Category Archives: Our Life

{Motherhood Series} Finale: A Day in the Life of a SAHM

Over the past several months we have been featuring stories from mothers in different stages of life and with different motherhood stories. This is the final post in the Series: we all committed to blogging about our day – Today.  At the end check out links to “a day in the life” of the other mommy bloggers, too!

Monday, December 17th 2012

12:01am – I decide to go back to the kitchen and get the cough syrup because I can’t stop coughing.

1:15am – BulldozerBaby is fussing.  I think he must have wet his diaper.  He is saying something over and over but I don’t understand him.  The cough syrup obviously is working because I fall back asleep despite my concern.

1:45am – I kick nudge RockstarDad and grunt, indicating that he should go change BulldozerBaby’s diaper.  Ever since I stopped nursing BB in July he won’t let me do bedtime or night-changings; he still wants to nurse and will wail bloody murder if I put him to bed.  Ergo RockstarDad gets all middle-o-the-night baby activities.  I am very grateful and yet (slightly, secretly, ashamedly) happy that he gets to do it since I had to for the first 14 months when I got up every three hours to nurse…

3am – I think RockstarDad had to get up again.  I’m not sure.  I think there is codeine in the cough syrup.

5am – BB is wailing again.  RD gets up and changes him again.  I think he turns off his alarm.  He snuggles me.  Because he is awesome.

5:30am – I decide I better get up and take my shower before RD leaves.  Otherwise I might not get one.  (Experience is a cruel teacher.)  I remember to practice gratitude in the shower, praying for everyone and thing I am grateful for.  My mood improves considerably.  I start to do some yoga and get into it about five minutes when BB wakes up screaming.  I get him out of the crib and take him to the kitchen with me.

6:00am – I heat up some leftover dairy-free quiche (frozen in individual serving sizes) for breakfast.  I still have no appetite so I save the rest for RocketGirl.  RockstarDad decides he would rather have a biscuit, but BulldozerBaby devours his quiche.  BB takes his plate to the kitchen all by himself for the first time.  He is adorable.   Both the kids have chores: set and clear the table as soon as they are old enough to walk, help empty the dishwasher, clean up toys, etc. and RocketGirl makes her own bed. 

7:00am- RG rolls out of bed.  She has breakfast at the table and sees the drawings her daddy left for her.  (RD is a pretty good artist.)  RG’s in a great mood and I am so very grateful.  It’s been weeks since the kids have been healthy and happy.  They watch Sesame Street (without whining, hurting one another or bothering me – W00t!) while I work on the computer – checking emails, typing this, etc.

8:00am – I dress the kids and head out the door.  RG has preschool today.  I am grateful for her wonderful teachers.  She is so excited to be back after a week out sick. Continue reading

My Decision to Leave an Awesome Career

What makes a woman earning six figures a year walk away from her career to become a stay at home mom?

A dream.
Maybe a touch of insanity…

I had no great respect for stay-at-home moms when I was a single, unmarried, childless corporate neophyte.  In fact (I am now ashamed to admit) I thought that “those women” spent all their “free” time getting their nails and hair done.

(HA!  I so wish you could see me right now Continue reading

{focus on marriage} My Knight in Shining Armor

Ever since my husband and I began watching “Once” on Netflix, I have come to identify with Snow White more than I had ever thought possible.  My husband has had his share of dragons to slay these past couple of years.  And, like the fabled Prince Charming, although he prefers the simple life of a shepherd, my husband has had to become quite the warrior.


Image by Kizette

Continue reading

{Free Printable} Organizing and Downsizing when Moving Cross Country

When we first moved into our farmhouse I was convinced that this was IT.  We would never move again.  This is where we were going to raise our children and retire.  And that was how we moved in and unpacked – like things weren’t ever going to go anywhere.  (As was previously discussed in The Dream and The Reality.)

So – wow – imagine my surprise when I had to sort through all that STUFF to move into an *apartment*!  Although I have personally moved over a dozen times in my life, I hadn’t lived in an apartment since I was single and in my twenties.  We have two children now and a LOT more stuff than those days!

So here was my process for organizing and decluttering to prepare for the move:

  1. List everything that is ESSENTIAL – cookware, financial records, daily living items (toys, school/office supplies, etc.) and even bedding/furniture.  This list was updated repeatedly as we progressed through the clean and purge phases below.
  2. Identify anything that is garbage or can be donated/gifted/sold.  Throw it out!  Or put it in a big old pile out of the way – like in the garage – and, if you have a lot of time and the inclination, package it up into cardboard boxes or plastic bags using some sort of organized system.  We just tossed everything in garbage bags labeled “Trash” or “Donate” during this stage.
  3. Get a bunch of plastic tubs for storage items.  It depends on the time of year where you can get these for the best price; Halloween and Christmastime Home Depot and Lowes seem to sell colored tubs at discounted prices.  Remember to number EVERY box even that though it may seem unnecessary at this time.  We label every side, including the top, of every storage bin and cardboard box just to make it super-easy to see. Continue reading

The Dream: 100 year-old farm on a mountaintop

In the autumn of 2010 we purchased our dream home – a turn-of-the-century farmhouse on a 60+ acre farm – literally on top of a mountain ridge. I do not have words to describe my joy or the beauty of sitting on the porch looking over our dream.  I wish I could transport you to that moment and show you.

Our 100 year old farm house on top of a mountain

This photo doesn’t do it justice!  It is GORGEOUS!  Morning, noon and night.  As I wash dishes in the sink and watch the sunrise in the fog.  As I haul buckets of water and corn to the cows underneath a billion stars in the sky.  As I watch the kids play in the yard in the hot afternoon sun.  As I sip afternoon tea on the side porch watching the cattle graze on the neighboring hill.  In the crisp autumn evenings as I listen to my husband strum his guitar. Continue reading

Rockstar Dad

Rockstar DadAs you might guess, RockstarDad is a musician.  It isn’t his day job, but it is what ignites his soul.

RockstarDad has a beautiful soul.  It is like a low-burning furnance, steady and strong.  (He’s pretty hot on the outside, too ;) )

I am very blessed to have a husband who is this patient, loving and kind; it is a miracle in and of itself that he loves me.  The fact that he is such an awesome dad just makes him a Rockstar.

Now, before you get too jealous, RockstarDad ain’t perfect.  He leaves socks all over the house and does not roll out of bed spry as a jackbean to go get the kids when they are screaming at 3am. Continue reading

RocketGirl and BulldozerBaby

Once upon a time on a farm far, far away from the delights of civilization lived an amazing little girl and brave baby boy.

RocketGirl spends her days in a pink gel mask and cape racing from one super task to the next.  From washing Pretty Ponies to rescuing stray bugs RocketGirl is always in search of someone to help.  Her favorite missions include experiments in the kitchen and playing with water.  She also loves preparation for future missions including reading, writing, astral-navigation and thermodynamics ;) Continue reading

Change The Story

One third of the world’s children live in extreme poverty.

  • Approximately 143 million children in the developing world (one in 13) are orphans(Compare this to the fact that the entire United States only has 85 million children total!)
  • 20 million children have had to leave their homes due to war. (This is roughly the population of Australia.)
  • An estimated 1.2 million children are trafficked every year, many for sexual exploitation or cheap labor.*

As a parent I find these statistics appalling. I want to make a difference.  I want to help all these adorable little faces.  And then I get overwhelmed.  And depressed.  And I feel so … small.

What can I do?  I can’t adopt a million children.  I am struggling just to raise the two God gave me! Continue reading

Encouragement for the downhearted Mom

This week I was feeling blue.  I felt like nothing I did mattered and that I wasn’t quite good enough … for anything.  I read an article last week at Postpartum Progress where the author described it perfectly as evil little “thought monkeys” that go bouncing around inside your head saying things like “you’re not a good enough…” mom, wife, writer, etc., “you’re not smart/tough/fit enough to do …” x, y or z and “you’ll never…” achieve your goals/dreams, etc.

But then an amazing thing happened.  Friends started coming out of the woodwork, unprompted and uninvited, but oh so needed! Continue reading

Memoirs of an Almost Farmer

Image Cube2Farm Copyright 2012

I have always wanted to own a farm.  It has been a lifelong dream, a pursuit of passion for almost two decades.  I wanted, more than anything, to raise my family with a devoted and loving husband on a homestead in the mountains.  Single for one of those decades, I worked tirelessly to become debt-free.  Fast forward another decade through marriage, birth of our first child, challenges, successes and failures…

To one balmy autumn day shortly after purchasing our dream: I decided to hike to the peak of the tallest hill on our property with our toddler.  Her little legs tired out even more quickly than my aching pregnant ones and I ended up carrying her to the top.

The view was gorgeous.  I couldn’t believe that we really owned all of this beautiful mountain valley.  It was ours.  Our home.  Our farm.  And, after a few deep breaths and contented sighs, we headed back down the hill.

Unbeknownst to me and my little daughter, though, we had been overheard.

And we were being followed.

Stalked. Continue reading