We're homeschooling. There, I said it.

My little four year old is starting preschool. Which may sound completely normal, except for one tiny detail: I'm his teacher.

Granted, homeschooling is a lot less controversial than it used to be. It's gaining in popularity as parents are becoming less impressed with the public school system. I am one such parent.

I love teaching my son. At four, he is reading, writing, spelling, and has a general love for knowledge. He has multiple best friends, loves going to Sunday school and loves his co-op classes.
We go to the zoo about three times a month, and every trip to the grocery store is another chance to teach him about math, nutrition, and the importance of anti-bacterial cart wipes. He knows about weather and the intricate details of a car engine (thanks to his daddy) and that too much sugar can lead to cavities. He's a genius, in my totally biased opinion.

My husband and I are in agreement that we will take this year by year, but for now, this is what works for us and we're happy with our choices.
I've gotten a lot of flack for this particular choice, but as I have said since the day I became a parent, what works for us may not work for you, and that's okay. There's room for diversity.

I used to worry a lot about what people would think about our decision to homeschool. I thought if I didn't do everything the way everyone else did, I'd look like a sub-par parent. But gone are those days. I am finally comfortable with my choices, and I am gaining confidence that I actually DO know what's best for my kids. If you don't like homeschooling, then don't homeschool. But we have joy about this and we are grateful for this wonderful season of life.

Keep calm and go to Hobby Lobby

Sleep training. Teething. A growth spurt. All in the same week. It's the perfect storm, really. We've been trying to convince little Levi that sleeping in his own crib is fabulous. That all the cool babies are doing it, and that he will wake up so refreshed if only he rests his little head down on that adorable gray and white chevron crib sheet that I so tastefully picked out to match his gray and yellow chevron room that he never sleeps in.
I'm exhausted. He's decided that he will only sleep when I am holding him, and even then I have to be walking around or doing lunges or something similar. Jillian Michaels would be so proud. There was a time, I think 2:30 am, when I said to him "Sweetheart. I am tired. You are tired. We're all tired. Let's just be reasonable about this and go to sleep." And he looked at me with those pretty eyes and cussed me out. Not really. He only says dada and hey. But the WAY he said it, oh boy. He was mad.
I called Ben at work and just cried. He doesn't like me, I said. I have to go back to work and you can be the stay at home parent because I am a failure and I am so exhausted and I broke the pack-n-play because yes, I put my grown up self in it to show our angel that pack-n-plays can be fun for naps too. 
To which my husband replied "You what? Pack-n-plays are not for adults. I mean, why don't you go to Hobby Lobby? The boys will like the change of scenery. Go buy something pretty. Not for them, for you. It'll be okay. And babe? Maybe stop trying to fit into Levi's things. You're an adult. I know you're small, but you're not an infant."
What, you and your husband haven't had the exact conversation?
Anyway.  The kids and I went to Hobby Lobby. And you know what? They were perfect. Levi loved all the lights and sounds, and Lo loved pretending the cart was a spaceship. I bought some crafting supplies and kind of forgot about how weary I was. It was SO NICE.
 Now the way home? That's a different, crying filled story (why do babies loathe car seats so much?). But for the hour we were in there, walking around, up and down every aisle, we were great. I may need to go there every day from now until he stops cutting teeth. You're welcome to join me :)

Just do the next thing

 Confession: I get overwhelmed easily. I love a good to-do list as much as the next mom, but I tend to feel bummed when I can't get everything done. I'm a big picture kind of girl in that I often look ahead to what the next month and year will bring and what I need to do to get there, but I am also very detail oriented in that I like things done right. This is a recipe for disaster sometimes. 
Back in February I learned that I was having some health issues. I'll spare most of the embarrassing details, but what I learned from my doctor was that I was not absorbing nutrients. I was losing weight, my teeth were crumbling, and I had gout. GOUT! I'm way too young for that. 
Anyway, I learned that I needed to completely change my diet. I had to cut out what my body couldn't absorb and focus on whole, healing foods. I got a lot of flack for jumping on the "gluten-free hippie bandwagon," but when your dentist wants to charge you six grand to fix your mouth, you start to research more frugal options. I decided to ignore the nay-sayers and focus on what I could fix.
I had no idea where to begin. But now, months later, I'm doing better. It was completely overwhelming to replace all of the yummy foods I enjoy ( I love me some processed foods, I won't lie), so I had to just focus on one meal at a time. 

 Similarly, when my four year old feels overwhelmed about something (and because he's four, this happens often) I give him the same advice. One thing at a time. Pick up one toy at a time, and before you know it, your room will be clean (with some guided help from mom and dad, of course). When he doesn't want to eat his dinner, I change it to one bite at a time. I always joke with him. How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. And then he looks at me like I have three heads.
(No worries PETA, we would never eat an elephant, they are way too cute and wrinkly). 

These days, I am taking this advice to heart. I get overwhelmed easily with the future. Will we ever get this house fixed up enough to sell and move back to Orlando (my dream)? Will my health get back to a good place through my efforts or is it all down here from here? Will I ever be able to stop worrying about all of life's what ifs? I believe the answer to all of these questions is yes, just as long as I take things one tiny bite at a time. Just do the next thing. Don't focus too much on a vague future, because it'll probably be different than I imagine anyway. 

So today, my baby steps are to keep my kids fed and healthy, research healthy recipes I can make that ALL of us will like (and then actually make them, fingers crossed), fight the losing battle of keeping this house clean (I won't give up! Even if it is like brushing my teeth while eating ice cream) and hold and nurse a sweet little baby who is currently teething like it's his job. 
Here's to the next thing.
 

Sewing machines are for boys too

When you start dating at 17, you don't usually think "I'm going to marry this boy someday. He's going to be the father of my children and change the oil in my van and set up the wifi because I have no idea how a router works." If you're like I was, you think "Wow, he's cute. He's got a great smile. And he's just a tad bit of a smart butt and I like it."

It's weird. We're almost 30 and when I look back at who we both were when we started dating, I realize that we were babies. SO young. But we certainly didn't FEEL young. We felt mature. Wise. And maybe we were. But we were also babies.
We dated for nearly three years before we got married. We knew it was the next right step, and yet, it was a bit of a shock once the honeymoon was over and we realized that sharing a life with someone is a learning experience to say the least. I was a horrible cook. I wanted babies. He usually smelled like car parts. He didn't want babies. We were opposites. And a little confused as to how to mesh our personalities and interests and goals (it had seemed so easy when we were dating and all we did was go to the movies and hang out a lot). But, a lot of things worked themselves out over time. We both realized that we can't do this without God as the center of our relationship. I've learned to cook and meal plan and do his laundry correctly. We have the two most beautiful kiddos I've ever known (not that I'm at all biased). He's the BEST daddy. Gentle and kind and protective and fun. He brings so much joy to our home.

Yesterday, our four year old decided he needed a hammock for his stuffed animals (he has at least 20, and he just can't bear to give one away). I was going to research doll hammocks online to see if we could afford one right now. But Ben one-upped me. 20 minutes later, he had sewn a camouflage doll hammock for Logan's room, and Logan was to the moon excited. I watched my husband sew this hammock for our boy, and it got me thinking about how funny time is. 12 years ago I would've never thought that that super cool guy I was dating, the one with the extensive Beastie Boys cd collection and the fancy red car would someday be sewing a doll hammock in the kitchen. Just because our kid wanted something for his bears to sleep in. It made me grateful. Grateful for the heart of this guy I've spent more than a third of my life with. And it made me laugh at how many silly disagreements we've had over the years and how really, it all comes down to one thing: our hearts. Our hearts for the Lord and for each other and for our family and for the people God's placed in our life together. I've seen this guy's heart, and it's really big. And I am grateful.

Immeasurably More

A few months ago I was feeling pretty low. I had some friendships that for whatever reason, were fading. Ladies I once felt incredibly close to were drifting out of my life, and I took it upon myself to obsess over it.
Obviously I must be the problem. I don't have my stuff together. I walk around most days feeling like a big mess. My nails are usually chipped (it does no good to buy the expensive Essie nail polish if you aren't actually going to take the time to use it). My house is....lived in. THOROUGHLY lived in. My car is older than....well it's older than pretty much everything. So, yeah. I don't have it all together. Maybe THIS is why those friendships faded. Maybe they finally caught on that Angela is a hot mess.
I started to pray.

God, do YOU think I'm a hot mess? DO you think I'm a loser because I don't have it all together? Are you embarrassed by me? Am I a bad testimony to what a relationship with you actually looks like? Because I feel like if I only had it all together, I'd have more friends. Jesus, show me how YOU see me. Show me where I need to improve.

What happened next is nothing short of hilarious. Don't ever say God doesn't have a sense of humor. God opened the floodgates, so to speak. I started volunteering at my church, and the friends came pouring out (weird visual, but just go with it). Families started to ask MY little family to hang out. They wanted to hang out with not just me, but my husband too! We started really doing life with awesome, AWESOME people, whose nail polish was also chipped. I mean, probably. I didn't actually check out their nails. But I'd like to think so. Friends started texting me every day (yes, that's right, I text now. Welcome to the 21st century, Angela). God's done immeasurably more than I could ever imagine, just like the verse says. It's gotten to the point that a quiet day with just the boys and I is a rarity. I may have to scale back a bit.

So here's what I learned through my little freak out. Yes, I'm a mess. But God's cool with it. Because everyone else is a mess too, apparently (I'm on to you! :) It's wonderful to get to do life with other people who don't have it all together. And be careful what you pray for. Because God's in the business of surpassing expectations.