All Things

Dwell on these words. Really let them sink into your heart.

That’s what I have been doing for the few weeks since I read them. I wrote them in my sketch book. I have looked at them, played with them, and created with them.

Anything you want to know intimately requires time. This is true of all things. If we want to know a person well, we spend time with them. If we want to know how to play a musical instrument well, we practice. If we want to know how to take photos, we spend many hours shooting and learning.

If we want to know God’s Word, we must spend time with it. For the past four years, I have been intentional with daily time in the Word. I have read and reread and then reread again. I want to know it well.

As much as I know and understand the importance of knowing God’s Word as a unified whole, I also see the need for me to know its individual parts. To spend time with them. To be acquainted with them.

And that is why I have been writing God’s Word. Each day I take time to grab some pens and my sketch journal and look at the words intently, individually. I write them, letting their weight fall in different places. I roll the words over my tongue, my hands, and my heart. I want to be intimate with the Word of God. When 1800+ languages don’t have a single word of Scripture in their own language, how can I not show my gratitude for God’s Word by spending time with it?

Back to a few weeks ago.

I read this verse. I wrote it down. I looked at it over and over. And I let it sink in.



This verse says that ALL THINGS are of Him. This means that ALL THINGS come from God. The things in the natural world, things manmade, things created and evolved and changed. ALL THINGS are of God. Without Him, nothing would be here.

This also means that ALL THINGS within us are of Him. Our personality, our gifts, our talents, our resources, our time, our health, our children, our dreams, our problems, our trials, our successes…ALL THINGS are of Him. ALL THINGS originate with Him. This is where true humility is birthed. When we recognize that not one thing is of us, only then can we be truly humble. We can’t let ourselves be fooled into thinking we did anything. The hard work that brought us success, even that is of God. The intelligence that brought you opportunities, even that is of God. The hours studying or practicing or preparing, even those are of God.


Not only are ALL THINGS of God, but also ALL THINGS are through God. Not one thing comes to you without it first going through God. Think of all you have: your house, your cars, your kids, your job, your friends, your time, your money. ALL THINGS come from Him and through Him. It ALL passes through the hands of God. You have it because He allowed it. This is also true of the things you do, all the successes you have, all the trials you encounter. They are from Him and they go through Him. Nothing goes from here to there without God being the middle man (and the beginning man and ending man, as we shall see.)


ALL THINGS are of God. They are through God. And they are to God. ALL THINGS we do or give or perform or build or create or dream or execute aren’t to anyone but God. I don’t use my gifts for others, they are for God. I don’t do my duties for others, I do them for God. And I don’t give to others, I give to God.  ALL THINGS are to Him.

That’s why we can give a little one a drink of cold water and have it count as love toward God. That’s how we can do all things for the glory of God.

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ —Matthew 25:35-40

How—if we truly let these words permeate our hearts—can we not be changed? In our thinking? In our doing? In our giving? In our loving? In our grieving?

All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being —John 1:3

Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow. —James 1:17

Yet for us there is but one God, the Father, from whom are all things and we exist for Him; and one Lord, Jesus Christ, by whom are all things, and we exist through Him. —1Corinthians 8:6

For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. —Colossians 1:6

You alone are the LORD. You made the heavens, even the highest heavens, and all their starry host, the earth and all that is on it, the seas and all that is in them. You give life to everything, and the multitudes of heaven worship you. —Nehemiah 9:6

What do you have that you did not receive? —1 Corinthians 4:7


The Perfect Mom

Some mom moments are better than others

Some mom moments are better than others

I smelled the nail polish. I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from, but the scent was strong.

Yes, I had given my seven-year-old permission to paint her nails. Usually I would supervise an activity like that (due to the time it takes to get nail polish off of legs, arms, and other body parts.) But she is seven and she’s spending more time each day as a young lady rather than a little girl. I trusted her to do as I said.

I gave her one instruction: when you are done, put the nail polish away.

I continued making dinner. And then I saw it. The dark floors had camouflaged the evidence, but the leash hanging from the dog (no doubt thanks to the four-year old) made a trail of blue that was hard to miss. Nail polish pooling on the wood floors, the leash painting a series of blue swirls and whirls through the kitchen.

Nail polish. On the floor. With no top on. BLUE.

“KATIE!” I called. Er, um…screamed.

I was sick. I was tired. My throat hurt so much I could barely swallow. My husband was out of town and the rain hadn’t stopped falling in a week and the natives were restless. Of course this is the day the blue nail polish would decorate the house.

She came upstairs and I gave her the look, one she didn’t yet recognize.

I’ve gone to tremendous effort to stop any and all yelling in our home. I fail occasionally, but the truth of it is that God has given me victory over the tone and volume of my voice. I rarely yell.

Many years ago I yelled at one of  my kids for something. It might have been Alaina and she was only four or five. I yelled and I let my eyes sear into her. And what I got in return was a look of sheer terror. From my little girl who made a little girl mistake.

And in that moment, I vowed to learn to take control of my mouth. Yelling is not okay in our home. Not for me. Not for the kids.

And yet there are times, like when the rain won’t stop and my feet are cold and my husband is out of town and sickness has invaded our home and the blue nail polish is everywhere, yes, there are times the volume of my voice matches the frustration in my spirit. And shamefully, I let the words fly unrestrained.

With blue swirls around my feet and covering the dog leash, it felt good to yell. The sinful part of me wanted my little girl to know how upset I was and I was thrilled to let the emotions find a place to land. “I gave you ONE instruction!” my voice bellowed. Then, when the words ran out and the tears on my girl’s face covered her freckles, I couldn’t let enough be enough. We sat in silence as I made her watch me clean up every last bit of that nail polish. I scrubbed harder than I needed, just to make a point.

And in that moment, I realized once again why I need Jesus.

I’m not a perfect mom. Not even close. But that’s not the goal, is it? No one is the perfect mom. None of us get it right all the time. We can (and should!) work harder. We need to learn to love our children (Titus 2). We need to take control of our mouths and our spirits. I hope I am a better mom next year than I am now. I want to be better, but I have no hope of being perfect.

I let my emotions cool down, simmering slowly rather than a full-on boil. I finished dinner, fed the little ones, took some ibuprofen, gargled some salt water, and climbed into bed. A few minutes later, I paused my show and called for Katie. I didn’t say anything. I just pulled her under the covers with me and I stroked her hair while we watched. When our show was over and it was time for her to brush her teeth, I pulled her little body—her weight reminding me she isn’t so little anymore—up onto the counter and I looked into her eyes.

“Katie, you made a mistake. And so did I. But I want you to understand that the goal isn’t to never make mistakes. It’s just not possible. If we never made mistakes we wouldn’t need Jesus. And oh how we need Jesus! He died to pay for these mistakes of ours. We should try to be better, but until we’re in heaven, we won’t be perfect. You WILL make mistakes. You’ll make lots of them. Part of it is because you’re just a kid and the Bible tells us that foolishness is all tangled up in your heart. Part of it is your are just human, like me. You’re going to make mistakes. You’re going to choose to do wrong. And mom will probably get upset. I don’t expect you to be perfect. It just won’t happen. But we have Jesus. He will help us make better choices and fewer mistakes and He has already paid for the mistakes we just can’t avoid. I’m so sorry for yelling. I was upset but I didn’t handle my emotions correctly, did I? I LOVE you. You know that, right? Nothing you do can separate you from my love just as nothing we do can separate us from God’s love. There is not one thing you could do that would make me stop loving you. Nothing. I might not be happy with you and there might have to be consequences, but that is not the same as me not loving you. You’re my girl and you always will be. Will you please forgive me? I was wrong. I made wrong choices. I’m sorry.”

Eyes bright blue and tears streaming down, she hugged my neck tight. And I knew…this is it. This is what this parenting thing is made of. Like marriage, it’s two sinners leaning into Jesus. Because without Him, it’s all just a big mistake. But with Him, we can offer love and forgiveness and say, “I’m sorry.” I will never be the perfect mom. But I have the perfect Jesus and He lives within me, enabling me to act like Him more each day.

My kids see it all. My good side, my bad side, and all the other sides I try so hard to hide. They know I mess up. They know I make mistakes. But they also know their mama will come to them, offer a sincere apology, and promise to love them always.

Maybe that’s what it means to be the perfect mom.

I Almost Forgot

©PreparingtheSoil | Almost Forgot


“…stop rushing to get the to do list done because it never leaves. The kids do.”

It was a rough summer. Even after I started feeling myself again, we had some other issues that took up most of our time and energy. The unrelenting North Carolina heat didn’t help matters much. The summer is mostly a blur as I try to figure out what exactly we did.


We’re normally a happy, do-stuff-together type family. We love to camp, hike, and be outside. We like to let the kids get dirty and have fun. We like days with no schedule, yummy-not-so-good-for-you treats, and finding critters that the kids beg to bring home as pets.


But this summer?

I almost forgot.


I almost forgot what it felt like to be me. To be us. To let the kids run free, get wet, and be kids. I almost forgot what it felt to walk a few paces behind my family as my camera captures the little moments I want to remember forever. I almost forgot what it was like to be intentional in just watching. Watching my kids love each other. Help each other. Encourage each other. I almost forgot about all the little ways they show their love and how blessed they are all to have one another. I almost forgot about the way their individual personalities shine through during unstructured play: the adventurous ones being adventurous, the introverted one enjoying the peaceful scenery, the little ones entertaining themselves with the same activity over and over (and over).

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On Saturday, though the to-do list was longer than anything that had any hopes of being accomplished, I knew we needed it. We needed time. Time together. Time outside.


We chose something close: the local river that runs through the county. An access point is just ten minutes from our home. We walked. We let the kids play. They got wet and dirty and full of sunshine. I watched them and I remembered. I remembered who we were and what fills our souls. I am so glad I remembered, because I almost forgot.

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Oh the bliss! May I never forget the little moments. The watching. The seeing who my family is.

 As another writer so eloquently mentioned:

“…stop rushing to get the to do list done because it never leaves. The kids do.”

Catching Up & Cake Batter Truffles


I appreciate all the sweet words from my last post. I am still feeling great and like myself again. Clearly there was something going on even if the doctors couldn’t find it. But it’s gone now and I am S.L.O.W.L.Y catching up on eight missing months of my life as well as trying not to fall too far behind on life now. Throw in a whole lot of moving and settling into a new home and you’ve got some long days and longer to-do lists. But I’m having fun and loving the old me!

One thing I did more of over the summer as I started feeling better was cooking and baking! I really love working with food. I love trying new recipes and I love sharing old favorites. We had a pot-luck type meal to attend a few weeks ago and I wanted to put together something easy since we were packing up our old house. My kids LOVE these easy and yummy (and not very good for you) cake batter truffles. They are the perfect choice for when you need something easy but you want it to look beautiful!


Cake Batter Truffles


  • 1 cup white cake mix
  • 1/4 - 1/3 cup sweetened condensed milk
  • 1/2 tsp. vanilla
  • dipping chocolate (white or dark)
  • sprinkles/topping of your choice


  1. In mixing bowl, combine first three ingredients. Mix well. If the mixture is too dry, add a bit more condensed milk. If too wet, add more cake mix. It should be a fairly firm and sticky texture that will allow you to roll into balls.
  2. If you're in a hurry, roll into one-inch balls. I use a cookie scoop for this to ensure similar sized balls. If you have time, put mix into the freezer for 10-15 minutes to make it a little easier to work with.
  3. Melt dipping chocolate according to package directions. With a parchment paper lined cookie sheet next to you, dip balls in chocolate and place on cookie sheet. After 4-5 balls, add sprinkles (you want to add topping before the chocolate starts to harden). Keep working until all the mixture is in balls.
  4. Place in refrigerator or freezer for 20 minutes or until firm.
  5. Wow your family and friends!

Happy and Healthy


Our bodies are an amazing part of creation! I am often in awe at the intricacy and creativity with which they were fashioned. Books about the functionality of our brain take up a great deal of space on my Kindle. We are fascinating creatures woven by a fascinating God!

However, along with the beauty of function and form, we are also faced with life in a fallen world, within which are imperfect bodies. These bodies are temporal and we can be confident in eternity we will have a new and perfect one. But for our time on earth, we are bound to the body we have been given, along with its many imperfections.

We get sick. We get hurt. Our bodies have the ability and tendency to separate from our minds and we can get locked in a chasm between what we want to do and what we are able to do. And it is in that chasm that I spent eight months.

During the first week of December, something in my body went wrong. I still don’t know what. I went from being myself — busy but happy — to being a shell holding a once-happy heart and a once-vibrant mind. For eight months, I woke up to and went to bed with the headache. My personality —  the things that make me “me” — was gone. Janet had disappeared and her shell was in pain.

I found little pleasure in my usual sources of joy: mothering, writing, baking, photography, hospitality. My spirit was strong and so I tried. But with each attempt the emptiness echoed louder.

A headache. Depression. For eight months.

During this time, I was acutely aware of a split between my body and spirit. My soul was strong and satisfied. My heart was happy and secure. And yet my body betrayed me. I knew there was something wrong. I felt I was watching my life from the outside, so desperately wanting to jump in and fix whatever was plaguing me.

I visited doctors, chiropractors, dentists. I took antidepressants and muscle relaxants and lots of vitamin D. I prayed. Others prayed. I spent time in the sun. I read. I researched. I sought counsel — medical, emotional, and spiritual. And yet, for eight months my imperfect body betrayed me.

And then.

Just as quick as it came on that first cold week of December, it lifted one hot week in late July. One day, I woke up with my headache and the empty shell of my personality. That same day, after God said to whatever ailed me, “Enough,” I went to bed pain and anguish free.

In a moment. In an instant. In a twinkling of an eye. The pain was gone. Hope was renewed.

That was almost six weeks ago, and I have not had one day of pain since. A week later as we were packing to move, I couldn’t find my medications. I have never tried looking again. I don’t need them. I am back. The real Janet, the all-too-intense, all-too-idealistic dreamer is back.

Happy, healthy, and even more dependent on the grace that is to be revealed.

His thoughts are not our thoughts. His ways are not our ways.

HIs ways are perfect.

Homemade Peanut Butter Filled Chocolate Cookies


I love to cook.

I love to bake.

I love to eat.

Granted, I also love to exercise and play with my kids. So all that cooking, baking, and eating has to be done in moderation! In addition, due to continuing health problems, I have had to once again completely cut sugar out of diet. Oh how much better I do without it! But oh how yummy it tastes!

I made these cookies sometime in June. They were so good! I’ve been experimenting with no sugar/low-glycemic cooking the past few weeks, so I will have to try these again and see if I can recreate them. But for now, here are the cookies in all their sugary glory.

©janetphillips_june24_2015_web-3I used the recipe HERE

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Why Yes, I Did Change My Header After Four Years…


It was time. It might change again. If you on a blog reader, just click here for a peek.

It matches the header on my photography site.


I plan to have more of a presence on both sites. After the craziest roller coaster of a ride this past year, we might just be coming upon some semblance of normal. We still have to move (it got pushed back a month), but I’ve been feeling better, I’ve been cooking a lot more, and I’ve been much more me lately.

Like most days, my Bible time today offered me fresh grace and hope and a reminder that He is always with me.

“He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my steps.”

“Here my cry, O God; attend to my prayer. From the end of the earth I will cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed.”

“Out of the belly of Sheol I cried, and You heard my voice. For You cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas, and the floods surrounded me; all Your billows and Your waves passed over me.”

We went through fire and through water; but You brought us out to rich fulfillment.”



Family Night: CAMPOUT


I don’t talk about it much here, but back in 2009 I started a website called The Daily Digi. It is a site dedicated to digital scrapbookers and photographers. I ran it for a year, and then after starting homeschooling I realized it was just too much for me. My partner, Steph, took over for me and did an amazing job with running the site for five years. Due to some personal changes in her life, she asked me last summer if I would be interested in taking the site back. Knowing it would make our time more flexible for doing partnership development for our Wycliffe ministry, we decided to go for it.


In short, the site works to promote digital designers and also to share with the scrapbooking community the latest news, techniques, and products. In addition to daily posts on scrapbooking and photography, each month we also publish something called The Digi Files. For the low price of $7.50, scrappers get seven full scrapbooking kits to download. With more than $50 worth of product for just $7.50, it’s very popular!


This month I wanted to include a little something different. I am a firm believer in being intentional with creating memories. Obviously, many of our memories can’t and shouldn’t be planned. On the other hand, if we aren’t intentional and creating moments, the days start to slip by and “tomorrow” never comes. So, I created a fun, printable party pack that families could use at home. You know how much I love camping! So, if you can’t (or don’t want to) head to the campground, a fun campout at home is the next best thing!


Granted, I am one of “those moms” who really enjoys this type of activity. Creating with paper and food is fun for me. This may not be your thing and don’t for one minute feel guilty about it. If I didn’t enjoy it, I wouldn’t do it.


However, I also know many moms who want to do fun and creative things but don’t really know where to start. That’s where this party pack comes in. Everything is done for you. I researched and created so you wouldn’t have to. You can just print, cut, and enjoy! It’s only available until the end of the month, so if you are interested, grab it now. Otherwise, just sit back and enjoy my pictures. We had a fun afternoon! The kids loved having food I would never normally buy (isn’t that what camping is for?) and I loved watching my little people be together. Win Win.

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After eating, we had a scavenger hunt. I paired the big kids with a little kid and it was the sweetest thing to watch!


Here were the teams:©janetphillips_april27_2015_web-59©janetphillips_april27_2015_web-61©janetphillips_april27_2015_web-62©janetphillips_april27_2015_web-63©janetphillips_april27_2015_web-64©janetphillips_april27_2015_web-66©janetphillips_april27_2015_web-67©janetphillips_april27_2015_web-70©janetphillips_april27_2015_web-75©janetphillips_april27_2015_web-65©janetphillips_april27_2015_web-68©janetphillips_april27_2015_web-73

It’s Been Four Years


It was 2011. I had been praying about my word for the year. Just as the calendar turned to January 1, God gave me my word: ROOTED.

A usual, I didn’t know what God would choose to teach me through it over the year, but I knew the context. Immediately, this verse came to mind:

“Therefore as you have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him, having been firmly rooted and now being built up in Him and established in your faith, just as you were instructed, and overflowing with gratitude.” — Colossians 2:6,7

At the time, I so wanted to be built up in Christ. I had deep longings for service, for opportunities, for His direction. Although I didn’t understand it then, He was telling me, “You must be rooted first.”

It’s helpful to think deeply for a moment on the purpose and function of roots. An agricultural society would understand the significance more readily than our culture that scarcely knows how to grow anything other than mold in the fridge (myself included!)

Roots serve multiple functions:

1) Roots anchor the tree. Without the roots, without the deep penetration into the soil, the tree could not survive. What we see when we look at a beautiful tree is only half the reality. The other half lies beneath, doing the work that allows the beauty to be exposed.

2) Roots take up minerals and water from the soil, transforming into life-giving sustenance for the tree.

3) Roots store food for use in later growth — in the trunk, branches, and leaves.

Over the course of the year, God showed me what it meant to be rooted. He taught me that the reason I so often felt beaten down was that my roots were shallow. I would let them grow for a while and then pull them up when waiting caused me to lose interest. He taught me that without being rooted, I could not be nourished. Yes, of course, I would survive temporarily, but wilting and dying was inevitable. He taught me that the more I rooted, the more I could store for when the heat and drought came.

“Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, and whose trust is the LORD. For he will be like a tree planted by the water, that extends its roots by a stream. and will not fear when the heat comes; but its leaves will be green, and it will not be anxious in a year of drought nor cease to yield.” — Jeremiah 17:7-9

About halfway through 2011, my roots began to take hold. Beginning when I was twelve years old, God’s word fascinated me. I remember my spirit being quickened the first time and in the thousands of instances that followed, I had no trouble believing that God’s Word was truly living and active. However, wanting to read God’s Word and actually doing it are two very different things.

I’ve shared my story before, the most important resolution you can make,  and what my Bible time looks like on a regular basis.

But today, I am reflecting on what regular and systematic reading of God’s Word over the course of four years has done. Never has the benefit been more clear to me than over the last six months.

As I mentioned before, I didn’t expect the wave. And after feeling better for a few weeks, I certainly didn’t expect another wave to come crashing down. And yet, it did. Already weary from before, I scarcely had breath to keep going.

“If Your law had not been my delight, then I would have perished in my affliction.” — Psalm 119:92

I read that verse a few days ago and it was all very clear to me: had I not found my delight in God’s Word and intentionally rooted myself in it, I would have perished. Whether that death would have been physical, spiritual, or emotional…I don’t know. I don’t want to know. What I do know is that God’s Word has sustained me. Is sustaining me. It is my life. My strength. My song. My deliverance.

That is because Jesus sustains me. He is my Life. My Strength. My Song. My Deliverance.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and Word was God…In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men.” John 1:1-5

As the wave recedes, I am thankful once again that I have rooted myself in the Word. I am standing strong with joy in my heart, even as I tend to my emotional and mental injuries. This is only possible because I have been well-nourished and well-supplied for the future.

Is it any wonder we have given ourselves to the cause of the Bibleless people? If I know the One Thing that can truly save and satisfy, how could I be loving to do anything but work to ensure everyone has it? And how could I be loving to not encourage those of you who already have it to saturate yourself in it? There is no alternative to growth, to survival. The 180,000 million people who wait for their very first word of Scripture in a language they can clearly understand need it just as much as you who have to blow the dust off your cover every Sunday.

Why not start today? Why not open those pages and let the living word of Christ penetrate your heart and spirit. Become rooted. There is nothing more beneficial you could do with your time, both for now and for eternity.

The Mom of Littles


I’ve been parenting little ones for more than twelve years. That is a long time with have babies and toddlers and little people who need you to do most everything for them.

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I have loved it. Truly. It’s been more work than I ever could have imagined it and I am not immune from the desire (and secret plans) to run away and go on a cruise all by my lonesome self, but all in all, I have loved it. When life gets hard, I know I have little people who will make me laugh on a regular basis.

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That said, I am also really enjoying the new stage of having some older kids. Imagine…kids who can get their own water, wipe their own bottoms, and have a real I-can-follow-it conversation! Older kids are so much fun and it is so miraculous to watch their personalities start to shine.
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But alas, I am the mother to littles and bigs. And that can be tough! Sometimes I feel that the older kids get the short end of the stick because the little ones just need me so much. Sometimes I feel the little ones are getting neglected because the big kids need me more for school and because they can actually play a game that doesn’t involve Candy or Lands or Shoots or Ladders.

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So, as if the guilt of motherhood isn’t enough on its own, I get a double whammy! If I am being intentional with my older ones, I fear the little ones are missing out. If I cater to the little ones, I fear losing the heart of my older ones. It’s true, we do a lot as a whole family and the bigs and littles integrate their activities all the time. And yet, I always feel the need to clone myself so I can be all things to my kids (some for good motives, some for prideful ones).

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Every once in a while, our family takes the divide and conquer approach the the half dozen toe heads running around. This past week, Jason took the older three to Camp and I stayed home with the littles. It was a tough decision, and one we didn’t come to lightly, but in the end we felt it was best for all involved.


And let me tell you….it was great and amazingly difficult all at the same time. I sat there most of the week thinking, “I don’t know how you mamas if all little ones do it!” And then I remembered that I was in fact one of those mamas not too long ago and I somehow survived, with great kids to boot. I just forgot how much work it is and how little reward. It’s not that the bigger kids do the work for me when they are home, but rather, the dynamic is just so different. They want to play with their younger siblings. They want to listen to ALL. THE. WORDS. They want to help little ones get dressed on Sunday and buckle seat belts in the car.


Hard as it was and as much as I was missing conversations with people over the age of seven, it was also wonderful. It was so nice to not have a divided heart. I was able to just simply be with the little ones and be greeted with princess kisses in the morning and pleas for water spraying on the trampoline in the afternoons.


They are just so sweet and little and fun to be around. This season will be over before I know it and I want to soak it in as long as I can.

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