A Look Back

I haven't sent out Christmas cards or letters in years. Not really because I didn't want to, but because I was never really sure what to say, then time always got away. However, as I sit here in one of the last days of 2016 I feel like I have things to reflect on.

I sit here realizing that I'm less than one week away from my babies turning two. TWO?! How on earth did that happen? When and where did that year go? Wasn't I just having these pictures taken, wondering how they turned ONE?

Don't blink, it happens too quick. My last babies, my last little bits of clay to help mold. It's amazing how fast they've grown, how much they've changed over this last year.

In fact, it's amazing to think of all of the things that have happened and changed in the last year in general. We started January out with a bang. The twins turned one, and then a week and a half later I landed in the hospital for an emergency surgery. That was an experience. I didn't need the appendectomy that I had, but it happened and my recovery took a bit longer than expected. All things happen for a reason, apparently the reason that I needed to have that surgery was so that I could meet the lady that became one of my best friends. That God, He's a funny guy! 

Speaking of God, our church life changed in January. Our pastor left and lots of things began to change within the church. We're still trying to find a place to call our home church. This change was one of the hardest for me this year. When you struggle to find a place to call home, it makes lots of areas of your life harder. Honestly, I miss the fellowship and conviction that I always found. This is the second time in our marriage that we've been on the hunt for a home church. I have faith that there's a reason that we're searching, and that we'll find where we belong, but it's hard. I think that God is trying to remind me to rely more on Him and less on how I think things need to be.

This past year I also started this blog (see my first post here). I really started it as an outlet for me, but I think that through some of it, it's resonated with others as well. It's something that I've enjoyed doing and hope that as my children grow, they will look back and learn a lot about their mom and their lives.

The next couple of months we celebrated Rob's birthday and then Maui's. Maui's birthday, that's another moment in the don't blink department. My first baby turned eight. I sound like every parent that ever lived, but how did she get so big? Shortly after her birthday she had her tonsils taken out after having tested positive for strep for six months in a row. 

In May, I had the wonderful opportunity to go on a trip with my sisters to Mexico, it was A Trip To Remember. Rob and I celebrated our eleventh anniversary in May also, time sure flies when you're having fun (and when you've got a love like this). We went and saw one of our favorites, Kenny Chesney a little later in the summer to celebrate.

We spent a large part of our summer at my dad's enjoying his pond. The kids all found new confidence in the water this year. It was fun to watch them enjoy get excited every time I said we're going to Papa's. 

I tried to really slow down and appreciate the tiny hands, the big messes, the smiles, and hugs. I realize that every day, they are getting bigger.  I loved taking them to do things that I did as a kid and hope that one day they'll do the same with their kids. We danced in the rain, we fed the fish, we went to the park. Nothing extravagant, but it was life and we lived it.

Work was crazy for me with people retiring and moving on. Finding the right people for the job kept me hopping for a while! I did before, but I appreciated my staff even more after those couple of months! I needed to remember my own life lessons from a doughnut and a puzzle!

We celebrated my grandma's 70th birthday in July with a surprise party. The look on her face and to see how happy she was to be with those that she loves was one that I hope I never forget. 

August came and we celebrated lots of birthdays. My niece turned one! Rob and I went to the Ozarks with some friends. It was my first, but hopefully not last, trip there.

Also in August came a broken heart. A broken heart that I'm still working through. I'm still trying to understand. I'm still trying to remember to trust God in this one because it's hard. I still cry. I still feel sad, and I can't explain it. Loss is tough. It teaches us lessons. It reminds us of what's important. It reminds us not to hold grudges because we never know what tomorrow holds. I'm trying to remember that we reap what we sow and cherish the memories that I've got to have.

In September Rob and I were able to get away. We took a long weekend and went to Knoxville and hit Nashville for the first time. It was nice to get away together. It's something that we don't do nearly enough, but I enjoyed every second. 

And because it seemed to be the thing to do this year, Bry had surgery as well. I'm not sure why, but her thirty minute procedure had me more nervous and worried than any of the others. Thankfully I've got some good friends that reminded me where I needed to lay those fears (at God's feet in case you were wondering).

I also started on a fitness journey and became a coach with Beachbody. I honestly don't remember the last time I felt this good about myself!

In October I was able to run up to Iowa and surprise my sister Heather for her 30th birthday (yes, you may all be jealous because I have a husband that rocks and can handle the house in my absence)!

I also celebrated a birthday. Another year, another gift, another reason to be thankful!

I feel like I've started to come into my own this year. I'm no longer afraid of what others may think about who I am or what I've been through (I'm not fooling anybody). I've found the confidence and freedom that I needed to make me a better person. Hopefully in the long run, it's made me a better wife, mom, and servant of God too.

In November my sweet Brylynn turned three. She's so full of life and I'm amazed by her every day. She's become such great sister!

Also in November,I was blessed to be re-elected as Montgomery County Circuit Clerk. I'm thankful for another term to serve in a position that I love.

I also had the honor of being sworn in to the IACC Executive Board. It is such an honor and privilege for me to have been selected by my peers for that position. An added bonus, I get to serve alongside one of my dearest friends!

December is of course always a busy month. This year I let the kids decorate the tree by themselves. 

We did our annual gingerbread house. 

We hit the Woburn Christmas lights (another childhood memory of mine).

The night after Rob and I took the kids to see the lights, my mom and I did the same. We went after we stopped by to celebrate my other grandma's birthday with a piece of pie (I also learned that my grandma's two favorite pies are also my favorite pies). I'm so thankful for every visit we get to have with my granparents. I know how lucky I am to have them!

My mom and I also went and saw a late night showing of Christmas Vacation, complete with ugly Christmas sweaters! It was a fun night.

We sneaked in a visit with Santa.

We celebrated Jesus' birth and loved the time we had with family.

Right now, we have a lot of uncertainty with where Rob's job is. I'm telling myself that there's a reason that we're being tested through this. I'm learning to trust God more. Honestly, I feel like enough is enough, but the great powers that be in our state haven't gotten on board yet. So I'll sit and wait. And as I sit, I'll learn to pray more and worry less.

As I reflect on this year, I remember all the things I have to be thankful for. I have parents and grandparents that help us more than words describe. My grandpa went through a series of heart procedures that each time became a bit more worrisome, but he is doing ok. I have a wonderful husband and we have been blessed by four beautiful healthy girls .

The losses, the uncertainty, and the struggles that we've faced and are facing I know will be ok. I'm far too loved, far too blessed, and very much God's child for me to face adversity and not come out on top (whether it be in the way I think it should be or not). I will not let my fears consume me. I will trust in God's plan.

Looking back on the year brings smiles and tears, mostly lots of smiles. I choose to focus on the good and believe the struggles help shape us into better people. The hard times are there to remind me to trust God, not myself. So as I reflect on this last year, I will take the following verse with me to the new year: "She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come." Proverbs 31:25

Here's to a fantastic 2017, I can't wait to see all the blessings that await!

When You Have No Words

As I sat there with you tonight, my heart broke. I listened to you and I tried to comprehend what you were saying. And I must admit, what you said struck a chord. Mainly because I'm guilty of believing it not to exist or maybe more so wanting to believe that it didn't. It's easy for me to sit back in my rural, predominately white community and think I have a clue. Our conversation proved just how much I have let the blinders of my rural life obscure.

I listened to you and I really had no words to give you. Sometimes that's alright because you just need a listening ear. But when we parted ways, my heart was heavy and I wished I'd have had the words. I don't have words for something I've never experienced, and honestly can't even pretend to understand.

I can't change the world or what happened to you. But what I can do, and what I promise  you, is that my children will be raised in such a way that your skin color won't matter. They will look and see you, the beautiful, gifted person that God made. They will see you for the person you are on the inside, not the color of your skin on the out. And they will love. They will love you for the beautiful person that you are. They won't judge you based on your race, they will judge you based on your character and even if they don't agree with you, they will treat you with respect. That I promise you. I promise you that because they will see it. I will model it. They will know that beauty, integrity, and worth is something that can't be judged from the outside.

I know this doesn't make what you are feeling better or easier. I know it can't erase the hurt that's been caused. I hope you know though, that not everyone is as narrow-minded and foolish as what you've encountered.

We've been led astray and we reap what we sow. I wrote these several months ago, but I feel the message is just as important today. What are we sowing? What are we teaching our children about the value of life? How are we showing that it's a person's skills that make them qualified, not their gender or skin color? It saddens me to think that someone I hold very dear to my heart has to try to explain to her children that to some, it does matter.

Call me idealistic. Call me out of touch. I'm ok with that. In my out of touch, idealistic world, I'll raise my children so that they don't have to listen to a friend and not have the words.

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."     ~Martin Luther King, Jr.

Yin Yang

Yin Yang: Two things that are seemingly different yet compliment each other to make it complete.

Have you ever looked at a couple and wondered how on earth it works because they appear to be so different? It kinda makes you wonder how they could possibly get along. The old saying that opposites attract must hold some degree of truth.

I've found the yin to my yang. Sometimes it makes me laugh at how different we are about certain things. Rob and I are a lot alike. We're both the first born and have the traits that most first born children do. We are both competitive (my sister bought us a card shuffler one year so that we would stop arguing over whether or not the other shuffled the cards good enough). We both think we have to be right. We both love sports (he a little more than myself). We both tend to be conservative thinkers. Yep, we're a lot alike, but we're also very different.

I'm a dreamer, he's pretty firmly planted on the ground. Which is good because Lord only knows how many houses, businesses, and children we would have if not for his more level head. He's my sounding board. I tend to feel and react. He makes me slow down and see the possible consequences to my path. Most major decisions I bounce off of him to make sure that I'm not going to regret it later. But me being a dreamer I like to think makes him see more of the possibility in life. We balance each other out like that.

Here's the other thing about him that always amazes me and makes me wonder how I got so lucky: he supports me without hesitation in everything I pursue.  I'm a perpetual seeker. I like to look for new opportunity all the time whether it's pursuing my education, house hunting, or dreaming of our next trip, he's got my back. He's sacrificed a ton so that I can pursue my crazy dreams (see the dreamer again), and he doesn't complain.

I often think that there's a reason that God put me in the position that I'm in and not him. There's no way I could wear the shoe. Nope, the first time you said something about my husband that I knew wasn't right, the fiery side of me would show in a heartbeat. Not him. He handles it all with grace and patience that I can't fathom. If it bothers him, you won't know.  Yin Yang.

The little things in life drive him crazy, but a huge disaster, he's got it under control. Me, I'm more of the let things go and life will be fine kind of person. I see the freedom in things, he sees the reason. I'm more of a glass half full person, he not so much. We need each other to be balanced and complete.

Yin yang: two seemingly opposite things that balance each other out. I think God knew what he was doing when he gave me Rob. I needed him, and I think he needed me. And when you've got a love like this, you've got it all!

Matthew 19:5-6

You Know What? I'm A Pretty Darn Good Mom

I've mentioned it before that I get that feeling like I'm somehow failing at this whole being a mom thing. I'm not a crafty mom and most things I attempt would make the Pinterest fail list in a heartbeat. I'm not a great chef, and my kids eat more chicken nuggets and pizza than I'm proud to admit. Heck some days I'm making more messes than the kids (remember What I Learned From A Puzzle In The Washing Machine?).  My house definitely has the lived in look.

So basically, I'm not Betty Crocker, I'm not Martha Stewart, and I'm not June Cleaver. I'm me, the mom that works a full time job, buys all costumes and party supplies, orders more meals out than she cooks (though I'm getting better on this fitness journey), sends her stained clothing to her grandma's for help, and whose house probably would be a pigsty without her husband.

But here's the bottom line, despite all of my shortcomings (and I know there are plenty), I'm a pretty darn good mom. Yep, I am. Here's why: my almost nine year old still thinks my kisses are magical and that they heal boo boos. All four of my girls' faces light up when I come home and they run to hug me. I let them make messes that I really don't want to clean up (hello PlayDoh and ice cream cones)! I know all the words to I Love You Through and Through, Pinkalicious, Llama Llama Red Pajama, and There Was An Old Lady Who Swallowed  A Fly by heart because at one point in time all four of my girls have loved those books. I make up a song about poop so my three year old will go to sleep (an odd request, but it makes her and her big sister giggle the sweet giggles that I love).

It's not an all inclusive list, but it reminds me that as I fix another broken bracelet or doll, wipe markers off my counters and cabinet, and remake beds and refold clothes that I just folded, I'm doing alright. I let them help make dinner (when I actually cook) and wash dishes, and it all comes with added messes. I do it because I love them and want them to be happy. I may lose my temper on occasion and yell when I shouldn't. I may get frustrated because I have a screaming kiddo clinging to my leg and I'm just trying to get dinner made.

I hope I'm teaching them to love through the messes and to forgive the mistakes. I hope through all that I'm not, I'm showing them all that I am. I'm pretty sure that being real and the best me, even on my not so great days, makes me a good mom.

At the end of the day, it's me they want to hug, to fix things, and to kiss boo boos. I know that it won't last forever because they're getting bigger. But it also tells me, that despite the fact that I'm not perfect, I'm a pretty darn good mama. And I'll take that everyday of the week.

For My Mama Friends

Here's to you mama. Here's to the hours that nobody sees. The hours of doing it all. Nope, you're not a single mom, but most of the time you feel like it. And it's hard. Damn hard. Not everyone gets it, but some of us do even though we're not in your shoes.

Your the glue behind the scenes. You're the one that gets called when somethings not going right. You drop everything and try to fix it. Whether that's running after a part, taking someone to the next vehicle, or picking up a sick kid from school, you've got it. You're there.

You spend hours making meals, doing laundry, washing dishes, and cleaning. You make sure everyone else is taken care of before you even think about taking care of yourself. Some weeks you're not sure when your last real meal was or when you washed your hair. There's housework, yard work, school, after school, pick ups, drop offs, groceries, the list really never ends. Yet you do it, day in and day out without missing a beat.

You fix boo-boos, sew on buttons, run food to more than just your husband. You dry tears when the kids are sad. You answer the questions that if you had it your way, you wouldn't field; they'd be his. You go to sleep often by yourself only to get up and do it all again the next day.

You don't complain even though it quite frankly sucks. You hold it together when the wheels are falling off and do it with amazing grace. You show love and grace without asking anything in return. You support a crazy life and his wild ideas and make it look easy.

You have your own interests and desires. You often push those aside to be the rock that you are for everyone else. Sometimes you forget who you are. You forget how special you are. I'm here to remind you: You my sweet friend are AMAZING! You are so much stronger than you know. Your faith and love are second to none. I admire the heart and soul that you pour into your life even when you feel like you're failing and not doing it right. You show grace and compassion, dignity and strength. You make me proud of you and proud to be your friend.

Don't ever forget who you are. Yes, you are the farm wife, the lineman's wife, the coach's wife, the army wife, but you are more than just that. You're the glue. You are you, and you're pretty damn amazing. Don't lose you. I see you. I get you. You are loved.

Reaping What We Sow

I read a devotional every morning when I get up. Some hit home a little more than others. I had one the other day that really stuck with me and made me wonder what I'm sowing.  This particular devotion was directed mostly toward what we reap in regards to our children, but it made me ponder beyond that.

As parents we constantly wonder if what we are doing is the right thing. We constantly struggle with how what we are doing will shape our children. Will we scar them for life with the one mistake we made? Are we too hard or too easy on them. The questions and the self doubt are constant.

When we are in school we're pushed toward continuing our education so that we can get a better job and have more than the generation before us. So we work through school. Sometimes that work pays off and sometimes it doesn't.

In life we encounter people from all walks of life. How we treat those people shapes not only who we are, but who they are. That's something that we often don't think about. The simple cause and effect of our life.

See I'm really good at pouring myself into my children. I try to give them my best. I don't always succeed. I want them to have happy memories of their childhood. I want them to remember mommy doing fun things with them. I of course want them to have more than I had. Most importantly though, I want them to know that they are loved. I want them to never ever doubt that. I want them to know my love and God's love.

As a child, my family wasn't rich. I never went without, or if I did, I didn't know it. My dad worked hard for us to have what we had. My mom was able to stay home and care for us. Both shaped me into who I am today. I remember the fun non-monetary things like picnics mom used to take us on. I remember dad working at night, but making sure he got us up every morning for school to make us breakfast. I knew love. I may have doubted lots of things as a child, but I never had to doubt that. I reaped what they sowed.

I work. I work hard. I'm fortunate enough to be in a job that puts me in a supervisory position. I am in a position to work with people from all walks of life. This position allows me the greatest opportunity to reach others. This is the area that I probably struggle with the most in reaping what I sow. I'm not sure that I'm doing what I'm supposed to to be a light for others, but I'm trying.

I've taken on a new venture in my health. As I've gotten older, my body is showing me that I reap what I sow. I've decided to sow to be a better me. Better for me, better for my family and hopefully help out some others on the way. And when I'm a better me, I'm better at all the other roles that I play.

Today I visited with my grandparents. Today I really watched my kids interact with my mom. I watched them interact with my grandma and my dad. And do you know what I saw? I saw memories. I saw love. I saw adults reaping years of sowing. It hasn't always been easy for them. There were times when they could haven thrown in the towel for a thousand different reasons but they didn't. And because they chose not to. Because they continued to pour themselves into me, my parents, my kids, I see it in their eyes. I see the love and happiness that can only come when you've truly reaped what you sow. I see it in the eyes of my kids and it fills my heart with joy.

I'm a work in progress. I want to sow better seeds in all walks of my life so that what I reap is that much sweeter. I'm forever thankful for a family that gives me grace to continue to try to get it together. More importantly, I'm forever grateful for God's unfaltering love that let's me truly see the gifts I've been given. Be patient with me, I'm trying to get better. I'm trying to be better in all that I do for you and for me because I know that I reap what I sow.

Galatians 6:7

Working Through A Broken Heart

I haven't slept well since I got the call. The heaviness in my chest is more constant than not. The lump in my throat comes more quickly than it goes. The tears spring almost anytime there's a lull in my day and my thoughts drift to you.

To some it may seem silly. It's been around two years since you were actively a part of this family. Heck it'd been close to a year since we'd talked last. Yet, I find myself saddened in a way I can't explain. The more I think about it, the harder it is. Perhaps it's because in my heart I always knew, hoped, and believed that you'd be back. This is where you belonged, you were my family.

I watched you for years. I watched you grow, struggle, fail, succeed, wonder, and hope. I saw you make mistakes, I saw you learn.  I saw you find a new path that had so much possibility for you. You were there at all of our family functions and you were just one of us. When you stopped being there, in my mind, I thought one day you'd be back. Now I sit here with tears in my eyes because what I was so sure of is not to be. You're gone.

I cry. I cry for you, for the life you didn't get to have. I cry for me because losing you makes my heart sad. I cry for your family as I can't imagine the pain that they have. I cry for your friends because they too have a hole, a void that can't be filled. I cry for my family because your passing has crushed us too.  I cry because there are questions I have that I'll never know the answer to. I wonder where you landed on conversations we had, particularly on your salvation. Not knowing makes me cry, so I hope; I hope you made that decision.

When something was wrong, you called us. If you needed us you knew you could count on us, and us you. My doors will forever be the "doors that Kris hung" because that's the kind of guy that you were, willing to help. That's part of what made us family. Us not being blood, not having constant contact, not even the fact that we hadn't seen you in a while because of other reasons could change that. You were a part of us, and we were a part of you. You were our family, and us yours, you belonged.

That's what makes this so hard, because you were loved regardless of time, distance, or mistakes. That's what family is, people that love you; and you were loved by us. I hope that you knew that. So I sit here and cry, because I know that part of my family is gone. And it hurts.

I'll always remember the love, laughter, and memories you brought to our lives.You'll forever be our Krisy Kris. You'll forever be loved, and you'll forever be missed. My life was better having known you.

We love you Kris, you'll forever be in our hearts.

I'm Not Voting For A Letter

As you know, I'm an elected official. I hold my job by people voting for me. I happen to run with the letter "R" behind my name. That letter doesn't define me. Nor should it. Just as the letters "D" and "I" shouldn't define a person on any other ticket.

Throughout our great nation, we have many important elections coming up. Each candidate runs with a letter behind their name. That's where the trouble begins. We become so blinded by that letter that we forget that we're supposed to be looking for someone that represents us. Just as much as they forget that they are to represent us (remember, Enough is Enough). The letters divide us.

Though I run on the ballot with a "R" behind my name, it simply represents the party that most closely represents the values that I hold. I'm not a straight ticket voter. Nor are a lot of the people that elect me to do the job I do. I have to have support from both sides. I vote for the person that represents me and what I believe in. I look for a candidate that works toward good government, not party politics. Anymore that's just flat out hard to find.

Unfortunately, we've all become pawns in this game. We're led to believe that in order to be a good contributor to a political party that we must prescribe to the sheep mentality and follow party lines. We have to drink the kool-aid if you will and go lock step with the leaders of whichever party we claim to be. We as Americans have done a pretty good job of that. We've failed to hold our leaders accountable, we've followed party lines because that's what we're supposed to do.

Rise up America. Stop voting for a letter. Vote for a person. Take off your blinders. Stand up for what you believe in, even if it's the little guy that the world says doesn't have a chance. I mean who doesn't love an underdog? The bottom line is you should vote for who you think will do what's right. Find the one that you believe will represent your beliefs the best (let's face it, your not going to find one that represents and believes all of the things that you do). Then get out and vote for those values and beliefs.

The only vote wasted is the vote not taken.

I haven't and I won't vote for a letter. I'll vote for a person. Period. I encourage you to do the same.

This message brought to you by the letter R. (Remember they're supposed to REPRESENT us)!

Why I'm Not Trying To Fool You With My Facebook Status

It seems to be more prevalent these days that I see stories about "why your Facebook status doesn't fool me."  The author goes on to explain why they think people with the #blessed status are phony. Let's be honest, we all have thought that or know someone who's life isn't as great as they make it seem on social media. But here's the deal, life's about what you make of it.

Scroll through my page and you'll see lots of #blessed. Mixed in you'll see the real life fits and messes too, but not near as often. I'm not trying to fool anyone with what I choose to post.  Let's face it, my life is as big of a mess as the next person's (check out It's A Sweet, Sweet Mess where I recount some of our ups and downs, the mess I made with Doughnut and A Puzzle, my own secrets in She Gave Me Courage, or someone saying something that irritates me Watch What You Say).  Nope, not trying to fool you, just choosing to make the best of what I've got.

The way I see it is that you can choose to let the happy parts of your life shine through or let the negative overtake you. I'm real. Lots of times before or after those sweet pictures of my kiddos, there's been some sort of catastrophe, whether it be a fight, a mess, whining, or a million other things, it happens. But I choose to not let those things be my memories. I choose to let the smiles, the love, the happiness be what I live.

Don't get me wrong, there's times that I struggle to find highlights in my day. I'm human. I'm not trying to fool you by saying I'm blessed, but I believe that I am. I believe that my salvation blessed me with the greatest gift ever. I'm blessed to have a loving and supportive husband. I'm blessed because I have four beautiful healthy girls. I have an extended family that supports us and blesses us more than we deserve. I'm blessed with a job that I love and a home. Nope, I'm not rich. I'm not famous. I'm not stick thin because hey, It's Not What It Used To Be.  None the less, I'm pretty darn blessed.

I won't be apologizing to those of you on your high horses judging my level of blessing or what you perceive my life to be. I'm not trying to fool you with what my Facebook status says, but here's the thing, I don't post for you, it's for me.  I'm just trying to make the best of this life I've been blessed with and whether you see it or not, I'm #blessed.

It Takes Work

A while back I read an article by a woman that had been married a little less than a year. In this article, she stated that she didn't believe that marriage was hard work because it's not hard work waking up to the person that she loves. I'll give her that. That part of it is easy.  However, I think she's wrong; marriage is hard work.

I don't say that in the "I hate school because it's hard work" kind of way. I say that in the way that like most things that you work hard at, you appreciate it, it's important to you, and it's valuable because you do work hard at it. Even athletes with natural, God-given talent work hard. That's what makes them succeed.  The same holds true for marriage.

Now I don't proclaim to be a marriage expert. In fact, I'm far from it. My marriage has had it's share of ups and downs. But what I've learned in my eleven years of marriage is that if I want this marriage to work, I have to work at it.  When we were first married, I don't think either of us realized how true this was, but we quickly learned. In fact, I'm willing to say I was foolish in my expectations.

When we went from it being "my" money to it being "our" money, it took work. We worked to figure out what we wanted to do with it, what was important to us. We learned we had to communicate with each other. We worked at it and honestly we still work at it. There are times that I think something is more important than he does and vice-versa.

We've learned through hard times, we've learned through good times. In order to learn, we had to work through things. We've worked through hurt and mistrust. We've worked through new jobs, promotions that we were passed over for, going back to school. We've worked through opposite shifts. That one was really hard for us. We're a couple that distance causes us to fight. So the more we're apart, the easier it is for us to nit pick each other when we're together. It takes hard work for us to refocus on what's important.

We choose to love each other through the good and the bad. We've went through many seasons with each other. We went from being just the two of us to parents of four. We're working through this learning to parent thing together.  We've worked to make time for each other, and at times it's hard.

We've worked through  the loss of  loved ones together. Through disappointments, through new friends and losing friends. Through new churches, new dreams, new hopes. We've been through times of uncertainty, awaiting test results. We've seen our family hurt and those we care about hurt.

Yes, being with the one that I love and waking up next to him isn't hard work, it's one of this life's greatest blessings and I thank God for my husband every day.  As two separate people, learning to be together as one is hard because you are just that, two individuals. We choose to work hard at our marriage, some days it comes easy and doesn't seem like work, some days it's really hard.  These hard lessons, the ones that make us work a little harder, make us appreciate each other more.

Just like that Olympic athlete, we've worked hard to get where we are. We cherish the success of our marriage like a gold medalist does his/her success. In order to do something right, you have to work at it. In order to succeed, we tell our kids you have to work hard. I believe the same is true in marriage. If you treasure it, you work hard at it.


For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" Matthew 6:21

Four Girls....

Those that know me know that I have a hard time keeping my thoughts to myself. I've been known to spout off not really caring what the repercussions were. There's one thing that I've done fairly well of biting my tongue on though, but I've reached my limit. I'm done shrugging it off and making jokes like it doesn't bother me because it does.

"Four girls?" "Yep four." "Wow, your poor husband." "Yep, he's pretty blessed" or "it's character building" is generally my response. But why? Why my poor husband? Why is it that having four girls or more than one girl in general is bad? When did having a girl for a child suddenly become a consolation prize?  Is her life not as valuable simply because she's a girl? When did having a healthy child become only exciting if it were a boy?

You see, when we chose to have children, we didn't have them hoping for a specific sex. I think if you're having children in hopes of having a particular sex, you're having children for the wrong reason. When we decided to have children, we hoped and prayed that we would simply have healthy happy children. Thank God we did.  Four of them to be exact. Four beautiful, healthy baby GIRLS.

See as a mother when I hear you say "your poor husband" I hear you say my child isn't valuable. I hear you say that she isn't good enough. I hear that simply because God made her a girl by His design, she has somehow already failed in your eyes. Your seemly simple comment sends a much deeper message to me and my girls. You devalue them every time that you say that and they pick up on it.

I believe that what children hear is what they will believe. We tell our girls how smart they are. How funny, kind, beautiful, etc. they are. We never say you'd be funnier if you were a boy. We don't change the beliefs that we instill in them because they are girls. We let them know that they can accomplish anything they set their minds to if they work hard at it. Who are you to undermine that?

You're seemingly harmless comment that I've let slide by for quite some time isn't just hurtful to me, but to my entire family, including my husband. What you're saying to him is that he shouldn't be proud of his daughters, that if he would have had sons, that it would have been more praiseworthy. You're suggesting to both of us that we have somehow failed because we have girls. Somehow in that one comment, you not only manage to devalue my girls and the female sex in general, but you also manage to emasculate him as well.

I'm sure you would never ask a parent that's lost a child if the loss was somehow easier because the child was a girl. You'd never dream of saying something like that to a grieving parent, so why on earth would you think it's ok to degrade a living child to their parent? Plain and simple, it's not. Every life has value and the loss of that life is no easier to bear simply because of the gender that was lost.

So yes, my poor husband has four beautiful, healthy, happy girls. There are certainly worse things in the world. You may continue with your narrow minded thinking, but don't be surprised if the next time one of those comments is directed my way, you get a more direct response of "yep, how awful for him to have four healthy, happy, and beautiful children that happen to be girls."

I encourage you to think before you speak. Perhaps I should take some of that advice myself, but this is one that I'll probably just let the words come on their own. My family is something I don't take lightly, and preserving my children's respect of themselves is tops on the list. I'm proud of my girls and so is my husband. Don't try to undermine that.

PS --- Yes, we know what cause the amount of children we have. News flash: We like it and each other!

We've Been Led Astray

A week ago I went into work early, my mind reeling with the events that happened in Dallas. I struggled to understand why it happened. I prayed that morning on my way to work and as I walked into my office for those involved. I wondered why. Why did this happen? Is it really about the uniform that's worn? Is it really about skin color?

As I walked in, a picture caught my eye. The picture has been on my desk in the same spot for two years. It's of me and my friend Kahalah at a Clerk's conference. As I looked at that picture my heart hurt even more. I guess by today's standards and on paper we shouldn't be friends. Running down the list, she's a Democrat, I'm a Republican. She's from the city, I'm from the country. She's black, I'm white. Here's the thing though, when I see her, none of that matters and I'm certain that none of that matters from her perspective either. To me she's one of the most intelligent, God-fearing, determined women I've ever met. I trust her with things I wouldn't tell many. Our differences don't define us or our friendship.

 

 

I wondered if I wore a uniform to work everyday if I would be targeted simply because of my occupation like those officers were. I wondered why we are so divided against one another. I wondered how we got to where we are. The more questions that ran through my mind, the more obvious the answer became.

 

We've become so self involved that we've forgotten that it's not always about us. You don't matter because of your job, your gender, your race, your political party, or your religion. You matter because God made you. He made you just as he made every other person on this earth and each life matters. All lives matter.

 

Society and the media have led us astray. We're fed exactly what will draw the ratings. We're fed what will lead to more dynamic television. Dynamic focuses on the "me" of it all. When we turn on the tv at night, it's not the good things of the world that we're being shown, it's the worst. It makes martyrs out of those that commit these senseless acts.

 

Yet we continue to buy into all that we're fed. We've never questioned how one man could shoot up a club and kill so many for such a long period of time without anyone knowing or anyone attempting to stop him. We've just been told that guns are to blame. We continue to believe that guns are what kill people. Yet don't hold accountable the person that actually used the gun. A gun is no more responsible for a death than a car is for someone getting a DUI. People make choices. Choices that are centered on themselves, clearly without regard for the effect that it has on others. Just yesterday another tragedy struck when someone killed over seventy-five people with a truck. Yet there's not a huge push by any political figure to take away our cars. Why? Because the truck didn't kill the people, a person killed people.

 

We're becoming sheep. We believe what we're told. We glamorize the violent protests yet don't show the peaceful ones. We've been led to believe that black and white can't live in peace. Our leaders and our media are dividing us. This isn't exclusive to white police brutalizing black people. Those acts are irreprehensible. Those officers should be held accountable, however, not all cops are bad. Yet again the media only shows us the bad, not the thousands that do good.  

 

Our President has the opportunity to unite us as a country. He could choose to call for peace, to support law enforcement in their capacity, to acknowledge that not only gay, and black lives matter, but ALL lives matter. He's called to ban guns from those that can legally obtain them because guns kill people.  Prohibition was to keep us as a country from consuming alcohol.  It didn't work. Those that wanted it, still found a way to get it illegally. The same holds true for guns. If a criminal wants them bad enough, he'll get them, Chicago is a prime example.  As a country, we've failed to hold our President accountable as our leader. Our media doesn't hold him accountable either. It all plays hand in hand as to how we've allowed ourselves to be led astray.

 

We've become accustom to the it feels good and I'm all that matters. We've put on blinders and never questioned how we ended up more divided than we've been in decades. The answer is this, we've been led astray and have become self absorbed. We've turned away from the principles that our country was founded on. We've cut God from our lives, we've chosen to believe all that's put on the television, we've stopped questioning those that lead us. We've become lackadaisical. We've lost sight that all life is important, not just our own.

 

Somewhere along the way we've forgotten that we are to love one another. We've forgotten that hate divides and defeats. Only love can unite and conquer. We may not agree with each other, but we should respect each other. We should honor the gift of life, not shatter it.

 

It's time. It's time for us to stop being led astray. Stand up. Ask question. Unite. Love.

 

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."     ~Martin Luther King, Jr.

"Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another." John 13: 34

Enough Is Enough

I ran across a notice that our newspaper along with many others throughout the state are devoting the front page of Thursday's paper to an editorial on the budget impass. It jogged my memory that a little less than a year ago I introduced my family to the powers that be in the State of Illinois for the same antics that are still ongoing (you can see my post here Get It Together ). I may not have a front page of a newspaper to dedicate to an editorial, but I do have an opinion on our situation.

Governor Rauner:

You are failing. You are choosing to put your energy into fights that are going nowhere fast. You had and have the opportunity to help correct the budgetary issues in our state. You could have accomplished much in leading our state in a new direction, but instead of taking an approach that could accomplish that, you have tried to strong arm your way through. It's not working. As a Republican, you are hurting the party. As a leader you are dividing, threatening, and quite frankly using corrosion in an attempt to get your way. Unfortunately, you're proving that you too are just as corrupt as those that preceded you.

Now you're choosing to try to continue to blame state employees and quite frankly screw them for the budget issues. Let's call a spade a spade shall we? It's not the state employees fault that the Legislature failed to do their job. They failed to make a budget. They've failed for years to fund pensions. These are failures that the employees are not responsible for. Now you're failing. You're failing to compromise. The strong arm approach will in no way benefit our state. If you push to a strike, who wins? You? The employees? Those losing services? Families? No, we all lose. Swallow your pride. Realize that this isn't some trophy for you to hang on your wall or another notch on your belt of accomplishments. These are REAL people and REAL lives that you're affecting.

I realize that compromise is a necessity from both sides and I don't take that for granted. As a leader, you have a duty to set an example. To be in the forefront of situation and work for the good of all involved. Honestly your approach isn't one that exemplifies the traits of a good leader.

Members of the House and Senate:

Stop. Just stop. Stop falling lock step with your party. It's embarrassing. You're not there to fall in line. You're there to represent. Do that. Represent your constituents without fear of what will be taken from you by your party leaders. We didn't elect you to represent them or your own interests, we elected you to represent us. You're not. You're failing and failing miserably.  As a whole you too are embarrassing. You too should be ashamed of yourselves.

Your failure to reach a budget because of your pride, your corruption, your fears of those higher up than you is utterly ridiculous. You have went one entire year without a budget. You stand to have schools shut down, people laid off, and a state (which you are supposed to proudly represent) in shambles.

As an elected official, I would be embarrassed to have my name hanging on a door that I've failed so miserably to fulfill my obligations to. Your names hang on the State of Illinois as representation of the citizens you're supposed to represent. Again, REAL people, REAL lives your affecting.

At this point, I'd like to reintroduce you to the family that's going to be hurt by the failures of the elite. I introduced them a year ago, but just in case you forgot, I'd like to remind you. Again, please feel free to share with your colleagues so that they can see the REAL people that your failures affect.

Maui, age 8. She will be starting third grade this fall. She loves art, soccer, swimming, Star Wars, and playing with her sisters. She's smart, fearless, beautiful from the inside out and loves Jesus with all her heart.

Brylynn, age 2. She has just started coming into her own. She has the best personality and facial expressions that you'll ever find. She is smart as a whip, beautiful, loves Mickey Mouse, Bubble Guppies, and Star Wars Rebels (mostly because her big sister does). She's a free spirit and marches to her own beat. She recently decided that she loves to go swimming.

Aspen, age 18 months. She's a little chatter box. She loves to give kisses and is a social butterfly. She's our little wanderer. She's silly, beautiful, and sweet. She has no fear and loves to be read to much like all of her sisters. She loves playing in the sand and water.

Afton, age 18 months. She's determined. She always is on a mission and won't stop until she gets it done. She gives the best hugs, won't go unnoticed, is beautiful, and oh so funny. She loves to slide and go on four wheeler rides.

Rob, age 42. He's one of the many employees who's lives you're toying with. He's a great daddy and husband. Works hard and does more around the house than anyone realizes. He loves Tennessee Volunteers football and St Louis Cardinals baseball.

Holly, age 33. I'm the wife and mom to these wonderful people. I'm an elected official who tries hard to do the job I've been elected to do (yep, elected and choosing to do the job). I love my family, house hunting, Cardinals baseball, and being in the country.

 

We are a REAL family that your political games are hurting. There's thousands more. Look at us. Look at them. Look at yourself and decide. Decide if lining your pockets, protecting your pride and your position, and political maneuvering is really worth destroying families like mine.

 

Enough with the political games. Enough of your pride. Enough of your threats. Enough is enough. Do your job. You get paid and paid well to do what you're so painfully failing at. Get it together Springfield, we're depending on you.

She Gave Me Courage

This is hard to write about. In fact, the story I'm going to share, I've never shared with anyone before; not my husband, my best friend, or my mom. Why? Shame and fear of judgment.  However, the Stanford rape victim gave me the courage and reminder that I needed, that some secrets aren't meant to be kept. This is my story:

I was in college. I knew "Kenny." He was popular, fun, played sports, had an outgoing personality, and a head full of crazy hair. We had flirted.  One night at a party at a house off campus, we met up. We all were drinking and having a good time. That's about where I stopped remembering the fun or much of anything.

I remember waking up and being in an upstairs bedroom (I assume it was his). I remember him being next to me. I remember him getting on top of me. I remember telling him no. I also remember that not mattering. I didn't fight. Honestly, I don't know that I had the coordination to do so had I tried. I remember waiting for him to fall asleep after he finished so I could leave.

I went to the restroom before I left and hoped to find the tampon that I knew I had been wearing. I couldn't.  I remember going down the stairs in the dawn hours and trying to reorient myself with where I was so I could walk back to my dorm room. I remember my pants being wet between my legs. I remember being cold. I remember hoping I could walk fast enough that no one would see me. I remember being embarrassed at the thought of someone seeing me like that; hungover, dirty, blood soaked, cold, disoriented.

It took two day before I found the tampon that I knew I had been wearing. Thank God I didn't get TSS from it being in me for that long. Yes, two days it took for my body to expel it because someone had sex with me after I said no. I never said anything to anyone.

Blackburn was a small campus so it's not like I never saw "Kenny." We hung out with some of the same people. I acted like everything was ok and so did he. People thought we'd slept together, I never corrected them with the truth.  I've never forgotten the truth about that night though.

That's my story. Why didn't I ever say anything? There are many reasons. I felt embarrassed. I tried to justify it by asking myself "if I hadn't been drunk and on my period would I have had sex with him had the opportunity been there?" and the answer would have probably been yes. I chalked it up to me having too much to drink. Those are all problems. The truth is, it didn't matter what excuse I came up with to try to justify his actions, he was wrong. I said no.

People that know me will probably have a hard time believing that I let this sleeping dog lie. I'm more of a fight for yourself and stand up for what you believe in kind of person, not the keep things quite to protect someone else type. So why now? Why share this story from fourteen years ago now? I have nothing to gain from it.

The answer is easy and it took the courage of another person to remind me. I did nothing wrong. I have a right to say no and have that matter. I hope that by me sharing my story that some other girl/woman out there has the courage to share hers and not hold it as a secret that stirs in the back corners of her mind for years. I hope that she in fact, never keeps it a secret, but rather speaks out as soon as it happens.

I hope that boys/men hear that no matter what state someone is in, if she says no, it means no.  I hope that we can rise up as a society and not justify the actions of the one that violated someone else. I hope that we can stop questioning the characteristics of the victim and the situations that "she put herself in." I hope that we can stop changing the way we see and judge rape victims. I'm guessing that when you look at me, that's not what you see. That's not what I want you too see. But that doesn't change the fact that that's what I am.

To the beautiful Stanford rape victim, thank you. Thank you for being courageous enough to tell your story. Thank you for reminding me of my worth.  Thank you for reminding me that though I may have made poor choices that evening, it still doesn't make what happened to me right. Thank you for giving me the courage to speak out against something that I should have never kept hidden.

To the other women out there, don't be like me. Don't keep it hidden. Speak out. Be an advocate. Do it so it doesn't happen to someone else. Men aren't entitled to our bodies just because we've had too much to drink. Don't let that sense of entitlement continue to win.

It's a Sweet, Sweet Mess

Around this house summer seems to be full of firsts for us. Firsts often come with messes.

We were married in late May 2005, close enough to summer for me. Honestly, it was a mess. From fights (hello Jerry Springer), to theft (hello Judge Judy), the church catching fire (thankfully after we were all gone), and the sewer backing up into our basement the next day. Yep, it was all a mess. We seriously contemplated a fast annulment, life seemed to be easier prior to our wedding.

Thankfully we stuck it out and for the most part can laugh about those not so great firsts now. They were hard. They were a mess, but they were lessons that we could make it through the rough spots. In that mess, that sweet, sweet mess, we found a stronger love. Love that led us to some of the first that we take for granted and overlook.

Shortly after we got married we lost our dog. That was a tough loss for us. We had no children, Oliver was pretty much the light of our world. One of the first things I talked Rob into (against his better judgment) was Oliver. He taught us the hard loss of losing something you love.  It was hard to find the sweetness in that mess. There was a void. My lab that wouldn't let Rob hug me because he was so protective was gone. It hurt. Together we faced that first major loss in our lives together. It too was hard, but looking back I can see the sweetness that was us being there for each other.

Late that summer we got Tanner. The tiny little runt that we rescued, is now a seventy pound baby. He's eleven years old and loved by the girls in this house something fierce. Lovingly called Bubba by the kiddos, he's started making messes that three kids ago would have never happened.  I can only chalk it up to he went from being our only baby that got DQ ice cream almost every other night, to barely getting a quarter of the attention that he was used to. The garbage is not really a sweet mess. It does however send me a reminder that this sweet boy is only ours for a short time. Though the mess he sometimes makes isn't sweet, he is and I need to remember to throw some attention his way because we couldn't have gotten a better "Bubba" for our girls.

This past weekend we took the little kids to Tuscola and played at the park. I remember how excited Aspen and Afton were when they accomplished climbing up the big stairs and going down the slide. How excited Bry was climbing the rock wall by herself, and the huge grins that each of them had. Those are sweet firsts. It made me reminisce to those same things when Maui was little, and more recently her climbing to the top of trees and her smiles of accomplishment.

Afterwards we hit one of our favorite ice cream spots. We got each of the girls their own cones. That was a mess. A BIG mess. The twins left trails of ice cream everywhere they went, stealing hearts along the way. I loved watching how each one of them ate their cones and how much it was an indication of their personality. Brylynn is very meticulous in eating her cone, wiping her mouth after each go round, not liking the sticky feeling on her hands. Aspen dove in face first, enjoying every bite, dipping fries in her cone just to make sure it's good on everything. Afton scooped the ice cream out with her hands because she's a go getter like that. They were the definition of a sweet mess! The looks of happiness totally made that mess worth it. These firsts made me flashback to Maui around the same age and she preferred to eat her cones upside down, cone first.  Sweet messes, sweet memories.

 

 

 

The messes in life aren't always pretty (remember What I Learned from a doughnut). But I'm certain somewhere in all of this, I have the opportunity to remember that it's a sweet, sweet mess, and it's only mine for a little while. So we're going to play in the rain fully clothed, eat our ice cream upside down, and love each other through the ups and downs. Yep, it's a mess, and I'm gonna love every sticky face and soggy bottom I can...

 

 

It's a sweet, sweet mess, and I'm beyond thankful that God let it be mine!

 

 



Bigger

I remember when I found out I was pregnant with each of you. I remember the first sonogram picture of each of you. I fell in love with that sweet little pea pod and my heart grew bigger. I fell in love with each of you faster than I ever knew possible.

I looked over the other day at you Maui, riding in the front seat. Your long legs curled up beside you as you read. And it struck me. Hard. You're bigger. I knew it was happening and I remember thinking to myself "I can't believe she's doing this! Look at how big she's gotten!" But there it was, your sweet round cheeks that I couldn't get enough of have thinned into the narrow face of a young lady. Your chubby little fingers are now long and capable of doing pretty much everything without my help. Your scribbles of art are now true art. You have your own thoughts and opinions as hard as it is for me to grasp. You've gotten bigger.  Time didn't wait.

I see you, the bright blue eyes that could light up the sky and the cheeks that wouldn't stop, my Bry. You've always had your own time for doing things and your own way. I remember being worried that you'd never talk, only point. Now you say things with absolute certainty and use words much bigger than you should for your age. You can entertain yourself without me having to worry. You love to imitate your big sister and it's made you bigger. I'm pretty sure that there aren't many two year olds sitting around successfully playing board games, but you sweet child do. You've gotten bigger and it happened over night.

I remember finding out you were not one but two. The shock wore off and you were here. Aspen and Afton picture perfect. You were so tiny and I remember thinking if we just make it through this week or this month it'll get easier. Now you are both walking, climbing, and are all out dancing machines. I'm not sure where that time went. My last babies. The ones I should have rocked a little longer and held a little tighter. You're not babies anymore, you're big girls. You're bigger and it makes me cry. Not in a bad way, but in the how does it happen so fast way.

Each milestone you hit, you get bigger. I'm proud, I'm excited, I'm happy. My heart grows bigger each time. You've each taught me to grow in ways I didn't know possible. You've made me bigger in so many ways (my hips being the least of these). Every time I think I can't possibly love you more, some how you make me fall more in love, my love gets bigger.

My heart will probably always ache a little the bigger you get. It's hard for me to let go. I'm selfish like that. But you my sweet children make me prouder and happier with each step. Just know that as you continue getting bigger, you'll forever be my little baby. I'll forever look at you and see that spikey black hair and round cheeks, those baby blues and chubby cheeks, the tiny armfuls of love that I wasn't sure how to handle. Bigger? Yes. But forever my babies no matter how big you get.

A Trip To Remember

We'd been planning it for almost a year. The four of us, five days of fun in the sun. The time had finally come! Four sisters heading south of the border for some fun and relaxation. A rendezvous in Atlanta and we were outbound.

Like all things, there are highs and lows. All things come at a cost to some extent, there are ramifications and things that are sacrificed; even for the good things in life. We all sacrificed money to go. We all sacrificed time at work. We all left someone behind to hold things together while we were gone. The time had come and we were going to make the best of it. Things didn't go as picture perfect as we'd have liked. Four girls that haven't been alone together for that long in years, differences are going to pop up. However, I've made a choice. I'm not going to let the hard parts define our time together. Instead, I'm going to focus on what made this a trip to remember.

*Making each other laugh until we cried
*A sunburnt butt
*Attempting to stand on a "concrete" ball
*Successfully standing on a moss covered bird perch in the middle of the ocean
*My first foam party
*Avocado covered floppy hats
*Hair that made Monica from Friends' hair look calm
*Flamingos that may or may not light up
*Swimming 7 miles to snorkel
*Japanese food with no "yum yum" sauce
*Awkward questions that can only be asked and answered with those you love the most
*A shopping trip that we only brought about $80 total with us because we plan well
*Walking 5 miles (Heidi's estimation) to where the river meets the ocean
*Crystal clear waters
*Beautiful sunsets
*Tone deaf drunk lady singing Friends in Low Places
*More food than any person should see at once (or eat for that matter)
*Bubba cups
*Trying to get the perfect picture jumping (it's hard to do)

The list could go on and on. I learned a few other things from that trip. I learned that there is nothing as fierce as the love we have for each other. We may not like each other or the choices the other makes, but no matter what, we've got each other. We're willing to fight, to be a voice, and like it or not we're laying it all out there to each other. Sometimes that hurts. Sometimes those bridges take time to mend. The important thing is that even mending bridges, we've got each others back. There's no stop in that.

It's something that I hope my girls see and mimic as they grow. Some day, they will be the new "fabulous and fearsome four" and they will kick ass (each other's and anyone that gets in the way).  They will love each other through thick and thin. They'll put each other in their place. Because that's what sisters do. They love. They fight. They get mad. They forgive. They have ups and downs. But always, always they love each other with an unending love.

Though not everything on our trip was picture perfect I chose to remember it as a time that can't be replaced. I chose to remember it as time with my sisters that was a blast. Memories that can't be replaced and love that is unending.  I don't know if or when we'll be able to have another sisters' trip, but this one will always be a trip to remember.

Something Worth Fighting For

In life we learn to pick our battles. We learn what's worth fighting for and what's worth letting go. Some things are harder to let go of than others.

I often remind Maui when she starts missing Grandpa, that when something is so hard to let go of, you know it was special. It doesn't always make letting go easier to deal with, but it shows you the value you placed on it. Some things are gone for good (or at least until we get to heaven), some are gone temporarily.  When something returns it's up to us to determine how hard we're willing to fight for it. Some things are worth fighting for, some are not.

I'm amazed at how young the will to fight for something you value comes to the surface. Each of my kids have a way of telling (or showing) me what they want or don't want, even the twins who don't say much, get their point across and I know what's important to them because of it.  I'm equally impressed by the protective nature that each of them show when it comes to each other. Brylynn can't stand the thought of anything hurting Maui. When Rob or Seth wrestle with her, Brylynn is the first to try to stop it. To her, her sister is worth fighting for. That's something that I hope each of my girls value forever, each other.

I read an article the other day on the women rescued from Boko Haram. These women fought to stay alive in captivity. They fought to get out when people came to help them escape. Now they are being held in tent villages and unable to return to the lives they had before because they are tarnished. These women are fighting to overcome terror that I hope and pray I never know. They are fighting to save themselves, but there are very few willing to help them because of fear. These women are worth fighting for.

The women and children that are victims of trafficking, they are worth fighting for. There's a sign that hangs on the window of my office that says "our children are not for sale." No they're not. They should never be. No person should ever be forced into a situation against their will. Taking a stand for those affected by this is worth the fight.

I strive to instill in my children respect, honesty, and the value in standing up for yourself and others. Choosing to do that isn't always easy. It's often easier to try to fit in and not cause waves. I tell Maui to imagine herself in the other person's shoes and think of how she would feel if it were her.

I want my children to be respectful. I want them to be respected. I want them to know their value and that all lives are important and have value. It's not a matter of race. It's not a matter of wealth. It's not a matter of gender. It's a matter of God-given life. So if you've given respect, but you're being treated like crap, I darn well expect you to stand up for yourself. If you see someone that doesn't know their worth, help them find it. If you see someone being hurt by words, physically, or any other way, fight for them. Help them fight the fight. Let them know they aren't alone. I'd rather you get sent home for standing up for yourself or someone than you know in your mind and heart that you let someone do irreparable damage. Some things are worth fighting for. And my mama heart will be full of pride if you fight for these things.

This is a blog for my children as they grow. These are things that I want them to read and look back on and know that they valued the right things. Value isn't in what we own or how much money we have. It isn't in the car we drive or the job we have. I can almost guarantee that when I die, people aren't going to say "she was one hell of a Clerk and drove a damn nice mini van!" (If that's what you're hearing I've failed epically in the mark I hoped to leave in this world. Not to mention who really says that about mini vans?)  I find my work important and I hope that people think I do a good job, but that's not what I want to be remembered for.

So my children, below is a list of things (not all inclusive) that I hope you fight for with everything you have until your very last breath:

*Your faith-it is something that you should never sacrifice. It should be the foundation of who you are, which leads me to the next point.
*Yourself-always, always know you are worth fighting for. The person that God made you is beautiful inside and out. Never let someone or something make you devalue yourself. I hope that your father and I have taught you that your life matters, you matter, and God designed you with an amazing purpose in mind.
*Family-as you grow, you will find that no matter how mad your sisters or your parents make you, there is an unbreakable bond of love. That love is worth fighting for. Knowing that you took a stand for your sister(s) whether it be over a boy, a friend, or any other issue that may occur in this life, will give you (and your mama) more satisfaction than you can imagine. Mainly because that's your girl and you know nothing is going to hurt her, you'd fight for her no matter what. Know that each of you have each other's back. Be there. Fight for each other, there's a bond you've been given that can't be replaced and you're so blessed to have it.
*Freedom-I'm not the mama that wants you to sign up in the armed forces (because I selfishly would rather know you're safe here), but if you choose to, I will support you and be embarrassingly proud of you (fear not, I'll be embarrassingly proud of you regardless of your occupation). Our freedom is something that we often take for granted and forget that many in this world aren't even given half of the freedom we have. Fight for it. Support those that do. Fight for your right to vote and use that right. You have freedom of speech and religion. Don't let the politicians of this world lead you astray, fight for these freedoms always.
*Love-yep as cheesy as that sounds fight for it. It's not always easy, and sometimes it's downright hard. But when you find the one that will cover up your shoulder every night (even when he thinks you're ridiculous), fight for it. Fight for the one that values you and loves you not for what you can give him, but for everything that you stand for. Love isn't just a feeling, it's something that's built. When you find the one that you want to continue to build that love with fight for it.
*The underdog-the one without a voice, the one that needs protected, the one that needs help. I hope your heart has the compassion and kindness to fight for them when they can't. Do what you can to leave your mark on this world in a positive way. Helping those that can't help themselves is a fight you can take pride in.
*Your friends-not all friends are friends worth fighting for. Some relationships run their course and that's ok. If you find a friend that you connect with no matter how far apart you are and no matter how frequently you see each other or talk, fight to keep in touch. These friendships are important to keep you grounded and help remind you who you really are.

You'll find more things in this life worth fighting for and I hope you throw your passion into that fight if you think it's worth it. Never forget who you are. Fight for you, fight for God, fight for your family. These things are the foundation of who you are and you my sweet child are something worth fighting for.