our biggest flaw as a society. Nothing ever seems quite good enough. So, trying to be a less ungrateful person, I hushed those feelings and instead tried to soak in everything we had around us.

It worked. We updated rooms, painted walls, even grew a garden (it may only be a five gallon bucket garden, but a garden none-the-less), the kids started school — after years of homeschooling and a spiraling pandemic–, things looked to be going well. Picture perfect, almost.

Then, out of the blue, Juston and I both kept slipping in conversations about missing what we had…

Space.

Freedom.

Land.

Home.

Although, we kept the conversations subtle because we were sure the other wasn’t on the same page. This is crazy, right?! And slowly we started talking about the reality of these things. Suddenly, all that ungratefulness I thought I had came rushing up and got me thinking, maybe it couldn’t simply be chalked up to being unappreciative.

It wasn’t just me. We both felt this same nudge.

For the next few nights, I would lay in bed wondering are we crazy?! We have finally achieved every goal we set for ourselves as young-in-love-daydreamers. Nothing was “wrong.” There was no straw that broke the camel’s back, sending us hurrying back to the life we so eagerly left behind.

What is this?

This idea. This though. This voice that was echoing in not only my mind, but my husbands too. Where is it coming from? It’s almost like this wasn’t even ours…

Then, it hit me. Maybe it’s not.

I don’t remember where I heard it, or maybe even read it, but I remember learning that sometimes God speaks to us through ideas and thoughts that were not even on our radar. It’s these out of the blue, coming from left field ideas He places in our hearts and slowly they make their way to our minds and somehow find peace in our souls.

That’s the only way I can explain this. It makes no sense on paper (and it definitely makes no sense when my awkward self tries to form audible, real-life conversations about it. I’m pretty convinced my brain doesn’t work in public) but it feels right. And that’s all we’ve got to go off of.

With eager eyes, we started searching for land, which oddly enough led us to a piece of property right next to Juston’s step-father, Allen’s, house.

40 acres.

Winding driveway.

And cute little log cabin.

But, it wasn’t it.

We walked around in awe of the land and the house that was literally built by the owner’s hands. And as much as we admired the place, we just didn’t feel… it.

Leaving down the driveway, we bounced back different ideas. Things we liked, stuff we didn’t. Then before we knew it, our car went around a bend and seemed to automatically stop right at the spot that left Juston’s grandparent’s property right in front of us.

Unfortunately, in true 2021 fashion, this year was a total wreck for our family. We lost Juston’s mother and his grandparents within months of each other. So, driving near the home Juston grew up in and stopping in front of his grandparent’s house just hit us with a wave of emotions.

“Do you think Allen would want to ever sell that?” I whispered, looking at the pond from the road.

Reaching for his phone, “All we can do is ask,” and instantly, there were jitters.

The next week, Juston and I found ourselves walking around the property with kids running around, once again, daydreaming. Sheds that can be moved. Renovations that can be made. And a home that can be built.

Unexplainable excitement happened that day, just two minutes down the road from the house we spent our first ten years as a family in. Our first home. The one we so eagerly left in the rear view mirror.

That night I laid in bed thinking of that house and life. Are we crazy?! If this is where we are ending up, why didn’t we just stay in our first home. The home my Popa built, on my Popa’s land, with my Popa’s memories engrained into every inch of that place. Why? I gave all that up for this dream and now I’m just turning around and chasing after another. Why?

It makes no sense.

But, I guess that’s the point of faith. Knowing that I believe in a God that can see a future I can’t even imagine. A God that will put me in the right place at the right time for the right moment. It all comes down to the simple fact that He knows more than I do.

So with a leap and a prayer, we are going!

Going back home.

Going into a major downsized fixer upper.

And then diving head first into building a house, homeschooling three kids, and maybe even raising a few chickens.

Pray for me, y’all.

The post Why We Downsized from a 3,000 sq/ft House to a Fixer Upper Trailer appeared first on A Bit of Simplicity.

To the Person who has to Earn Everyone’s Love,

It’s hard, isn’t it?

You spend all your time making choices, choosing your words, and over thinking your actions just so that you can appease them. Just so that maybe, just maybe, they will

approve of you,

see your worth,

want you.

But, they don’t.

No matter how hard you try, how much you want, you can’t make them love you. And, the sad part is you sit back and watch them give it so freely to the others around you. People who don’t have to try.

The same people they come to and complain to you about, ask you for advice, and ironically seek your guidance for.

People who don’t have to work for their love. People who can just be themselves, honestly and wholly. People who can completely and brokenly be who they are and never have to worry about earning their love from them.

People who aren’t you.

No, that isn’t you.

You are the one who analyzes everything you say, everything you do. You bite your tongue, put on a smile, open your arms. You want nothing more from them that their love. You don’t want to be taken care of. You don’t want them for what they can offer you. You don’t ask for anything more. All you want is simply them.

But, you don’t get it.

Maybe it’s because you do try too hard.

Maybe it’s because you can’t be yourself in fear of losing what little you hold onto.

Maybe it’s because you are not as worthy as you thought.

The truth is, I don’t know why they won’t love you.

Because, I am you.

It could be that we expect too much out of them. We expect them to love us, when that’s not how love works. Maybe we’ve just spent our lives with our expectations a little too high. Striving for a comfort we can’t force to happen.

I wish I could tell you that one day you will realize you had their love all along. I wish I could say that they will come around. I wish I could offer you more than just these words.

But I can’t.

All I know, is that your worth is not based off of their affection for you. There are people out there who love you, broken and whole, worthy or not. Maybe you haven’t found them yet; but, they are there.

And those are the people who deserve what you have.

The post To the Person who has to Earn Everyone’s Love appeared first on A Bit of Simplicity.

Is it just me, or do you realize how evolution seems to just be some revolving door we are stuck in?

We think things evolve and change; but, really, they are just an adaptation of things of the past.

Take fashion for example. It’s a total revolving door.

Those “mom jeans” that are now all the rage … I would have died if I was caught in a pair of those in high school. But, now, because Kylie Jenner can pull them off after one baby and 35 plastic surgeries – it’s the new must.

You just wait for it, plaid skirts are going to make a come-back. That total Clueless style that we all tried to achieve as teenagers – it’ll be back! And, don’t forget me when it does. I’d like to take some credit for predicting the future (; 

So, what about motherhood? What about women?

What is the evolution of women?

Well, it’s easy really. Just think about it.

Think back to those good ol’ shows Leave it to Beaver or Andy Griffith – what did motherhood look like then?

Polished Mothers.

Doting Wife.

Staying home all day to tend to everyone else’s needs.

It was very uncommon to find a working mother. Or, at least, you didn’t see them being put on display.

And, you definitely did not see a mom in the street with their “work-out” clothes on (even though working out is the last thing those yoga pants have seen).

Women were the staple that kept the house running. The glue that kept everyone intact.

The household objects that had some occasional use. Or, so they began to feel like.

And that’s when an evolution took place.

Women began standing up for themselves and fighting for the right to work, to an education, and to do more than clean a house.

It was a long hard road, but they won. Look at women now.

Working. Not just working but running billion dollar corporations.

Husbands who are willing to pick up the slack and help out around the house.

Societal views that have completely shifted from valuing homelife over individual achievements.

Women literally run the world.

But, are we satisfied?

Think about that for a moment.

Is a working mother satisfied? Does she feel complete satisfaction when she lays down her head at night and realizes that she forgot to ask her kid how their day was after she picked them up from daycare?

Is a CEO of an expansive corporation truly okay with the fact that she is now 45 and has no children to call her own? Does she feel satisfaction knowing that she will grow old with an extensive retirement account but no family to share it with?

Is that socioeconomic status really as satisfying as we once thought?

No. I don’t really think they are.

And, that’s where I see a shift in change again.

We are in the midst of another evolution.

Women are now fighting for validation in staying at home with their children.

They are fighting to earn the right to call raising a family their job.

And, they are longing for acceptance in wanting these things.

We are crossing a fence, a thin border, where people do not understand why a woman needs to be at home – not earning any income, not helping her husband financially. Why would women choose to do this?

It just seems selfish.

…to most.

Then, we have those who understand the desire and need to be home. Those who can see the rising cost of daycare, the children quickly growing, and realize the importance, to them, of being there for their family.

But, we are caught in this state of limbo. There are those who want to stay home and those who don’t see the advantage of staying home.

And, instead of supporting each other for their own decision, we are battling the other to prove one more valid than the next.

Today, women are made to feel guilty to want to stay home.

They are made to feel lazy, burdening, and financially draining.

If a woman chooses to stay home, many times, she also chooses to “work-from-home” (as best she can – because we all know to stay at home with your children 24/7 is not a full-time job…*insert eye roll*). She takes in other kids to watch or tries to find one of those legitimate “earning a full-time income while staying at home” Pinterest jobs.

But, it never works out.

Why?

Because then they quickly become overwhelmed and stressed out.

Overwhelmed and stressed out from staying at home? No.

Overwhelmed and stressed out because they do not feel like they are earning their keep for staying at home.

Earning their keep from their husbands, family, friends, and society as a whole.

Because let’s be honest, today’s world does not view it as “enough” to just stay at home with your kids.

And, it’s sad, because for many moms that’s all they want in life.

But, please, do not get this mixed up.

It’s not wanting to stay home and be lazy.

It’s not wanting to stay home and sit in your PJs all day watching Ellen (although, that is a great perk…)

It’s not wanting to avoid “getting a job.”

It’s wanting to avoid the harsh reality. The reality that will never change no matter the evolution of time –

Our babies will not be our babies forever.

Ask any mom today, who has grown children, if they could go back and change one thing what would it be?

I guarantee 90% of those moms would wish to go back and love on their babies a little longer, to cherish their childhood a little longer, to just be with them a little longer.

And, that’s what this group of mothers realize.

Our children are going to grow up – heck, they are already growing up! Why wish for the time back when you can have it right now?

Why fight for something that no one else sees as valuable?

Why put yourself in the constant judgeful eyes of others?

Why feel the crushing weight of guilt every day?

Because they are worth it.

20 years from now, I might look back and think,

“I wish I would’ve started my career sooner.” 

“I wish I would’ve made more effort with my friends.”

“I wish I would’ve put myself first.”

But, you know what?

I won’t wish for putting my family first.

I won’t wish for things left undone with my children.

I won’t wish for stepping out of the norm and going against the current.

Because I will have done all that.

100 years ago, women were fighting for equal rights in the workplace. Women were fighting for the right to be valued as more than “just a mother.”

Today, women are fighting for the right to stay at home. Women are fighting to find the same value found in working full-time as being “just a mother.”

I am in no way taking away everything those women fought so hard to achieve. They put their entire heart, blood, and tears to be treated equally. But, I don’t think they also wanted women to be undervalued in choosing their family instead.

I think they wanted to give us the option to choose both. Not an ultimatum of one over the other.

Will we ever be satisfied in the next round of this evolution? I don’t know.

If the revolving door teaches us anything, I would say no. We will always want what we don’t have.

However, is it impossible for us to walk off of this merry-go-round and stand on a solid foundation of equality? Both for the working mom and the stay-at-home mom?

I think so.

I hope so.

Because, when our world can find value in each other – not because of what we choose to do or not to do, but because of what we are able to give back to society (through achievements, no matter if they are in the office or in the home) that is when true equality will begin.

The post Fighting the Evolution of Women appeared first on A Bit of Simplicity.

“Rylee’s mom, right? I hardly ever see you.”

Jab, right. in. the. heart.

Last week, my oldest daughter had “parent’s week” at her dance studio. For those not so familiar with being a Dance Mom, like me, that’s when the parents come and watch all that the children have learned up to this point.

So far this year, this has been the second parent’s week I’ve attended. During this observation, just like the last time, the dance teacher had to throw that in there when she was handing out information packets- right in front of all the other parents. Just like last time. 

And, just like at the Christmas recital when she mistook me for a high school helper. She laughed it off saying that she “never sees me” & frankly doesn’t know who I am.

As if I already don’t beat myself enough about not being able to spread myself out wide enough to encompass all my kids, all at once.

The same thing happens at my son’s games.

Luckily, for my son’s sports, my husband is able to be the coach for all his activities.

So, I don’t have to attend every practice, because he’s there. 

I don’t have to keep up with what field, what time, and what uniform; because he does. 

Yet, when he happens to be late or I need to run up to the field, everyone looks at me like I am supposed to know what’s going on. Somehow I get asked fifty-million questions that my husband would effortlessly know the answer to; but, in that moment, I feel like they are speaking jibberish.

Then, I get the look of, “Oh yeah, that’s right. She’s never here.”

Cue #MomFail

Just so you understand, I am not purposely trying to be the unmistakable, uninvolved mom.

Thankfully, we have a wonderful helper a few days during the week, who can run my daughter up to her dance classes so I don’t have to pack up the other two kids for a 10 minute ride up the road, a 10 minute ride back, a 10 minute unloading the car ordeal, a 10 minute calm before another 10 minute pack up, for a 10 minute ride back up there… and you get where I am going.

Now, don’t bite my head off, I know what you are thinking.

She could just stay up there the whole time. 

Yes, you are right. But here is my problem:

Have you ever tried to preoccupy a 2-year-old and a 5-year-old in a dance studio or car for an hour and a half?!

It’s endless questions, ear-piercing cries, and a never-ending soundtrack to Moana.

Can you say, “Frazzled Mom” – because, that’s exactly what I turn into after just 10 minutes of that. Let’s imagine an hour and a half, twice a week.

No, thanks.

And, then, even when I do go…

I still don’t know what’s going on.

It’s like I go deaf when people are talking to me about important stuff. What a great personality trait to have, you must be thinking…

I just nod and smile, and smile and nod a little bit more while all the information is going in one ear and out the other. Then, someone comes to me to ask me something, or the next class happens, and I’ve completely forgotten what it was I was supposed to remember.

Then, I end up leaning over asking the other moms what the heck is going on.

During games, it takes me an entire inning to figure out where my son is on the field; and then when I do, they are running back to the dugout.

I swear I’m just not made for these things.

Sports Mom.

Dance Mom.

Heck, Super Mom.

They just aren’t me.

And… Cue the mom guilt, the internal shamming, and the complete inadequacy as a mom.

Yet, something hit me today.

As I was finishing up homeschooling, cleaning, doing laundry, and putting the baby down for her second attempt of a nap- in the midst of my hourly “you’re really not that great at this mom-thing” moment- it hit me.

I can’t be the only one. 

As bad as that “I never see you” hurt, as bad as I feel when my son tells me that all I do is “talk” at his game, as much as I feel like I fail- I can’t be the only one.

As moms, we seem to stretch ourselves so thin. And, we are so sensitive to what other people (other moms) think of us, that we forget we are all battling in some area or another.

Should I feel ashamed that I have help during my daughter’s classes? No, but I do.

Should I feel uninvolved because my husband is able to pick-up where I can’t? No, but I do.

And, I’m sure you do too. Maybe not for those exact reasons. But, there might be something that you feel like you’re not doing your best at as a mom.

When, in reality,

it’s not even that big of a deal.

Honestly, no one is probably even giving it half as much thought as you are.

We need to remember that our kids need us healthy, physically and mentally. And, if we are constantly beating down on ourselves. There is no way we are able to give them the positive role model they need.

I know it’s true for me.

So, if you can get help during the week: take it. 

If your husband is able to take something off your plate: let him. 

If your kid is doing too much, and you have to ask them to cut back a little: do it. 

Don’t feel bad about putting your sanity first, sometimes. I know we won’t do it all the time. But, we need to at least occasionally think about ourselves.

Right?!

Let me know, I’m not the only one who feels this way! Comment below with something you’ve been, or have, struggled with as a parent. Something that seemed monumental to you; but, when you really thought about it, realized it really wasn’t.

We tend to over think as mothers and parents. And, sometimes, we need the encouragement of others to tell us, it’s okay! You’re doing your best and that’s all that matters!!

Comment below and let’s encourage each other!

Also, don’t forget to sign-up to become part of my Members-only email list! I promise I won’t spam you with nonsene and you’ll actually be thankful you did!

The post The Uninvolved Mom appeared first on A Bit of Simplicity.

I am not a chef at heart – I try, I really do…

But, somehow, I just lack that natural pazazz. 

My Meme on the other hand, now she’s a Pro!

However, out of all her years of cooking, I have managed to figure out a trick that even she didn’t know!

How many times have you been stuck in the kitchen shredding meat?

Chicken.

Roast.

Pork.

Anything.

It feels like a lifetime can be spent hunched over that piece of meat, shredding until you can feel the carpal tunnel setting in.

But no longer!

You want to know my secret hack?

The hack I didn’t even realize was a secret until I kept watching my family cook & noticing no one was doing this one. simple. trick. 

Blend it!

Yup, you heard me right.

Whip out your mixer.

Hand-held or fancy-dancy KitchenAid.

Doesn’t matter which it is.

Place your meat into the bowl and shred away!

Seriously, it’s that simple!

As if I need to break it down for you anymore,

Here is a step-by-step guide:

1. Place your meat into the bowl (you can cut it up into smaller pieces if you’d like, but I have done it with pretty large pieces and it’s worked out just the same). 
2. Turn your mixer on medium speed.
3. Shred away!

You can shred for as long as you’d like making the mixture more or less shredded.

You’re Welcome (;

Don’t forget to sign-up for my mailing list so you will stay up-to-date with my posts, freebies, and more!

The post One Simple Cooking Hack Everyone Should Know appeared first on A Bit of Simplicity.

Does God make mistakes?

I know the answer.

We all know the answer.

But sometimes it surely feels like He does.

Today, as I was sitting down feeling overwhelmed with everything, I let my mind go.

I let it go to that place I try to shield it from. The darkness and doubt that I try not to let sink it.

But, today, it went there.

It actually started last night. I laid in bed and all the worries from the days past started jogging my mind and I quickly prayed:

Lord, let me know that I am on the right path. Let me know I am doing the right thing. I feel so lost. I don’t feel like I am enough. I need you. I need the confidence you once gave me. 

Then, the morning came.

I was looking for my sign.

Just a little something, it didn’t have to be big.

A smile from my not-so-smiley-morning-person of a daughter. A quick hug from my quickly growing little man. Or, even a small memorable moment of us all together enjoying something little…

But, it never came.

Almost immediately the kids were running around bickering back-and-forth.

The baby was at my feet in constant tears.

And I sat there fixated out in space.

It felt like the exact opposite of what I had prayed for. Maybe this was my sign.

Then, before I knew it, I let my mind slip…

It would be SO much easier just to send them back to school. I could work and not feel overwhelmed. I wouldn’t have to worry about their education, as much. It wouldn’t be my responsibility any more. 

It would be so much easier. 

When I felt the need to homeschool, the idea literally kicked me in the stomach. Both from fear and from intensity. I knew it wasn’t just my idea.

It was His.

I don’t think I’ve ever experience God talking to me. Never have I felt worthy of it. So, as much faith as I have had through life, that’s all it was.

Faith that I was doing right. That He was guiding us.

Faith that the right path would just unfold in front of us.

But, that’s not what this was.

This was literally an idea planted in my heart. Thoughts that went against what I believed. And, ideas that kept pushing through my doubts.

Then, there were scriptures, people, and situations that just pushed me forward. Realizing that it was God who was pushing me and planting this idea.

And, I had so much confidence it in.

Key word: had

4 months into this process. Of being a Stay-At-Home-Working-Mom. Being a mother to a child with special needs. Taking on the responsibility as primary mentor. And, the weight of it all finally started setting in.

The doubt, the fear, the exhaustion.

The simple fact that I don’t feel like I am enough.

It all becomes overwhelming.

So, this morning, as those thoughts that I have been keeping myself from drowning in started to flood in and I felt like I was sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness, a light went off.

I grabbed my daily devotional (which I happened to forget this morning) and began the next page in the book.

Then, there it was.

I read the first sentence, the very first sentence, and the hairs on my arm stood:

“Whatever task God gives you to do, He will give you the strength to do it.”

Are you serious?!

Thanks, God, I hear ya! My ears are open now.

I kept reading:

“Whatever dreams He plants in your heart (the exact phrase I have been using the whole time to describe how/why I came to this decision)… Whatever promises He makes, He will come through on it. For He never lies (okay, okay, I totally take back my question on if He makes mistakes…) So have faith woman, that you already have the ability to do what God has created you to do.”

SO HAVE FAITH WOMAN! 

I stopped right there and just praised Him. Praised Him for speaking to me once again; because, He didn’t have to. He could’ve made me tough it out. He could have continued to test me; but, He knew I needed His reassurance and He gave it to me.

How amazing is that?!

Now, I am not going to sit here and say my day from this point on was all Mary Poppins and butterflies. We didn’t Magic School Bus it into the learning zone. The kids didn’t stop their bickering. And, I think I’ve become immune to the baby’s cries.

BUT

I know that this is where I am meant to be. This is what I am meant to do.

I do not see the end result now. There is no way for me to know how this decision will impact our lives from here on out.

But, God does.

He knows.

He has confidence in me.

And where I lack in my own confidence, in my own abilities, that’s okay. Because, I don’t have to be strong enough to do this.

In fact

I am not strong enough to do this.

But, He is and that’s all that matters.

The post Does God Make Mistakes? appeared first on A Bit of Simplicity.

Minimalism.

It’s all over the internet. The new it thing to do.

Pinterest is bombarding you with quotes and lists of things to purge.

Facebook is filling up with newsfeeds about how great everyone is feeling getting rid of stuff.

Meanwhile, I am sitting in my house scooping up all my clutter all around me -my five random buttons that I have no clue what they go to but may be good for something one day, my clothes that I haven’t fit in for the last 2 years but I might one day, my kids’ pre-k artwork that I’m not entirely sure what it is a picture of but they may want to see it one day- and feeling comforted.

ahhh, the comfort of random necessities… or, at least, I think they are necessities… okay, I am just pretending they are necessities.

See, everyone is talking about the wonders of becoming a minimalist but no one even addresses the bigger elephant in the room, the people who are known as:

Excessivist.

Okay, okay, I completely made that word up; but, it’s true.

I don’t like the term hoarder, because I am not a hoarder.

My house is clean and not lined with narrow paths in between piles of boxes, clothes, and trash. I don’t have a garage over-flowing with doll heads. Or, an attic caving the ceiling in with old newspapers.

I have a house that has stuff. Maybe unnecessary stuff, but it’s stuff that I might need/want one day.

Don’t get me wrong.

I like the idea of minimalism.

The thought of only having what you need does come with a sense of clarity and peace.

I see white walls, a room void of objects, and fluffy blankets.

Okay, why does that now sound like a room inside an insane asylum…?

There have been numerous studies that show when we remove clutter from our lives, our stress levels drastically decrease. I totally see that.

Whenever I get out of my Rosie the Robot mode the house goes into self-destruct. Trash somehow starts piling up, dishes begin to create their own little village in the sink, and clothes start growing their own appendages. And, I feel my mind begins to shrink with overwhelming clutter. New things to do, more spots to clean…

The clutter sneaks from my house and enters my brain.

So, I get it.

The study makes 100% sense.

But, I can’t do it.  I can’t get rid of these things.

You see, I come from a long line of: “But, what-if we’ll need this one day?!”

It would just kill us to have to buy something we once had but threw away thinking we didn’t need it.

We spend most of our time coming up with justifiable reasons why we have 5 of the same things (especially when 4 of them are broken).

And then you have my husband… he’s been a minimalist since before it was cool.

He would literally live with 5 pairs of each clothing items needed, just the exact right amount of dishes, and he’d even count out the toilet paper rolls to make sure he didn’t have too much.

He’s also an instant giver.

Haven’t used an item in a week? Give it away.

Haven’t worn a piece of clothing all month? Give it away.

Haven’t talked to a friend in over 2 months? Give them away.

Seriously, he’s all about clean, thorough, and necessity only.

Now that I think about it, he may be the founder of minimalism…

So, as you can guess, life in our house is pretty torn.

He’s sneaking items out the back door to put in the truck to give away and I’m sneaking out the front to get them back.

This last snow day got me thinking, because it stirred up controversy over changing and cleaning out a couple rooms because they weren’t being “used” as much, is there such a thing as a happy medium?

Can you find the peace of minimalism with the comfort of excess?

I think so.

Honestly, we’ve come pretty close to a happy medium because I think, if not, one of us would have been on the curb a long time ago.

And, I say pretty close because we arn’t exactly there yet.

I don’t have that peace and clutter free feeling that minimalism is supposed to give you.

I want to, but I also don’t want to have to trash everything…

There has to be ways around this…

To find a good mediumist (yes, I just created another word) spot, I think you have to make small steps.

• Don’t throw away everything. Throw away trash, throw away junk – but for all those other “things”, find a spot for them. A tote in your closet, a box in the attic. Find a spot for them that you can get to, but that gets them out of the way.
• Don’t take stuff that you don’t need. If your mother-in-law is giving you a stack of magazines that she thought you’d like-and you might, if you ever had the chance to read them- don’t take it!
• Find a good home for your loved items. Are you still holding onto those jeans that looked GREAT on you a few years ago? Don’t give up hope that you’ll never fit into them again; but, in the mean time, find a new home & someone else who can cherish them like you did. And, when the time comes that you could fit in them again, treat yourself to a brand new pair!
• Create new uses for old items. Can’t stand the idea of throwing away all of those old mason jars your grandma had? PINTEREST new ideas! Lawd, child, Pinterest everything!

These are only a few ideas, and things I have to work on too, but there has to be a way to find this happy medium I think we are all searching for.

Do you have any ideas on what else we could do to find peace in mediumism?

I really hope that isn’t the term for calling on the dead… 

The post Minimalist vs. Excessivist: No Happy Medium? appeared first on A Bit of Simplicity.

I once had a conversation, with a very entitled man, that will forever be ingrained in my mind.

It was 7 years ago.

I was a new mom, wife, and homeowner.

He came by to congratulate us on our baby and began talking about a friend’s wife and just how “disgustingly lazy” she was…

Her husband worked – she did not.

All she did was stay at home with the kids all day, some were even old enough for school, and she…wait for it…

STAYED IN HER PAJAMAS ALL DAY LONG!!

How atrocious, right?? How dare her…

That was it. That was his final point. His argument for her being disgustingly lazy was that:

1. She didn’t work (because we all know that staying home and raising children is not work… **insert eye roll here**)

AND, worst of all…

      2. She wore pajamas (you know, instead of dirtying up more clothes that no one else would see and adding to her mysteriously regrowing pile of laundry)

I clearly remember looking at him dumbfounded and thinking, “I am so glad I changed my clothes before he got here.”

Because, let’s be honest…

I am that disgustingly lazy mom.

Heck, I was her and my baby wasn’t even a month old! You can only imagine how more disgusting and more lazy I’ve become now that she’s 7 and we’ve added two more kids to the mix…

I mean, seriously, there are some days I wear the same pajamas twice   …gasssp

Rewind to that day, and my dumbfounded look, I just sat there and nodded my head in agreeance, thanking God I changed my clothes so he couldn’t judge me.

I’d like to say I’ve changed since then (No, I don’t mean my clothes. For heavens sake people, yes – I have changed my pajamas at least a few times within the past seven years). 

And, I’m not talking about changing my disgustingly lazy habit.

Honestly, by the end of the day, I think that’s a habit I have well deserved.

I am talking about having changed my value on other’s opinions of me and how I “mom.”

Because, honestly, from afar… my momming looks like a hot mess.

But, it’s my mess.

My wonderfully, chaotic mess that I am still in control of.

most the time… 

I wish I could say that I don’t feel a twinge of remorse when people stumble into my house unannounced (or even announced, because 98% of the time I’m not changing my clothes even if you warn me you’re coming over…) and find me in my sweats and a tank top.

Sweats.

Tank Top.

And, dark under eye circles that are almost classified as a black hole…

That’s what you will find me rocking, in full mom mode, when you walk into my house.

And, I can’t say that I’m “proud” of it.

There are always those quick moments before, or after, someone walks through the door that I wish I would’ve changed.

Or cleaned the house.

Or done an extra load of laundry.

Or at least put in some oils so that the house didn’t smell like musty cheetos.

But, that’s my life.

I should be proud of so many things.

There are things we go through on a daily basis that no one else sees, no pats on the back, no moment of “you’re doing great” when you feel like you are failing.

Instead of focusing on all that we do accomplish in a day, all we (and I say we because us mom dish out the hardest criticisms, especially to ourselves) see is a tired mom in pajamas who couldn’t even get dressed that morning.

I wish I could go back and have the confidence to tell him that she probably was running off of 4 hours of sleep. That she may have been up all night with a sick child. Or that she jumped out of bed so quickly to the sound of her alarm clock that it never even crossed her mind to change her clothes.

I wish that people would be a little more considerate towards moms.

We all do it differently.

Some moms can look put together & still manage to keep their kids alive. Others are just lucky that they got to flush the toilet in peace.

Whatever it is, however they look, whenever you see them… they are working hard.

So, I say

ROCK your pajamas mom!

ROCK the fact that you don’t have a bra on (because, isn’t that the main reason we stay in pajamas all day long?!)

ROCK it all.

They’re going to find flaws in you anyway… the least you can do is be comfortable while they do it (;

The post To All The Disgustingly Lazy Moms Out There… appeared first on A Bit of Simplicity.

“Let her sleep. For when she wakes, she will move mountains.”

Let me first address the elephant in the room, I am sorry for my rather long hiatus – life. Life happened. Homeschooling. Running my own small business. And, taking care of LB – it’s been a whirlwind! But, it’s my life – and I love it (no matter how exhausted I look or how much left-over mascara I have on…) 

For those of you who have been following LB’s journey: THANK YOU! 

You can also follow her journey on her facebook page: fb.com/LBsJourney

She has come so far this past year.

Countless OT appointments. Endless doctor visits. And, priceless memories.

Last night was a big first for us-

After 16 months, LB spent her first night away from me…

No, not at someone else’s house, ARE YOU INSANE?! 

(;

For the past 16 months, her entire life, LB has sleep by my side.

Every night.

485 days (give or take).

Not counting the few first nights after her open heart surgery, she has never NOT slept in the same room as me.

At first, it was a necessity.

It was too risky to leave her in her own room alone.

She could stop breathing from her sleep apnea…

which she did.

She could get tangled in the wires from her feeding tube…

which happened often.

There would be many nights that I would wake up, no real reason other than to check on her, and I would find the tubes strangled around her neck.

It was my biggest fear, my greatest challenge, and my worst nightmare.

And, it happened almost every night, despite our best maneuvers.

So, you see – as often as my husband would pick on me for keeping her so close, I had to.

Months went on and changes took place.

She became stronger. Slept better. And, didn’t have to be hooked to her feeding pump at night.

But, she was still in my room.

What if she needed me?

What if her teeth started hurting her?

What if her foot got stuck in between the rail?

What if… what if.. what if…

The what if’s quickly ruled my mind, and it was just easier to become accustom to her staying in our room.

We bought a smaller crib, made a make-shift area for her, and life went on.

She began sleeping through the night and everything was great.

Our other two littles seemed to seamlessly sneak their way into our room at night, as well.

None of that ever bothered me. It still doesn’t.

Heck, I’ve even entertained the idea of creating just one big room for us to sleep in…

It’s because I know one day they won’t find their way into our room anymore, they won’t sneak on their dad’s side and manage to get him to squeeze over, they won’t fight over who gets to make their pallet on which side.

One day, they will walk out of our room carrying their blankets; and, unknowing to us, it will be the last time.

I know this day will come sooner that I’d like. I will have my room all to myself (other than the 7ft tall hulk I share it with). 

So, for now, I don’t mind them sleeping in there…

But, I’ve realized that the situation with LB is different.

She isn’t choosing to sleep in our room.

I’m making her.

She has no problem to sleep away from me… it is me. It’s 100% me.

I am hindering her from growing.

From spreading her wings, taking the next “big girl” step.

I can’t do that to her.

I know, I know… it’s not that big of a deal. But, I’m afraid that if I hold her close to me with this (because I want her to) then I will do it with other things to.

It’s not only her that has to learn on this journey. She’s not the only one who has to grow.

I have to learn to let her take these steps. To try these things on her own. There will be times I will have to sit back and let her fail (like every other child).

I can’t spend my life trying to protect her.

Honestly, I do parent her differently than my other two. It’s easy to give them a push, let them spread their wings. I know that when they fall they will dust themselves off to try again. And, if not, I will be there to motivate them.

But, with LB, I can’t help but want to guard her, protect her, and hold her close.

Hasn’t she been through enough? Isn’t the obstacles that she will have to face ON TOP of all the “normal stuff” enough? Why would I let her fall?

…because she has to.

As I rolled over last night, to the only side I can fall asleep on, which just happens to be the side LB sleeps on… my heart sank not seeing her there.

I thought I was fine as I moved her crib into the other room. No tears where shed as I kissed her goodnight in the other room. And, I managed to walk out with my heart still in tact as I cracked the door in the other room.

But, it wasn’t until I rolled over to my side. To her side. To our side – and, didn’t see her there that it hit me.

I sat there in the dark as the tears silently flowed, looking at the spot where she has slept for over a year and a half – and knew it was time.

Because, as I will spend my life fighting for other people to not treat her different – I can’t either.

That’s the only way she’ll learn.

That’s the only way she will fly.

That is how she will move mountains.

The post Let Her Sleep, For When She Wakes… appeared first on A Bit of Simplicity.

Since I can remember, I’ve always validated my career choice by saying, “If I can’t be a stay-at-home mom – Then, I guess teaching is the next best thing.”

I would get all the holidays off with my children. Summers. Weekends. I would be in the same school system as them. It would be a close 2nd to my first choice.

And, simply, the reality of our modern day world is that women work. Women are hard, productive workers in our society (woohoo for women!). We don’t live in a society any more where the woman’s job is to stay home and wake up pretty, serving a nice, warm, homemade breakfast, kissing our husbands off to work and children off to school, spending all day cleaning and ironing, making sure the house is in tip top shape for when they return.

I mean, really, who thought women were okay with that robotic lifestyle?!

But, deep down, I do wish I could do that…

Okay, not all of that and not to that level of idealistic perfection – but I would love to not feel like I need a 9 to 5 to make me valuable, not only to my family but to society as well.

When I was little, for as long as I can remember, I just wanted to be a mom. That was it. I didn’t have dreams of reaching Mars or curing cancer. I didn’t have a passion to sing on Broadway. There was no yearning to pack up and travel the world (even though, I do think that would be awesome).

Whenever I was asked what I wanted to be my answer was simple, “A Mommy.”

However, as I got older and reality hit, I realized that being “a mommy” doesn’t pay the bills (; So, then came my new mantra of “teaching is the next best thing.”

And, don’t get me wrong – I love teaching!

I do. I remember thinking, I get paid to do this?! This is GREAT! 

But, deep down, there was always a part of me that wasn’t satisfied.

It felt good to teach and to impact those children’s lives – but, to put it simply, I missed my babies.

However, I knew financially that staying home wouldn’t be an option. J works HARD for everything we have- but, what can I say, we like nice things (;

So, I knew in order to maintain a “lifestyle” that we were happy with, I would need to maintain this second income.

Yet, as life always does, it sent us a curve ball.  With a turn of events, I ended up being a SAHM. Not because I stood up for myself and chose to be, because LB needs me to be.

And, I love staying at home with her. My heart is so happy knowing that I am here witnessing all her milestones, not a paid babysitter.

However, recently, an idea and thought has been on my mind/heart a lot.

Something I just can’t quite shake.

And, today I was thinking about my validation phrase.

A phrase I have been playing over and over in my head for the past 10 years. And then it hit me, why can’t I have both?

I went to school and earned my degree in elementary education. It was hard. Probably top 5 hardest things in my life: being a full-time mom and full-time student.

But, by the Grace of God, and many long years later – I did it!

And, I kept pushing on because I wanted to do this for myself. I wanted to earn my degree to prove everyone wrong. I wanted to earn my degree to be proud of myself.

Right?

But- what if I really wasn’t doing it for myself?

What if God had a different plan all along?

What if this degree wasn’t meant to be used on other people’s kids?

What if, all along, I was gaining this knowledge to better understand how to teach my kids?

**GASP!!!**

She can’t really be thinking that can she? Doesn’t she know that her kids will turn out WEIRD? Isn’t she just being selfish, so she can stay home longer? Homeschooling is the worst decision she could make- her poor kids!

Please, take this as my official stated dramatic eye-roll.

I know, trust me- I KNOW what you are thinking.

How do I know? Because I used to think the same thing. I honestly did.

But, for the last few months I have had this yearning – this itch – to know more; to learn more; to understand more about the concept of homeschooling.

And, man is it overwhelming.

I spent the first few weeks talking myself out of the idea. It was like that pesky fly that, no matter how many times you swat at it, it just doesn’t go away.

I told myself those exact phrases (and more) over and over again. J would never agree with me. My family would never agree with me. Heck, I don’t even agree with me.

But, little by little – day by day, the idea started to take hold of my heart. It had already consumed my mind, it was all I could think about; but, finally it hit me: I do want to do this!

I honestly think, and I have never had a moment where I thought God had placed something on my heart, but I truly feel like this was Him speaking to me. I’ll have to leave that experience for another blog post, because it was amazing… and scary. 

It was just something I undoubtedly couldn’t shake.

So, I started researching and looking into the idea of homeschooling – and you know what I learned?

It’s not that I am afraid that if my kids go to school they are going to turn out “bad” or be exposed to something that I could shelter them from. Because, honestly, sheltering them from the world is the last thing on my mind.

I want to home school for much more than that:

For, initiating the appreciation of quality family time.

Building up our relationships, not weighing them down with a hectic push-them-out-the-door lifestyle.

Create a true love of learning, which unfortunately is not obtained my most children in school systems.

Establish a discipleship, a love for God and a love for connecting with God.

I want so much more for my family than this lifestyle we have created. This chaotic, stressful drop off/pick up/repeat life that we live.

And, you know what?

It might not work.

Maybe the kids wont like it. Maybe it won’t change the way we live. Maybe I am giving myself too much credit.

But, isn’t it worth a shot?

…

Is it worth having the judgmental comments? Is it worth defying the world and our social “norms”? Will it be worth the extra time and effort I will have to put into it?

I think so.

Plus, I am not supposed to be raising my kids by the way of the world anyway. I am supposed to be raising them by the way of The Word.

The post Why Homeschooling is the Worst Decision You Could Make appeared first on A Bit of Simplicity.