Jan 22

Snow Day

Well I am not sure that you can quite call it a snow day yet, but there are some flurries outside, and our back porch looks white ish at the moment.

I just woke up from a nap, and I went into the den to read a bit. Dan was making fun of me last night, because I order a lot of books and never read them.

It’s true.

So in an attempt to prove him wrong, I sat down by myself in the quiet to read a little. I slowly opened a book called Rare Bird that a friend recommended to me about loss and grief, and I have avoided it because it gives me puffy eyes and makes me sad, but something about the cold and loneliness that I was feeling made me want to go there today.

So after checking instagram and getting annoyed at someone posting about why we should avoid sugar. Seriously? I mean i like sugar. I snuggled on the couch with my sad book.

I continued to read this moms recall of the day that her son died, and I wept.

I go back there from time to time, and when I do it hurts. The day my baby girl died was the worst day of my life.

So I stopped reading after a chapter or two like I always do, because I am not a good reader, and I began to eat an apple, because of that annoying girl on instagram saying that we should eat more salads, and I emptied the dishwasher and began to hate the snow. I hate the snow. I hate it.

Why you say?

Because it would have been Mary Anna’s first snow, and we are about to buy our first house, and we are about to have our first baby girl after her, and it seems like 2 1/2 years later that firsts would end, but they don’t. They come and they hurt.

Now my sweet William is awake, and my inner debate is if I should online shop, go to Target, or play in this snow that I have decided is really annoying me right now.

Grief just stinks.

I have been avoiding my feelings so much lately, because all of these firsts in a new town with new faces seem so daunting. The afternoons seem long with reruns of Curious George, and my sweet baby boy needs me now, and I just want to write and write, but I can’t. Because I am a mom. And mom’s don’t get snow days.

Thankfully since I don’t like snow days.


Jan 08


On Christmas morning a dear friend texted me and asked how I was. I replied very honestly, and told her that for some reason this year buying gifts seemed really hard, so I just did not buy gifts. I didn’t buy my husband, parents, or friends anything, and I really barely bought William anything. Something about thinking about or purchasing gifts brought up an immense amount of grief.

I would feel really sad or angry, and I knew the root was feeling overwhelmed at the thought of another Christmas morning without Mary Anna. It just hurts. It just really deeply hurts.

She responded this way: you’ve always been so good at not doing something just because you think you should. another Christmas where y’all have so much to be grateful for even in the midst of your sadness. just wish we were close enough to celebrate this time of year with y’all.

I teared up as I read this, because she has always been consistent in supporting me, and not making me feel guilty when my grief comes out in odd ways, and for this I am thankful.

Loss has taught me so much about friendship. About who I want to be my friends, and also how so many friends just don’t want to go to the hard places with you. It’s just life. We wanna do the fun things, but we really don’t like the hard things.

I mean I get it. I don’t desire hard things either….

Dan is good about listening to podcasts on the way to work, and he came home the other day, and told me that I had to listen to this certain one. Today while cleaning toilets something pricked my heart to look up that sermon, and I am so glad I did. And I am here writing, because I think everyone MUST listen to it.

Hopefully we can all find ways to not feel guilty for not being the friends that we should be, but instead yearn to dig deeper into our friendships and love each other richer this year.

Keep Walking my friends.

Jan 01

French Fries

Dan and I were talking the other night before bed about New Years resolutions. We’ve never really been big on them, and so just to be funny, D told me: ya know… I think my resolution is going to be to eat more french fries. I mean really we don’t eat enough of those in our house. He’s right. We don’t eat enough french fries in our house.

I often sit down to write and assume no one will read this, and if that’s the case it’s alright, because my writing is less than superb, and most of the time it’s more for me than for anyone else. With that being said, here’s to 2016!

As I watched my boys this morning run around the house and giggle, smile, snuggle, and do all the things we enjoy doing when daddy is home for a rare morning, I began to think that Dan was onto something. I think I want more french fries this year too.


I want to:

snuggle more and run errands less

forget my to do list in leu of a donut run with my baby boy

stress less about what’s in our bank account and more about what’s in our hearts

eat more french fries

play in puddles

love harder without regrets

stay in the hard places with my friends

spend more time making messes and less time cleaning them up

bake more

and drink more coffee of course

say yes more and no less

travel without over thinking the budget

relish being a stay at home mommy

go on dates more

and maybe eat more french fries too

you get the picture…

Life is just too short. Let’s Keep Walking into 2016 with a new kind of resolution. Amen.


For this God us our God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even to the end.
Psalm 48:14