Mommy with a Bloggy {and 3 girls}

This is my ode to the last decade.  A very vulnerable one, this is my story. For some reason over the past month at every moment we have had we have taken every cupboard and spring cleaned it.  This is normally the behavior I displayed before I gave birth (don't worry, no more babies), a nesting a preparation for a new life.  If I want to be stupid existential and deep its actually symbolic.  Among everything we had, we had 6 unpacked boxes, they have been packed for 4years. They were mostly filled with personal journals, courses, books and stuff from my ministry days.  I have never had the nerve to actually get rid of them. I am happy to state that after going though them all I threw everything into paper and plastic recycling boxes, filled files and all. They are all lying on a recycle pile somewhere, it will all be recycled into new paper.  Hopefully after the recycle process takes place it will all be new paper that will go into books that will go ...

Sunday 16 th September 1990 I don’t recall much from this day at all maybe because it was just another normal Sunday for The Wood’s or maybe I can blame it on trauma.  But it probably started with us 4 girls waking up to get ready for church.  Our parents would drop us off at Sunday School and then come pick us up again. Although all my sisters weren’t of Sunday school  age around this time and I even think my eldest sister could already drive.  I don’t remember if this was the case or not.  Just a rundown of what I recall Sundays to be like in our home. We would then usually come home and there would be the most delicious and tantalising smells of a hearty home cooked meal that would smother you as soon as you step into our home. (Food is my Mom's love language)  My Dad would read the Sunday paper and there would be some country music or Elvis Presley playing in the background on our vinyl record player.  We would all sit and eat around our ta...

Walking up and down the eerily silent corridor of a maternity ward in a state hospital my heart is in a continual algorithm of being ripped and then being put back again.  We are drawn to the loud cries of a baby behind a hospital door. Processing the joy of new mommies receiving beautiful unexpected maternity packs makes my soul leap.  Processing the pain of two mommies losing their babies and one little baby abandoned by his mommy makes my soul ache with grief, for him and for his mommy.  A big part of her must have wanted to keep him as she went as far as enduring the pain of labour and delivery.  Maybe this was her only way of giving her precious son a chance at living.  "Little One", as your story becomes a police case and as your name goes into a system, may you know that you are fearfully and wonderfully made.  May goodness be the hallmark of your life.  May peace protect your heart and may your story compel us to rip ourselves from the...

Something that is a hidden passion of mine is writing.  I really don't prioritise it at all, I could give you numerous reasons but once I put them down on paper it just seems that my reasons are excuses.  "I haven't studied writing, literature and I am not a grammar fanatic."  I do feel insecure about writing so I do put it off all the time.  I really wish my brain had a recorder for all the short books I have written in there.  I tell myself oneday I will write them down and when I do try and remember these thoughts later they are gone.  Gone and lost on mommy island!  When I can't keep my thoughts in anymore I tend to revert to a long, boring and tedious social media post, I apologise for this.  My husband and a good friend of mine keep reminding me about this writing thing.  Not sure how it will out work in the future but I do have a few "things" (possibly a book, short book), I  can't commit to such things now, but maybe one day....

Okay so I am kinda obsessed with giving gifts and masonite jars. Put those together and I will be giving you a masonite jar filled with something. Between myself and my husband we have a horde of siblings and friends. So if I am not crafty, giving seasons will be filled with over spending and a gloomy heart. I love giving and I never want it to become a gloomy event.  I really believe you can make great gifts for many friends and family on a shoestring budget. Budget is key in our house as we are raising 3 girls.  I do think that we need to move away from the value of gifts in currency but rather see the value  that someone took the time to think about us and to give us a gift. Here are 3 different Masonite Jar gifts I have made for Christmas and Fathersday, hope you find them so helpful you replicate them. 1. Fathersday Sweet Jar Yummy I asked our girls what they wanted to give Daddy for  Fathersday and the resounding answer wa...

Dear Lexie and Lilly It is 2015 a new year, I tried explaining this concept to you but you are still to small to grasp what a new year is.   Here is my annual New Year letter to both of you.  You wont grasp any of this now, but you will when you are older.   Here is a few pearls of wisdom from me to you.  Some have  come through revelation, so through good times and some through bad times.  But they have been life lessons no matter the avenue I received them in.   My wish for both of you is to be happy and to see yourself through my eyes and even better the eyes of your creator who made you wonderfully and fearfully.  I write these letters to you because I know we live in a world that will break your confidence at times, you will meet people and accept people into your life that will hurt you unintentionally and sometimes intentionally.  You will have great moments of joy and great moments of heartache, that's life! I h...