Advanced Planning

 My sister-in-law and her amazing family are planning to go to Disney World in 12/2022. She has invited us and many other family members to join them and my husband really wants to go. 

It is difficult for me to think about this when, right now, we are struggling to stay in the black and we can barely afford food. So, in an effort to make this trip happen, I am starting to plan right now. I am going to try to think of... everything. I am going to overbudget, consider all Florida has to offer, and look at our options. I want a complete trip guide with Plan A, Plan B, Plan C, and so on. This will make it as stress free for me as possible, as we have a series of premade solutions. 

So, after I create some spreadsheets, I will need some information. This is a daunting thing for me and I am grateful she has given us two years notice... 

Virtual is Reality

 We are not in the Twilight Zone. We are in the 2020 zone. A year of breaking points, catalysts, and pivotal change. Globally, we have seen enough and heard enough, bled enough. Our planet is in transition, gasping and fighting back against her attackers. 

In the United States, we have seen the willfully ignorant scramble to cling to privileges they claim don't exist. They are killing people because they exist and denying that it is genocide. We have faced so many things this year alone, and now our virtual world is more real than ever. We are looking to technology to ease the burdens of our reality and our weariness. We are hoping it will keep us safe from the treats, microscopic, environmental, and violence. We are depending on each other more, though we are further apart. 

As we move into home learning for the five-year-old's step into formal education, I am incredibly grateful for the opportunity to homeschool. We are working on a Kindergarten/First grade hybrid learning model and things are starting to settle into an understanding, a respectful routine for learning and growing. I understand that we are blessed beyond measure, for this opportunity, for this time together.

I am also constantly aware that my safety and my blessings come with an enormous weight. The responsibility of my calling is a constant weight. A constant gnawing at my nerves. I must speak up for the voiceless. I must call out to those in power to take action and create a more equitable world. I must do all I can to serve those who are in need. 

There are more communication resources, more opportunities to enact change more power in the individual than ever before. Though, this power goes both ways. There is more power for one dark minded individual to gain a following. That means we have to be vigilant.  The director of a human-trafficking rescue program said something profound, that she is committed to "sharing as much light as we witness darkness." I love her work and her leadership, and her soul. We must act on the impulses for good, that we may be the light and ignite the lanterns of community, service, and love. Together we can drive out hate and darkness. Together we can connect with our consciousness, being virtually everywhere, while going virtually no where. 

I know that these thought of mine are not profound. They are not unique, not vital, not most eloquent nor succinct. However, if we continue to speak them, our chorus of encouragement might change one heart, buoy one spirit, spark one idea... and those are the little things that have the power to change the world.  

So, as I sit at the dining table of my friend of 22 years, listening to our 5 year-olds playing in the living room, drinking coffee and writing this, I am aware of my blessings and the great responsibility that lies ahead. 

No Fanfare

My return to writing is one that I think about daily, but try to damper. The world is full of words, text, thoughts, and feelings. Tragedies, both fact and fiction, and most a combination of the two. Comprehension of information is limited to the human capacity for consuming it. I think we are all near a breaking point in that regard. 

I sat down to list the tragedies and atrocities for the preceding six-months and I was overcome with despair. I return to writing for myself. I return to written words as a means of processing the pain and lifting the burden of it off my shoulders for a moment, just to collect my thoughts. I know that I will pick it back up and carry it again, but perhaps in a better packed way. 

I return with no fanfare, just as so many in this world live in pain and hopelessness, dying in obscurity with immeasurable pain. I return that I may give voice to their lives and voice to their cries. I return to tell the stories of lives. The truth and the fiction bound in perception, but tangible and sharp. There are things that are objectively true, resoundingly true, provably factual, and there is no shortage of people who choose to deny that truth on the grounds that their subjectivity is inconvenienced by it. 

But, that is a story for another post. 

If you are still here, greetings. If no one else ever reads it, it will still have served its purpose. 

What Are You Living, REALLY?

The issue of modern American "Christianity" is one that has been a hot-button issue lately.

I have faith in God because I have studied enough to know the history of things. I see no way around the fact that God is real. I have read many history books. I have also seen His love and work encompassing a magnitude of terrible things for the benefit of His glory and those who love Him. However, it seems that there are many Christians living in America today holding court to some white-washed Jesus that I don't recognize.

The Jesus of the bible was an outcast, a ragamuffin, a homeless carpenter who rebelled against modern priests, modern philosophers, and sought to serve the poor, the sinners, the lost. He said that He came to seek and save the lost. He bucked tradition, He called out hypocrisy, He loved the unclean, He dined with thieves, He washed filthy feet, He touched, healed, and walked around the Middle East for those souls the priests wouldn't even spit on. (To get technical, He rubbed muddy spit on them, but that was to heal them. Still, kinda gross.)

I am tired of the holier than thou, "I paid it forward in the Starbucks line." type of Christians I see everyday. They profess "Christianity" and advocate for things I can't see Jesus having supported at all; war, guns, nationalism over people, etc.

Many American "Christians" I have talked to want American to be a "CHRISTIAN NATION." They claim that the Founding Father's wanted that, too. (They didn't. There is proof they didn't. Many of them weren't faithful Christians at all. Many letters still exist about how they didn't want religion associated with the government at all. One such document is fairly widely recognized, the Constitution.)

Quick question: You want to explain to me how: You want this to be a "Christian Nation" but you don't want to take care of people?

You want the Government to be "Christian," but you:
... oppose universal health care rights.
... oppose paid family leave.
... don't support helping the homeless.
... don't support helping the orphans.

... don't support helping the marginalized.

... don't support helping the elderly.

... don't support helping those God commanded you to serve, care for, and protect.

... don't believe scientists asking for help to protect earth from the rapid onset of climate change.

... oppose gun control for the mentally ill.

... support the barring of immigrants.
... you support the bombing of civilians.

... don't support the Constitutional rights of others.

What is your faith in?
Where does it come from?

What do you think the Bible is about?

Are you serving God or are you trying to preserve some ideal, privileged life you are comfortable in?

You are not called to be comfortable.
Christianity isn't about you. It is about "CHRIST."

It isn't about praise teams, who wore what, how long the sermon was, nor any number of other things. There are people in your town dying of treatable diseases. There are elderly sitting at home alone all day, dying from lack of interaction. There are people in your town not sure how they can afford diapers for their baby, shoes for their kids, and food for the week. There are people here that you see everyday who need help.

Serve them. Not by paying for a coffee for someone else driving through Starbucks, but by opening your eyes, minds, wallets, hands, doors, ears, and heart to those around you.
Look at people. Really look at them.
Ask them if they need anything.
Get over your fear of societal appropriateness.
Get into the world.
Be in the world but not of the world. 

This was the life Jesus Christ, the man you profess to follow, lead and died for.
It isn't pretty. It isn't easy. It isn't comfortable.

It is just miraculous, inspiring, earth moving, glorious, and sincere. 

The Divide

The current political situation in the United States is not normal.
The typical transition of power often includes some push back and hurt feelings, but there has never been a time when the new president attempted to dismantle the Constitution of the United States to create a safe haven for themselves and the most wealthy. The current administration has no regard for the Constitution, nor human rights, nor the checks and balances our government is founded upon.

We have come to a point where a man who is petulant, corrupt, and likely suffering from a mental illness, is in charge of the Executive branch. He was put there by "Christians" and is now destroying our clean water, our environment, our education system, our economy, our trade, and our beacon of hope for a better life.

In short, the current political situation has killed the American Dream. President Trump claimed throughout the campaign that he was for "everyday Americans" and "average people" but he has surrounded himself with the business elite, is costing citizens millions for his personal life,...

That is why many people feel the way they do, like they are in mourning.

My 40, 40, 40 Plan

TL;DR:
The world is falling apart. I am a mess. Stress is killer.
I am embracing a new plan that is 120 days of Fasting, Focus, and Faith.
[Comprehensive info below and more coming soon.]

As I take stock of an ever less stable, unsure, and dangerous political situation, life in America seems to be growing quite bleak. I look toward the resistance and people fighting it with respect.

As I look around my own life, I see it falling apart. A marriage undergoing the trials of financial stress, a toddler, job insecurity, crushing student debt, technology dependence, and my weight struggles.  My poor health and lack of energy coupled with my weight problems means I am less productive than ever. My 2 year old has learned how to walk and talk, count, say and recognize the alphabet, and is now continuing his preparation for MENSA; trying to learn everything about the world by defiantly disassembling everything in my house. There is much stress.

I have been looking at ways I can reclaim control (if I ever had any) of my surroundings. I have this crazy idea that if I can control my focus, I can control my life. Anxiety and depression make for an incredibly complex situation where I worry about everything and make all kinds of plans for things I don't want to nor have the energy to do.

Also, there is the issue of Christianity. I am working on another post about my thoughts on modern Christianity, but succinctly I will state that I am repulsed by the Evangelical Christians of the Trump faith. I want to combat their hypocritical manipulations. I choose to do that through truth.

A 40/40/40 Plan. It is 120 days spent on realigning myself and my faith in the increasingly hate filled world. I will outline each one here then write a separate, more in depth post about each one. (Please note, the total number of days is not a literal number, it is just catchy. I am not counting weekends because those are dedicated to God and family.)

40 Days of Fasting
Lent + Easter: "40" Days of sacrifice and abstention for the purpose of growing closer to God through prayer. There is nothing I am changing about Lent and there are many great articles already written about it from perspectives online.

40 Days of Focus
April 17 - June 9: Having just spent 40 days fasting and focusing on my relationship with God, I hope to spend these "40" days in focusing on God's teachings about how I am called to interact with everyone around me. 40 days of focusing on a pragmatic set of principles to govern my life and my actions. 40 days focusing on who I am to be toward others.

40 Days of Faith
June 12 - August 4: Now, 80 days into this, I will have a stronger relationship with God, a pragmatic set of rules for my interactions with the world, and I will be setting out on the next phase in faith. Walking by faith that the Holy Spirit's guidance within my heart will strengthen me as I set out to create a new world paradigm for living as if God's promises through Christ were true.

Grace in Victory and in Defeat

Yesterday, in the United States of America, fear and hate trumped freedom and progress.

I cannot say this enough: DO NOT BECOME THE THING YOU HATE. Rise above. Get involved. Find ways to sew light and love. Do not just sit there and be complacent and defeatist. Now is not the time. KEEP MOVING FORWARD. - Katrina Kratzer 

http://myrosevalley.blogspot.com/2016/11/a-political-911.html

Summer Insanity 2016 (Part One)

We are breaking our summer fun into two vacations this year. We just returned from part one on Wednesday!

We went to Marietta, Georgia to visit my dad, step-mom, and brothers! We had a wonderful time!

Our Recipe for Disaster

  

Moving is never fun, but it is a real disaster when you are disorganized, unprepared, the place you are moving to is a disgusting mess and still full of the possessions of the three generations who've lived there before you. You can put timelines in place, make plans, and set deadlines. None of that helps when you have to rely on inconsiderate and incapable people for success.

Throw in a recently ill, teething, and confused toddler. Add generations of family who all have different motivations, with very little sleep and high tensions. Stir the pot with past conflicts, looming deadlines for getting our move finished, uncooperative weather, health issues, and having asbestos linoleum in the new house.

The recipe for Disaster.

I don't have time to write much more now, but I leave you with some pictures of the process and the new plan: get everything out of the old house and give up on having time to clean/fix things so we can get our deposit back.

The Problem with People

The problem with people is that you can't hold them to a higher standard.
You can hold yourself to a higher standard, but they don't have to meet it.

That is mostly fine until you have to rely on other people for your word to be kept and your endeavors to succeed. Then, you are the mercy of their standards and like it our not, you are measured by them.

Should I have to lower my expectations in order to accommodate those who are casual about their standards and who don't value keeping their word?

This is the point I get mad. I tend to yell. In search of other solutions, I day dream about giving them a taste of their own medicine. Then, I sit down with a tub of ice cream and watch a well written British mystery program. I try to solve a fictional murder, since I can't solve my own problems.

I'm sure there are healthier ways to process. I know there are more productive pursuits. Tell me though, how many of them involve chocolate, my couch, and Kenneth Branagh?

Yeah, that's what I though.

New Beginnings in Old Familiar Spaces

Glenn and Elizabeth Kelley bought a house in Lubbock, Texas in the 1970s.  They probably never imagined that in May of 2016, their great-granddaughter, her husband, and their one year old great-great-grandson, would be making improvements and moving in.

I have fond memories of the house as a little girl, visiting "Grandmother" and "Grandaddy." I married my teddy bear in a lovely ceremony attended by three wooden giraffes, a brass elephant, and a real stuffed baby alligator.

I remember being encouraged to play quietly with Max (the energetic toy poodle) while Grandmother watched the Price is Right and kept a running total of her would-be winnings on a scratch pad by her chair. I remember her being so proud of her roses when they were doing well and taking me out in the yard to see them. I remember chasing tiny frogs on the front walk after it rained for several days. I remember Max watching out the big front windows when we said our good-byes.

I remember the sad things, too. When Grandmother fell outside on some ice and was in the hospital, she returned home with a walker. I remember they day we went to see her and her eyes were yellow from the pancreatic cancer. I remember meeting in the house after she died to share our fondest memories of her with the minister. I remember my Grandaddy living there all alone and feeling sad for him.

Though a house is only building that provides shelter and privacy, over time, a house can become a home. It plays host to many life events and becomes more in the hearts and minds of those who've spent time within its walls. I don't claim to know or understand the emotions others hold for the building we are preparing to move into. I don't know what it will come to mean for us. However, I am happy that we will get the opportunity to spend time there and add to both the visible and invisible history of the little yellow house on Thirty-Something street.

Paradigm Shifts

I often find myself reflecting on past mistakes. I don't intentionally dwell on the past, but my mind just seems to wander there.

Thanks, anxiety. 

The Willow Tree

There is a new willow tree on my block.
I'm sure it's not new to the people who own it,
Just to me.
I've lived in this house for two years,
But never remember seeing the willow before today.
Reason stands that I've seen it, but forgotten.
Perhaps.

Or, perhaps my eyes were closed to it until now.
Maybe it came about last night, and everyone just thinks they never noticed it.
Maybe it isn't there now.
Maybe I need more sleep.
Maybe none of us pay enough attention anymore to things like willow trees.

From the Start

I have a teething 13 month old who still struggles with staying asleep and whose started pushing boundaries. I have a cat who is over-grooming and mowing all her belly fur off. I have a wonderful husband whose love I cherish daily. Together our lives are stressful, but not unhappy.



As another year begins, the world seems full of a hope that is different from that which I have experienced before. This hope is a well spring of something deeper than renewed plans to dejunk, lose weight, and do the dishes in a timely manner. These plans at work in my heart are about a complete paradigm shift from the life I've been leading to something richer in meaning.


My daily life has become a monotonous routine of moment to moment triage from morning until I can crawl back into bed at night. Daily struggles to do laundry, dishes, cleaning, feeding my son, cleaning him, dressing him, paying the bills, running the errands, sharing the car with my husband, keeping up contact with family and friends... I have felt like I wasn't living so much as being pulled along by the vague promise that someday I would sleep more than 3 hours in a row.

This holiday with my husband and son has been amazingly restorative to me. We've had13 days together before my husband has to go back to work! 10 of them are gone, but I plan to use up these last 3 with happy moments to restore us, fortify us against the long months ahead.

I have planned so much work for these 3 days, but I know that next week and the weekend, we will celebrate our diligence by resting before we begin packing for our move.
We have so much to do, but the hope of getting it all accomplished is much more tangible than it was 10 days ago.

I feel like, for the first time since August, we are going to get ahead of our chores, we are going to get our lives in order, we are going to do these things because we are not who we once were, but so much more than that. We are going to be who we want to be because we have decided to face responsibility, instead of deferring it.

We are going to work together to be great parents.
We are going to work together to be more than who we were before.
We are going to sort our belongings and prepare for our future.
We are going to consolidate our debt and get serious about repayment.
We are going to radically change the way we work together as a team.
We are going to move in April.
We are going to be debt free in 12 years.

8 Months of Mommyhood

I feel like I am swimming in the ocean of my life. Some moments are the greatest and most beautiful I have ever experienced. They are the floating moments, on the tranquil open sea. The smiles and laughter of my precious and silly son. Other moments I feel like I am fighting for my life and caught in the storming waves, drowning seems almost certain.

Between the calm floating and the raging seas, I find that I am not as good at treading water as I thought I'd be. From the daily chores that never seem to get finished, to the keeping up with all of the people in our lives who want pictures and stories of our darling son, to the errands, to my business, to paying the bills and doing the shopping, I find myself sitting and staring into the distance and praying that it will all miraculously get done. I just want one morning where all the chores are done, my son is clean and sleeping soundly, and I can sit down with a cup of coffee without the stress, guilt, hurry, or worry that seems to haunt every minute of the days as they pass.

I feel like we are out on the ocean waiting for a life boat or a shark attack, and there is no land in sight.

My son is perfect. He is healthy, smart, laid back, self entertaining, and the cutest human to ever live. I keep telling myself that there is no reason that life should seem this hard. I keep thinking that there must be something I am doing wrong, something I am missing, that will make this all seem less terrifying and manageable. Yet, here I am, out in the ocean of my life, waiting for whatever the next wave will bring. I am not handling it well. That is why I have been seeing a counselor, looking for some help. She has helped a lot, but not I am out on a journey to look for some other solutions.

I don't have any health insurance, and so I am looking for ways to help myself to be a better wife, a better mother, a better friend, and a better person. There are some books that my counselor recommended, along with some herbal supplements that I am researching for my various instability issues. I plan to share that information here, perhaps to help someone else, and to see if writing again can help me in someway.

Until then,
Blessings and love...

For the Season...

I've been having a difficult time with being a mother. My child is wonderful! He is not only the cutest baby in the universe, but also the greatest joy I've ever known. The struggle comes in the form of me not being prepared for him.

I was sick for almost all of my pregnancy. Very sick.  I didn't get to prepare a space for him in our house, much less make him all the cute things I'd hoped to make.  I'd like to make them now. I'd like to welcome him into the world.

The problem is, my angel has one flaw... he's really bad at sleeping. He's tired, sleepy, yawning, rubbing his face, and then drifts off, but only if I'm holding him or we're driving. He will sleep as long as I keep holding him or driving.

That leaves very little time for things like eating, showering, and laundry. It makes sewing a floor mat that would be super helpful during tummy time an impossibility.

This frustration weighs on me. I'm not complaining, simply expressing what I'm feeling. I'm so tired, but I still wouldn't trade my son for anything. Yet, after what feels like days without sleep, I lose my ability to be a joyful mother. I lose perspective.

I found a blog post by a mother who talked about things in life being seasons...

So now, my attitude is very different. Instead of trying to make time for the other things, I've let them go. Making things used to be my job. Now, he is my full time job. Making things is a blissful bonus.

I'll check back in when I can to share how it's going... until then, God's blessings to you all.

The Reality of Postpartum Depression

When the first eight weeks of life with my new son had passed, I breathed a sigh of relief. I finally felt like we were getting along well. I was healing from the very difficult delivery, and while I was tired, it was manageable. I was getting the house in order, we were getting back to ourselves. We had found something of a routine.
Then, around week thirteen, things began to change. The sweet, happy baby wasn't sleeping as much, he was crying all the time, he wasn't happy. Nursing him was becoming a dreaded task. My back ached and I was so sore from the long cluster feedings. He was only sleeping for an hour or two between feedings and was crying or fussing almost all the time he was awake.

I began to feel overwhelmed.
Clearly I was not doing a good job. He was sad.
What if I had hurt him in some way and didn't know?
What if he just didn't love us?
What if he knew we were terrible parents?
How could we help him to calm down?
Why was he so upset all the time?
What if he was really sick?
Why is he scared of every little sound?
Why was he so sad?
What if someone came by and saw how unhappy he was and called the police? What if they came and said that we were hurting him and took our darling son away?
How could I help him?
What was I doing wrong?

My thoughts began to spiral. I dreaded him waking up. I dreaded trying to feed him. I was anxious all the time. I wasn't sleeping. He would cry when he was hungry and my whole body would tense. My milk would stop. He couldn't eat.

I began to think of all the things that were wrong with me. I lost my ability to be objective. I wasn't able to reason. I began to wonder if I really loved him at all.

Everyone who'd been so helpful about breast feeding had said that when I looked at him, when he was hungry, my milk would let down and I would be able to feed him. Yet, the opposite was happening. I would try to nurse him, but nothing was coming out, so I would have to relax and pump and give him a bottle. I did LOTS of online research and called the pediatrician. The helpful nurse told me I should try Fenugreek. (It is a natural supplement that increases milk production and has the bonus feature of making you smell like maple syrup.) It helped, but only for a matter of days.

The bottom line was, he wasn't sleeping, he was crying all the time because he was hungry all the time. I felt like the biggest failure. I was eating more calories, taking the supplement, drinking 80oz of water a day, getting out and walking with the baby, trying to relax, eating oatmeal... and nothing was helping. I wasn't sleeping because he wasn't sleeping, and he wasn't sleeping because he was hungry. I couldn't make enough milk because I wasn't sleeping.

After encouragement from my dear cousin, we started him on formula. He nursed, then drank 8oz of formula and slept for five hours straight.... It had worked. It was amazing. He was full. He was happy again. The problem was that it was really hard on me. I had failed at the most basic of maternal responsibilities. I was the worst mother. I couldn't even feed my child. The next few days were a blur of overwhelming guilt, relief that he was no longer hungry, and marginally more sleep. Then, I began to question why... Why had my milk so suddenly stopped? Why couldn't I get the supply up even with all of my efforts and longing to provide for him? What was so wrong with me?

That is when I was told that I might have postpartum depression. Impossible, I thought. It starts within the first eight weeks, and that feels like ages ago. Then, with the help of Google, I began to educate myself.

I learned that not only can postpartum depression begin any time during the 18 months after delivery, but that it most commonly begins three to six months after your baby is born.
Why had no one told me?
Why did they not warn me in any of the eleven classes I attended before the baby came?
Why are women and their partners not warned to look for the signs during all of the danger months?

I was still in denial until I started reading the symptoms of postpartum depression online... I had almost all of them. I was weeping openly every time I had to feed him formula, every time I had to pump because he couldn't get any milk while nursing. I am still sad.

I am still irrational with my poor husband.
I am still angry much of the time.
I am still having difficulty getting to sleep.
I am still guilt stricken that I cannot feed my son.
I am still anxious all of the time.
I still check the bath water six times before I put him in it to make sure it isn't too hot or cold.
I still panic when he cries for more than a few minutes that someone will think I am neglecting him.
I still take his temperature repeatedly throughout the day.
I am still being a terrible wife and my house is in shambles.
I am still terrified that something will happen to him in his sleep.
I am still afraid that there is something wrong with me and that I will ruin his life.
I am still afraid that my depression will change his world view.
I am still angry that everyone else can manage it all work, school, baby, babies, clean house, and make dinner, and that I can't even manage to feed my son when it is all I try to do all day long everyday...

But now I know that I need help.... Now, I am getting help.
I am going to get better. Now, I can write all of this down and share it with the world because I am not going to let these thoughts, fears, anxieties, and anger control me. I am striving hard to defy them. I want to be more than the sum of my inequities. I want to be the mother my perfect, wonderful, happy son needs and deserves.

I want to share this with others to let them know that they are not alone. There is at least me, unable to feed me child, do chores, and stop worrying.

These problems are not normal, but they are common.
They are not healthy but they are not your fault.
They are not a reflection of your love for your child.
They are tricks your mind and body are playing on you.
They are temporary... they are temporary... they are temporary.
You can survive and provide a good life, be a good mother.

Now, if I just repeat all of these last lines to myself over, and over, maybe I will start to believe them about me...

The Science of Sewing

I have never been good at math. There is nothing creative about math. It is all regimented, ruled, and calculated. Three times seven will always be 21. While there is something comforting in the timelessness of equations, I never found them very useful in my creative world.

So, when it comes to sewing, my attempts have never been very successful. I aim to change that as I attempt to make a quilted mattress pad for my son's Pack-N-Play. After searching on Pinterest and reading many different tutorials I finally found someone who'd made what I was envisioning.

I am working from this splendid tutorial from Nature's Heirloom. While I love the design and finished product, I am going to make a couple of modifications for mine.

First, I am going to use two layers of cotton batting. Now, normally I would say that would be too soft and a suffocation hazard. However, I am going to quilt both sides. By quilting tiny squares to both sides separately, then sewing them together, I am hoping to add a safe amount of cushion and added durability to the finished mattress. My reason for needing the extra durability is that we will be using this for many different things at home and on our summer trip to Michigan.  So, I need it to hold up to lots of wear.

I am still trying to decide which of my favorite snuggle flannel to use, and whether to quilt squares or diamonds, but I hope to get started on it by tomorrow!

Then I will move on to my next project: Bibs with Ties!

Gearing Up for SUMMER INSANITY 2015

That's right, folks! We aren't letting the fact that our baby will only be six months old keep us from a road trip! Have we lost our minds?! Maybe... but hear me out.

My mom, teen sis, and teen cousin are planning to drive to Michigan this summer. Now, my husband and I have no money, so a free trip to Michigan to see my husband's family sounds amazing... However, that means my we will be 3 adults, 2 teens, and a 6 month old in a van for 18+ hours. For the first time, I feel the title I've given our summer road trips to the north really applies.

So, we will be leaving in about 90 days and while that sounds like an eternity from now, if I don't start planning, it will never get done on time. So, anyone ever tried some thing this crazy before? Thought, comments, and suggestions are appreciated!

Much love to all!

Update from New Phone

This year has been one of new experiences. New adventures in unemployment. Living alone with my husband for the first time. Pregnancy. Debilitating illness from pregnancy. Complete dependency on family and friends. New optimism in the face of all the other new challenges. And now.... a new phone.

The world is a new and scary place, but I'm now armed with a smart phone with a 13mpx camera to capture it all.