Today was a great day. Despite my man having to go to work feeling ill and despite the fact that I wanted soooooo badly to go back to bed this morning ANNNNNNNDDDDD despite the fact that I had to spend 25 minutes rounding up looking like a fool pacing up and down the fence line attempting to redirect and/or grab escapee chickens, (You've heard the phrase, "herding cats"? Yes, just like that.).

 And that was just the morning.
So despite the fact that I really wanted to bake some bread and instead the boys begged me to "help make something new", (We made homemade parachutes for their little men and had a blast), despite that I kept getting "mooned" today by a certain little boy (E!), despite that I didn't get a chance to shower or read my Bible like I wanted, the house was a mess, a certain little someone (Z!) had the "dropsies" ("oops! dropped a chair", "oops! dropped my cereal", "oops! dropped a bowl of spaghetti", "oops! dropped my gigantic heavy jagged jet on your foot!" ...okay okay so I exaggerated  bit on that last one.). Despite when I FINALLY made my bread and it was a fail. (Let me tell ya though, failed homemade bread still tastes better than store-bought bread!)
 

 Today WAS a great day.

 

Today, I chose not to yell, I chose to play more, laugh more and chat more with my boys. I chose to be more patient, more kind and more loving. I chose not to fret about the laundry, the mess, or anything else that doesn't have a heartbeat.

There was so much laughter today. Lots of hugs and kisses. And singing and dancing. And some interesting discussions; tornado fires, Z might be a composer when he grows up, Ike can rhyme, and E likes to give "spaghetti kisses" (Think Lady and the Tramp, though he's never seen that movie.)

But you know what? Somewhere within our great day, we still got some things done. A basket of clothes got folded, the dishwasher was ran and we managed to clean up the general mess before daddy got home. Without any grumbling! (But what if none of that had gotten done? Oh hey, maybe tomorrow!)

When B got home, he actually said I was glowing. 

Joy really does look good on a person! 

(Never mind if you're wearing flour and some unidentified sticky stuff, you're hair is stuffed into a messy bun and eye makeup is still smeared around your eyes from yesterday! ...Yuck, I know!) 

Every morning as I watch that sunrise, I know. I know God is in control and I have a choice. I can choose to be thankful and grace-full or not. Some days, I miss it completely. Some days, I get it right. Today was one of those days. Thank God for great days.

One of my current morning reads is What Happens When Women Walk in Faith (Lysa TerKeurst).  This sentence is embedded on my heart:  

"If you are a woman who honors God right where you are, 
you are in ministry."

This particular season of motherhood has been my toughest one yet. And, it's not going to get easier. I was reminded that day when I read those words, THIS IS MY MINISTRY. Being a wife, a mommy, a woman after God's heart. This is my life purpose. (Until God adds to that!) Waking up each morning with that on my heart, makes a world of difference. Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodness. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-control. (See what I did there?)



Today was a great day. Here's to great tomorrows! 

When He Became a Dad.

  

I've had the privilege of knowing B.J., my precious husband, since we were twelve. Practically babies. He was cute, smart, athletic and super creative. In high school, he was so cool, though in that bad boy sort of way. He was a rebel of sorts, usually hanging with the older groups, and always causing the teachers to roll their eyes. Everyone liked him. And me, I was completely smitten with him. I adored this brown-eyed, tall, quiet boy.

And the rest is history. He made me a wife, I made him a husband. And it was very good.     
Then. Oh! THEN he became a dad. While it's been an amazing journey, THIS part. This part is my favorite.

The day the twins were born. The day he became a dad.  Even through my labor, he was awesome. We will never forget those seventeen hours. Such tender moments. Such stress-filled moments. And, a moment of fear, when the doctors said "Baby A's head is stuck, we need to do an emergency c-section. Now."
B remained so calm. And when they pulled those babies out, his face lit up like the fourth of July.  I just knew he was going to be awesome. I mean, the man changed poopy diapers before I did. And I'm pretty certain he changed most of them for the two weeks following. I fell in love with him all over again.

 Bringing babies home. We became a team like never before. There was no hesitation; I fed one, he took care of the other. And then, trade. There was no question, no complaints. Other than to the babies about their lack of comprehending day and night routine.
He was never hesitant to hold them, both of them. It was precious. And once the twins started sitting up, he was down there with them, playing cars, rolling balls, mesmerizing them with his silly faces. It's always been a riot watching him play with our kids.


We were both pleasantly surprised when we learned we were pregnant again. Another boy at that. [insert hysterical laughter here] Thank you Jesus.



This man has been my rock through these little years. For the first year of parenting, he would text me frequently, "Just breathe momma."
I will never forget that. I will never forget how compassionate he was our first year with two babies. And how strong he has been since. How many times I have broken down and he has stepped up. How he makes time for me and our boys. How his job can be so physically demanding, so stressful, yet, he comes home and manages to wrestle and play and be creative with our little ones.




Every day. He works hard to make a good life for us. He does it for us. I know it's not easy. I know the world is tough and cruel and demanding and enticing and says, "ditch the tough stuff, just do what you want." But he strives to be different. He is striving, always against the grain, to create a new legacy for his boys. One that will be rooted in faith, family, love, integrity and courage. I am extremely proud of this man. I am thankful to be his wife and the mother of his children. And in the beautiful chaos that is our wonderful loud and busy life, I don't tell him enough.

So I dedicate this post to you, B. 

 You are loved. You are blessed and you have blessed my life. Thank you.

Happy Father's Day my love.

...And a note to all the dads who are blessing their families and children, thank you. For being courageous enough to go against what the world tells you and bravely loving and being present for your families. Happy Father's Day!