Habits, Housework and Healing

For those who don’t already know this, I’m a real sucker for alliteration… My brain tends to makes sense of connecting things and the (what I’d personally like to think) Sherlock Holmes part of me is able to make patterns from that which can appear to be disassociated. 

So, very naturally, the title of this particular post is collectively a current list of my mental preoccupancy. And, though the three together could seem disconnected, I will explain to you how they indeed are not. 

The month of May is an indescribably overwhelming, wonderful, and crazy month for my family nearly every year. It has been this way for several years, and I have come to expect that it will always be this way. (I suspect this is the case for many of you!) This year it was a collision of five immediate family birthdays, family gatherings, Pascha, welcoming a brand new niece, and several additional events worthy of celebration including a couple baby showers (for said new niece), one of which was the largest undertaking I’ve ever collaborated in organizing to date – very worthy of the effort involved, and I was so glad it pulled off as well as it did! 

And in all of this everly excitement, the state of my house remained in a state of super subpar survival. With no dishwasher (as of then – it is currently a new addition to our kitchen and fully functional!! Glory Hallelujah!), entirely too much laundry, no energy to power through the necessary chores, and barely enough willpower to drag myself to the store to buy essential sustainance, I have arrived at the thought that May might just have happened with or without me. 

And now it is 3/4 over and I am left to catch my breath from the beginning part of May, feeling overwhelmed surveying all the scattered puzzle pieces of the metaphorical 4500 piece puzzle I have to put together to get life moving the way it was before. I feel entirely out of control in nearly every aspect of, well, everything. Which, I suppose, is not the most unhealthy thing in the world. It is a very humbling and realistic place to find oneself. Realizing you are, in fact, not in control of all of your Life is a good, good thing.

Because, I’m finding, in that place of Overwhelm, you have to stop. You just absolutely must. In order to figure out how to get back in Control, (because being Out of Control is such an uncomfortable feeling to us humans, no matter how healthy it is for us, which means we feel consequently driven to do whatever it takes to get back in Control) the natural progression demands that one stops, pauses, and (hopefully) takes a moment to reflect on why the state of Out of Control came to be the way it currently is. 

I don’t know about you, but I’m certainly a solution seeker when it comes to discovering that I’m in a state of Out of Control. I want to make a plan to get back in Control, to fix the problem, to make new habits and to take measures that will ensure that it doesn’t happen again. These are well meaning intentions of course, but then my personal nature gets involved in the mix and then you have a highly inconsistent (but incredibly inspired) person, driven to start All the New Habits that will fix everything at once, all at once, and you get a classic, vamped up Crash and Burn. 

I cannot emphasize to you enough how often this is the case with me. It appears to be an inevitable pattern in my life, truly, no matter how aware of it I am, no matter what precautions I take when adopting said New Habits. 

And yet, this knowledge does nothing to stop me from continuing trying. Einstein says trying the same thing over and over again expecting different results is the definition of insanity. And I, for one, am determined to not be insane. It is of unfortunate importance to me to appear “to have it all together,” whether I do or not. 

So my approach in establishing new habits with the intent of getting back in Control is a tentative one this time. I am getting to know myself a little better bit by bit, and by now, I certainly know that I, Natalie, suffer from the initial twitterpation of doing lots of new things all at once. Especially when I believe that doing so will make all the current problems or roadblocks melt away. An easy fix, if you will. A super solution. And it’s exciting at first, doing new things. So naturally, the idea behind doing it all at once is to experience as much excitement as possible! 

But now that I am aware of this tendency of mine, I realize that things worth doing are most often things that take time. And I believe that building new habits are probably no different. Habits that will stick, habits I want to become a part of me for the rest of my days, are not going to initially feel easy, nor will the excitement of trying them out last long term. 

I find myself recalling an applicable analogy my Dad shared with me a while ago – his observations on the differences between weeds and tree saplings. He said he noticed two directly opposing characteristics about each:

The stem of a weed is hollow and a weed grows very quickly, whereas a tree sapling stem is solid and takes longer to grow. 

Slowly formed habits are like the tree saplings. It is worth the time they require to let them take root in one’s lifestyle. In contrast, habits that are adopted too many at a time or too hastily are like the weeds. 

Slowly formed habits will be the ones that will test my belief in them as I am forced to choose over and over again that I truly do want to make each said habit a change in the way that I previously did things. And most likely these new habits will require something from me – change, sweat, effort of some form. If the change demanded of me goes against my nature, so much more will my innate tendency  rise up to challenge the establishment of that habit. 

So I have to want it. I have to want it more than I have before if any new habit is to fully take root. And much more, I have to go into this conscientiously in order for these habits to stick. Accountability, prayer, and a thought out and realistic (key word there) plan are my supports. 

For right now, the habits I most dearly wish to make are namely these – 

  • To wake up each morning right. For me, this means beginning my day with my husband, before children are awake, starting it off with prayer and a wholesome means of filling my soul, which will center and direct my day ahead of me. Rather than keeping on doing what has been happening, which is that the day just happens to me…
  • To get into a daily routine wherein I accomplish what needs to be accomplished when it needs to be accomplished. Time for my personal betterment and nourishment, homeschooling, housework, serving needs attentively. (Not in that order…Ha.) 
  • To make a habit of minimalizing a bit each day. My knee-jerk reaction to discovering I’m in the depths of Out of Control is get-rid-of-all-the-things!! Now! I am learning that in order to, hem, keep order, it must happen through a system of gradual, daily maintainence. My hope is that I can come up with a plan and benchmark goals to get there. 

Which connects with the second word in the title of this post – 


I grew up doing most of my chores every Saturday, with a few sprinkled throughout the week (making my bed and brushing teeth were an every day affair, no worries). And I’m finding that now, as the housewife of a little six-person family, sustaining that trained habit is just not feasible. It will not work any more. The biggest challenge for me has been namely laundry, and reschooling myself from the doing a load on an as-needs basis to a load-a-day-no-matter-what kind of habit. 

I lack all consistency in this wretched task. I’ll be dedicated for a couple weeks in a row at best and then the weekend happens or something that takes me away from the house, and the delicate and wobbly habit is back on default, which means the laundry sits until I remember it’s Sunday the next day and the boys don’t have any clean dress pants. (Really, no joke.) 

And my bathrooms…. I don’t know if I have the courage to risk the embarrassment I’ll feel if I go into that truthfully. Let’s not. You have a good imagination. 

As for dusting. What? 

Mopping – I need a good mop. Then I’ll be good at it. 

Vacuuming and sweeping and keeping the kitchen and common area space clean and tidy are pretty much the only household chores I consider myself good at and capable of keeping in order. Again, I have a small house. And I’m a stay-at-home mama (with four kids age five and under). This should be no trouble at all for me, right? 

But no matter how easy it *should* be, most days it simply isn’t. And that’s because these are not everyday habits for me. So when these particular household tasks need doing, it is because they have been building up and sitting over a period of time where I haven’t been keeping up with them, which makes it so, so much harder to summon the self-discipline to plow through them and gittum done. 

So for me, the housework issue is so much more than merely that. It is a matter of self-discipline. Something I practice much less than I think I do. And forming habits to develop that wonderful and fruitful virtue will greatly help my housework habits. 


It is so very easy to guilt myself over everything I don’t do. And sometimes so much so that it sends me plummeting down the spiral of Funk, wherein I forget all good things and become entirely absorbed in the Overwhelm of all the tasks I have to do that I “don’t have energy to do.”  


Again, self-discipline. Nobody ever has energy or desire to do work they don’t like doing. But side by side with manning up to the task at hand and plum doing it because it’s gotta be done, there is something to be said for giving oneself a little grace. Not so much so that you let yourself off the hook and pump yourself up for doing nothing for the sake of feeling better about yourself, but rather the kind of grace that gives room to healing from the brokenness that perpetuates this temporary state of life. The kind of grace that lets you take a breather, regroup and summon the gumption to follow through with your work and reap the reward of seeing it done. The kind of grace that sheds light on all that you DO do, as opposed to what you don’t. The kind of grace that allows you to heal by remembering that in this human state, brokenness abides, no matter how perfect you may want to be. 

Because, again, it is so very uncomfortable a place to find oneself in, that place of Out of Control. The funk of “I can’t” or “I don’t want to, yet I must.” But instead of willing this brokenness to stop existing, I’m going to try beginning to expect it. Not in a cynical sort of way. Not in a surrendering, giving up kind of way either. In a realistic, proactive way. Because if I expect that I will find myself in the place of Out of Control from time to time, I can accept (for lack of a more specific word,) it and come up with a plan to get out of it when it inevitably happens to me again. We all get worn down and worn out. There is no avoiding it. So instead of getting surprised and angry about the fact that it has happened once again, it’s time to do something about it and make sure I’m ready for it next time.

And in allowing for that grace to work, healing will happen as the more I train myself to keep a disciplined lifestyle, I learn to live (and love!) a fuller, more fruitful life. 

I’ll let you know how it’s going. 

How do you make new habits? What are your secrets to getting that housework or your general tasks done? How do you help yourself heal from your struggles? 

If you’ve made it to the end of this, thank so very much for hanging in there. This was a long one. 

May God bless you always and especially today. 

Stay tuned for more posts to come!


    Delight in Them

                                  • • • 

    I want to share my journal entry this morning. This just flowed out of the pen, somehow. And I will be rereading it every morning to set myself right for each coming day. 

    God bless you always, and especially today!

                                   • • • 

    “Today, I will delight in my children. Today, I will hold them and read to them. Today, they will know that I love them by the way I draw them near to me. Today, I will discover alongside them and take joy in their exploration of the world around them. Today, I will pray for them. Today, I will bless them with my gentleness, my patience, my willingness. Today, I will love them with my eyes, my expression, my touch, my voice. Today, I will be a living example of Christ’s love to them.” 

                                    • • • 

    Minimalism Part 2 – Toys and Clothes

    In one of my previous posts, Journey to Minimalism, I began sharing how we are downsizing and purging our clutter and stuff as we learn to be minimalistic. 

    The two realms of my household I most wished to bring back into balance after discovering the glories of pursuing minimalism are namely – toys and clothes.

    Now, you must understand, we live in a small house, so even though we have considerably fewer toys than in the average American home, it still sometimes feels like a lot in our three-bedroom, two common room house. Toys can so quickly get out of hand, even if it’s just books and army guys and some matchbox cars lying around. 

    When it comes to toys, my philosophy is that I would like for our children to grow up with a few choice toys that will stand the test of time, toys that are made of real materials or are durable and versatile enough to be many different things – whatever they want to imagine. A few examples: 

    • Lincoln logs or building blocks sets
    • matchbox cars
    • a collection of dice
    • duplos/Legos
    • puzzles
    • Anything that stretches their imagination and encourages make believe

    However, where books are concerned, I’m fine with keeping most of them for now, since we go through our personal library on a regular basis and give away the ones we haven’t read in a while that can stand to be purged. 

    Back to toys, I am trying to get into a toy rotation where the kids can trade out different ones (or collections) for something of equal value/quantity. This way, the amount of toys in circulation remains the same, but it’s like Christmas since the traded toys are “new” to them again. This system makes so much sense, and I have to keep trying to be more consistent with the rotation end of it. 

    And this doesn’t just apply to kids’ toys – adults have hobbies and interests that can blow out of proportion just as easily, if not more. For me, it’s mainly yarn, sewing supplies, thank you card collections, notebooks, memorabilia, sheet music… You get the idea. Currently, the yarn and fabric are under control, sharing one large basket, and that is saying something. As for the paper contents of my desk, that’s the next project for downsizing. 

    Now. Clothes. 

    This was a bit trickier. I don’t know about you, but we’re in a constant rotation of borrowing, trading and storing kids’ clothes, and as I’m not finished fluctuacting sizes myself, (weight loss, pregnancy, post-partum, etc.) the amount of clothes stored is indeed the challenge. Come to think of it, Caleb is the only individual in our household out of six who doesn’t change size. Except for this year because he has recently lost some weight. (Go, my love!) 

    Any way you slice it, our clothes situation is one that is constantly evolving and won’t stop for quite some time to come. So, likewise, my plan of action to manage it must be flexible, but systematic, so we can maintain our ideal of simple living. (And we still have a long way to go.) 

    The kids’ clothes are mainly the way I like it, and I’m at the point where I think I can go through my own for another sweep through and get rid of a few more things I’m realistically not wearing or won’t end up wearing as much. 

    And here’s the sweetener. The idea is to carve away excess clothing to reveal a minimalist wardrobe where I would choose any one piece first out of my closet. I have to stop settling for clothes that are just ok, because they won’t get worn. Not when they’re put next to items I actually love to wear. And those clothes I don’t wear end up robbing space. So, I’m going to start gradually fill my closet with choice pieces that I love to wear and that are good quality, so they last for years to come. 

    A concept that takes the minimalist wardrobe even further, but one I haven’t yet attempted, is the capsule wardrobe. I really like this blog post featuring a gal named Caroline Rector, about how to create your own capsule wardrobe – which, in her definition, “is a wardrobe that represents more time and energy for what really matters (less time spent deciding what to wear/less time spent shopping/less time doing laundry or caring for clothes) more money for our dreams and helping others (less money spent on clothes that never get worn) and more contentment and happiness.” Uh, yep. Sign me up!

    It is essentially a wardrobe comprised of clothing pieces that go with any other select combination of pieces. From samples of capsule wardrobes I’ve seen, they contain lots of neutral staples, punctuated with some flair, personality-remniscent ones. 

    We’re constantly bemoaning the fact that “we have no time,” no? That we “don’t have anything to wear” but yet there’s a closet full of clothes staring us blankly in the face, right? And then we try on way too many of the wrong outfits only to wear the one we began with and end up rushed and ultimately (well, in my case!) late to my destination. No bueno. 

    Building a capsule wardrobe looks like a good answer for this all-too familiar time wasting crisis to me. If my wardrobe is already full of clothes that I love to wear, clothes that fit me, clothes that go with any other piece in said wardrobe, dressing would be a piece of cake! And I can consequently spend much more time on things that actually matter to me, which is the ultimate goal. Unless of course, you happen to be a fashion designer and loving clothes is your job. Ha. 

    But for me, a country gal with no place to go other than the grocery store and church and a couple appointments here and there, a snazzy city wardrobe isn’t for me. I want to be able to choose what I wear within 20 seconds or fewer. My time is much more valuable spent outside my closet. And I suspect the same is for you. 

    So, back to minimalism, again, it is ALL a process. And one I’m heartily enjoying, because the time I spend downsizing is going to yield long- lasting benefits, both for me and my family. Less stuff, more space, less stress, more time, more depth in relationships, and ultimately, more communion with the ones I love, as I learn to serve them and all around me. 

    God bless you always, and especially today. 

    Thanks so much for reading.


      Saving Your Valuable Time

      I was beginning to think I have mild ADD. There once was a time when I possessed comparably insurmountable concentration to a single task at hand, normally drawing or practicing piano or reading, or even studying for that matter. How quickly things can change…

      Understandably, having attained a husband, a household, and four children, I now can be found to embody a mere fraction of the devotedly focused individual I was even just six years ago. My first thought upon realizing this stark and, at first, alarming difference in myself was that I have become less focused and my attention is now split a thousand ways. I am incredibly distractable. And I seemingly cannot do anything for more than fifteen minutes put together (unless it’s reading or writing or talking. HA.) Maybe I need to work on my multitasking skills. 

      And yet, the more I try to improve said multitasking skills, the less I actually improve at accomplishing things. From what I’ve been reading and hearing (namely, this article by Larry Kim at Inc.com, great stuff), multitasking is actually not the way to go, as I have previously been led to believe. From what he is saying, the practice of multitasking is doing the very opposite we believe that it is. Efficiency, getting things done faster, getting more things accomplished… 


      Here are some excellent nuggets excavated from this article. 

      In fact, what we call multitasking is really switching from task to task at ludicrous speed. Doing so harms our brains by perpetuating “bad brain habits.” We switch from minor task to minor task at such a great pace (example: checking email to texting to looking up to answer a question back to texting, all while watching TV,) to which our brains respond by “hitting us with a dollop of dopamine, our reward hormone.” We love that comfy feeling instant gratification brings, which comes from – you got it – dopamine. And as a result from this behavior, we train our brains to think we are accomplishing much, when truly we aren’t. 

      Mr. Kim cites a recent study suggesting “subjects who multitasked while performing cognitive tasks experienced significant IQ drops. In fact, the IQ drops were similar to what you see in individuals who skip a night of sleep or who smoke marijuana.” 
      This statistic is nothing short of horrifying in my mind…

      And as if that weren’t enough, multitasking has also been shown “to increase production of cortisol – the stress hormone.” Of course. On top of that, the real kicker:

      “A study from the University of Sussex (UK) ran MRI scans on the brains of individuals who spent time on multiple devices at once (texting while watching TV, for example). The MRI scans showed that subjects who multitasked more often had less brain density in the anterior cingulate cortex. That’s the area responsible for empathy and emotional control.”

      And I am scarily finding this very result in myself the more I pursue the habit of multitasking. Shortness with people, quickness of temper, all around touchiness, impatience for anyone who doesn’t understand me right away… 

      So, new plan. I’m done trying to become an adept multitasker! 

      Now that I’m aware of how I’ve been mistakenly trying to accomplish Life, I’m attempting to really do one thing at a time. Eat lunch without doing something else too. Plan more time to get certain tasks done for the sake of doing them individually, and well. Be. Think. Train even my thoughts to sink into one concept at a time. So much better to do a single task as well as I possibly can, to think a thought as deeply and completely as time allows, to contemplate as fruitfully as possible, than to do ten or even fifteen tasks all at the same time but accomplished to a fraction of their value. 

      This is going to take a lifetime of practice. Isn’t it just the hardest thing to sit still? Stay? Be? Interact? It takes enormous strength for me to not retreat into my personal self-ish world as soon as I have the opportunity. To be present, to force myself to engage? That is where the true courage lies. 

      But we love to feel busy. It makes us feel like we’re getting a lot done. The fact must be faced that when we fill up the day with too many things, the result is that we come to the end with too many tasks to accomplish in the leftover time allotted to us, we feel pressed for time, and the reaction is to do everything faster by multitasking to get all those things checked off the list. And most of the time getting things done faster means merely that. Not better, just faster. Busyness certainly does not mean progress. 

      The conclusion I come to is that I must retrain myself in what I perceive true accomplishment means and looks like. 

      I want to utilize my time as efficiently as possible though, not as quickly as possible, which means I must retrain this habit I’ve ended up unintentionally cultivating within myself. 

      Because I know I won’t get to the end of my life wishing I had gotten more things done. I’ll wish I had  spent my time better – deepening relationships, giving, serving, loving, learning. 

      In that way, I will have saved my own valuable time. Not by what I accomplish but by how I enrich my own soul and the precious ones around me. 

      May God bless you always, and especially today.


      Journey to Minimalism 

                                      • • • 

      Since having my fourth wee babe this past April, I feel I’ve received a thick dose of reality in what I can and cannot handle. There is a limit, after all… 

      Mr. Ollie is 6 months old now, and in the time between his birth and the present, I’ve delved into some steep self-discovery. 

      • Realization #1 • I learned that taking care of two Great White Pyranees pups plus four children under the age of five, including a newborn, was not amongst the list of circumstances I can handle well, no matter how badly I wanted to. There’s apparently nothing so alluring to me as appearing to have it all under control when I truly don’t. 

      The pups are in two wonderful and beautifully capable new homes as of this May, and I have my wits back, along with my patience. My conclusion from this humbling lesson is that we are not supposed to have any dogs for a while. (Duh.

      Furthermore, I currently have not the desire nor the energy to train dogs the way I wish to, and I will not subject myself to training a new pup until the boys are able to do most of the care. Also, I have enough encounters with southern  bodily substances on a daily basis to be relieved from the task of caring for two enormous puppies, thankyouverymuch. 

      • Realization #2 • It is remarkable how much adding a single person (and a miniature one at that) to a family can increase Mt. Laundry. Absolutely astonishing. I’ve never been so overwhelmed with laundry. And I have a small house. But we had a lot of laundry… So, Caleb’s natural response was: get rid of all the things! I was hesitant about this approach at first, but after revisiting my opinion on the subject, my eyes were opened to truly see the amount of Stuff we have accrued in our short six years of marriage, and found that it was indeed the answer. 

      • Realization #3 • I need to write. It is not a hobby, it is a fundamental need. For now, I picked journaling back up, after years and years of inconsistent  documentation of my mental world. It’s still a challenge, as is anything for me concerning the pursuit of consistency, but I am now in more of a routine regarding physically writing in a journal. And getting back into practicing my handwriting is a refreshing biproduct of it. I love the act of writing nearly as much as the writing itself… Something about forming words as beautifully as possible. My future writing goals include more work on my novel(s), and learning to write them, but that is for another post…

      • Realization #4 • I must take care of myself. This means getting to bed earlier than this night owl has ever managed on a daily basis, rising early, exercising in some capacity, and eating healthily. Of course. 

      So, I’ve run a half marathon, and that was stop one on my post-partum weight loss journey. Down nearly thirty pounds and planning some strength training for the month of November as I get back to my no-sugar diet, which has been instrumental to this weight loss! (Again, I’ll keep you informed in future posts…)

      • Realization #5 • I’m a much more disorganized person than I’d like to admit. Becoming a mother of four as of April effectively pushed me out of my many comfort zones, from a state of controlling (or attempting to control) All Things to a new reality of accepting, relinquishing, and redirecting when it came to my home and my children. 

      Realizing that I need to begin with changing myself was the first step – I do have the control to change the way I do things – it is part of my role as the homemaker that greatly shapes how our home is run, how it feels, how it functions. 

      An inspiring book, Design Mom, lent to me by my sister-in-law (thanks a million, Emily Wilson!), motivated me to reassess the way I do (or rather, don’t do) things in our home, and moved me along the direction of newly aspiring minimalism. 
      I relish home design books with good pictures, and this one is chock full of ’em. And the underlying theme of the author’s decorating style is functional simplicity. She regularly considers the positioning of the components of her home, and assesses their current functionality, their value, their purpose. If anything changes, so does the room, and she adjusts to improve it and try something new that can work better. Or, if she decides she simply doesn’t like something anymore, she changes it. Now, obviously not all of us have the luxury of changing things at the drop of a hat, but it does help to remind oneself that decoration doesn’t have to be permanent, nor should it be. I forget that all too often. 

      And yet, spending as much mental energy as I’m sure she does on the movement of the home absolutely needs to be put into balance as well. There are so many more important things to be getting on with, I feel. But it’s for a time, really – rearranging one’s home does not have to be a constant, but rather, a means. How exhausting that would be, otherwise! 

      Back to Design Mom – I just loved her fresh take on running a home, establishing and maintaining systems that work, and making a house into a sanctuary for everyone in it, all the way down to the youngest child in the family. 

      So, as I looked around my own home, I took mental note of a few things – my initial observations were:

      1 – We have a lot of clothes. Waaaay too many items of clothing, towels, fabric in general, etc. 

      2 – There are too many toys. (And we have significantly less compared to the average American household where toys are concerned.) 

      3 – We’re running out of space. 

       4 – We don’t use a lot of the stuff we are currently storing/keeping around. 

      It all started with the night Caleb and I went through the eight plastic bins of kids’ clothing size newborn to 4T, and downsized to three bins total – 2 boy, 1 girl. The snowball effect was activated. We became hooked on minimalizing.

      I paid more attention to the things I liked about friends’ houses and how simplicity and functionality and beauty can combine in a lovely, inviting home. I read up on minimalizing tips, found some new blogs, and started going through possessions and piling up the Goodwill box, I mean carload. 
      I’m learning that minimalism is a process. Not something accomplished overnight, by any means. It is far too hurculean a task. No, not a task, a lifestyle alteration. 

      Presently, after a couple of months at this, we are down to a happy amount of clothing for the boys, as well as the kids’ toys. We are still going through our own clothes, books, DVDs, CDs, craft supplies, etc. And we keep going through the same things and discovering that we can live on less stuff. It is the most freeing thing… And it’s addicting. I find that I’m now too eager to just give away things, and sometimes have to check myself and ask if we still use it enough to keep it, which is sometimes true. 

      But sometimes one has to go from one extreme to the other in order to come to balance. I don’t think we’ll get too extreme, but I’m certainly finding that we now have not only more space for storage, but plenty of it. We’ll easily be able to live in our three bedroom/two bath little ranch style house for several more years before even thinking about adding on or doing major home improvement. And that gives me peace of mind. 

      I keep thinking about the holy fathers and monks and how unattached they were/are to their very few possessions. And I think it can be a very Orthodox way of living to rid oneself of all the possessions the world tells you that you must have. 

      I’m finding that not only do I forget what I’ve confiscated after I do, but more – I don’t miss them. I don’t miss the things! And life goes on without them taking up space in my home.

      Now the challenge will be to not replace all that I’ve gotten rid of with better things. Ha. 

      More on minimalizing later. I’ll tell you about my wardrobe next! Also a process, but one I’m heartily enjoying. You’ll see why. 

      Until then, God bless you always and especially today.


      Mackinac Half Marathon

                                      • • • 

      I’ve done it. Four and a half months training a grand total of over one hundred and fifty miles, and consequently nearly thirty pounds lost led up to the day I planned before even giving birth to Ollie this April. I ran my first half marathon on Saturday. 
      Last year, for our fifth anniversary, Caleb and I went to Michigan for a getaway, during which we stayed at the renouned Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island for a night. And, of course, we fell in love with the island and all of its old fashioned beauty. Not a single car can be found on the island. Horses and carriages and bikes are seen everywhere you look, as are the gorgeous houses and properties of Mackinac locals. The charm of this place is tangible, and one cannot help but leave it feeling uplifted. 

      That said, early this year, when looking up races to enter, I stumbled upon The Great Turtle Race on Mackinac Island. Caleb excitedly told me he would gladly take me back to Mackinac if I could train to run the half marathon. At the height of inspiration, I promptly asked my sister in law, Suzi, if she’d want to run it with me and make a weekend getaway out of the trip. To my delight, she said yes!

      And after the next several months of running and planning and running some more, the day finally arrived. Suzi and her husband Phil, and Caleb and I, plus Mr. Ollie, drove up to Mackinac for the race. We stayed in a house on the water for Friday night, and took the ferry to Mackinac Island for the day on Saturday.

      Despite rainy (and consequently muddy), windy and cold conditions, we plowed through and made it to the finish line in 2:57, my personal best time by ten minutes. I was glad for the change of course from pavement to trail and back again, since I was concerned my knees would bother me. And since the rain caught us early on in the race, we dried off after a while and kept cool during our run. We saw beautiful house after beautiful house, each more impressive than the previous one, which helped the run to feel quicker. 

      I loved it. Not every single minute of it – it was challenging for sure – but I loved that I was finally working to accomplish the goal I’d worked toward for four and a half months. I loved being around the other runners, this being my first ever race. And I especially enjoyed being with Suzi, who faithfully stuck with me though she could have made a significantly better time otherwise! 

      I was unsure how the end would be, and crossing the finish line truly was emotional. Something in me gave way the very second I stepped over the marker, and tears fell as the relief of finishing rushed through me. I was done. It was finished. With my own two feet, I ran a 13.1. 

      But the accomplishment hardly belonged to me alone – without my encouraging friends, family, and husband, I very well could have given up and decided it wasn’t for me. Caleb and Mom W watched the kids numerous times so I could go on my long runs, and I was kept accountable by friends and family who would check in with me every so often to see how the running was going. 

      So, to all of you who helped me to the end, thank you so very, very much! For your encouragement, for your support, for your patience while listening to me blabber on about running, for your prayers. I mean it from the bottom of my heart when I say I could not have done this without you. 

      Thank you to my beloved Husband, Caleb, to my parents who watched Cillian and Lucy, to Caleb’s parents who watched Jamie and encouraged me constantly while watching me run three miles, five miles, eight, ten…, to Phil for helping plan and execute the trip, and especially to Suzi, for sticking by me and pushing me til the very end. I love you all dearly.

      On to the next fitness goal! For the month of November, I’m planning to keep up with running (after I enjoy my week-long celebratory sabbatical), do a plank challenge, a squat challenge, and an arm strengthening challenge. 

      In other news, I’m back at blogging! I’ll keep you posted. More updates coming. It’s been a while.

      I hope you have a terrific Tuesday. 

      Glory to God for all things!!! 


      Five Years


      This exact day, five years ago, I woke up in a daze, hardly believing that the man downstairs waiting to drive me to church in the morning would finally become my husband in just a few short hours that afternoon.

      Caleb and I have been married for five years. We got married on his twenty-fifth birthday. I was still nineteen. But I couldn’t have felt more ready for this life. And it was the best decision I have made thus far in my green twenty-four years.

      We have lived in three homes – two different apartments and the house where we are now living, which will hopefully be our only house. We have had three children, and I pray, will be blessed to have many more. We have traveled as far west as The Big Island in Hawaii and as far east as Outer Banks, North Carolina. There are a multitude of things we have discovered about one another throughout this beginning five years.

      The one thing I see as the theme of our first years together so far is this – by improving oneself and praying diligently is change in one’s spouse achieved. You cannot force your spouse to be different. They must change themselves. But altering yourself and praying fervently for your spouse can evoke change in them. And it is incredible.

      To my Beloved – I cherish you more today than I did the day that I married you – somehow my love has deepened and seasoned into something much more understood than the innocent, wide-eyed love that I loved you with that day. It fills me with joy to be the one who gets to love you and to be loved by you. My cup truly runneth over.

      Here’s to us, my Love. May we continue to sharpen one another, iron against iron, into more loving, giving, patient, and humble creatures. Thank you for serving me the way that you do – I am the far more blessed one by your goodness and your selflessness, and I am honored to be your wife and to care for our house and our children. God grant you many years, Caleb, and happy thirtieth birthday.

      Happy anniversary, my Husband.

      I love you dearly.



      Weeds and Quiet Time and Boys


      Thursday, I spent the afternoon doing something I’ve never done at my own home – I weeded. It had been quite a long time since I’d done that. But there we were, Cillian and I, armed with a garden hat, kneeling mat and a weeding tool, in the cool but sunny three-o-clock, while Jamie and Lucy napped inside the house.

      This past week, I’ve been keeping Cillian out of his and Jamie’s shared room (and queen bed) for quiet time with me, so as to enable Jamie to have a decent nap without big brother’s interference, as, much to my chagrin, Cillian seems to have outgrown them. Whenever I give them shared quiet time, Cillian ends up sabotaging everything, normally resulting in Jamie crying about something. So we have quiet time together, he and I, and it’s quite nice. He gets to learn something new, whether it be how to fold laundry or how to follow a workout DVD or how to weed, and I get to give valuable, one-on-one attention to my big guy.

      At first, I felt unsure about surrendering my valuable afternoon do-whatever-I-want time, but I came to realize that if I started rising before the kids wake up each morning, “me” time can still happen, in addition to creating a peaceful situation for all three kids in the afternoon. And also, without resentful feelings that I didn’t get to do something I wanted to that day.

      So, we knelt on the brick walkway, pulling at the stubborn tufts of Unwantable Green, as I taught Cillian how to properly pull a weed from the root and not merely the leaves. He successfully yanked two or three and then quickly became interested in wielding the weed tool to dig along the edges of the newly improved bricks. After all, he is a four-year-old boy. What else is he going to want to do when there’s something to dig with lying around?

      I, on the other hand, soldiered on, ignoring the aching in my fingers from pulling the belligerent weeds. It was so satisfying. Quiet was all around us, Cillian busy with his digger, me wrestling the grass and dandelions, our tiger cat, Aslan, lazily prowling the front porch, as if lording over his slaves doing his bidding.

      There was something intensely gratifying about this simple task. And as I sweated through it, feeling the burn of Vitamin D overdose on my back, I came to the conclusion that this is the kind of work I should be doing. I was made to do this kind of work, this wonderful physical labor. Gardening is one of the best kinds of rewarding physical labor, I think – to beautify something living, to cultivate life out of earth, to bring forth fruit from the ground. Up until now, I have been content to let Caleb be the one who does all of the tending to our family garden. But now I’m starting to care more too. And it’s easier to care when I spend more time outside, surrounded by it all.

      In general, I like to be clean, tidy, indoors, and quiet most of the time. So God, in His infinite wisdom, gave me two boys. And they love nothing more than to be the opposite of all of those things, which is exceptionally healthy for me, because there is something so intrinsic about being in nature. It’s because there, we become closer to God. We learn to quiet ourselves and our ever busy, buzzing thoughts. We learn to serve, to contribute to something with purpose. We learn to listen and to pray.

      And boys… Boys need to be outside like nothing else. In the wild. Yelling, jumping, swinging off of things, moving, doing. The outdoors is their kingdom, their sanctuary. So, I am trying to take the hint and be outside more with them. (Because if I let them spend too much time outside by themselves, one of them ends up wailing or they both skip town in the brief two minutes that I’m not checking, and head up the long, rocky driveway to Grandma’s house, usually with their red wagon in tow.)

      So yesterday, Jamie got his nap and Cillian got some Mama time outside, and when it was time for everyone to be loud again, we were all quite happy, every one of us, because everyone had gotten exactly what they needed.

      I think I’ll be doing this again and again.

      Have an absolutely lovely day, and do spend some of it outside, admiring this gorgeous July we’ve been having. You won’t wish you hadn’t.


      If I Were Ever to Write an Autobiography


      A long-standing joke on my side of the family is that everyone has their own “book.” If they were to write one about themselves, that is. My Dad’s would be “Look, an Iridescent Bug!” my mom’s would be “People are Idiots,” my sister’s would be “Wait, What?”  my brother’s would be “Life is Weird…” my husband’s would be “And Then, They Gave Me a Million Dollars!” and mine would be “How Did I Get Here?”

      The Table of Contents would follow –

         1. If Only My Van Had a Torpedo – Rodent Extermination, Idiot Elimination

         2. Concerning Toddlers and Other Explosives

         3. We Need to Eat Dinner Again?

         4. On Husbands and Why Mine is a Superhero

         5. I Wish My Smartphone Wasn’t My Brain

         6. Girlfriends of Gold

         7. Who Woke Up the Baby and Do They Have Life Insurance?

         8. Must Create All the Things!!!

         9. Dark Chocolate, Gin and Yogurt

         10. C’mere Kid, Mama’s Gotta Change You Again…


      What would your book be?

      Hope your day is laughable.



      Active Living


      Exercising and eating well seem to go hand in hand, wherever you look for healthy wellbeing how to. I’ve never been clever enough to put the two together, having isolated running or working out from all kinds of diets I’ve done in the past. But I’m older and wiser now (of course), and I’m trying out both simultaneously with equal gusto for the first time and simply had to tell you about it, as the results are turning my world upside down. Why I haven’t done this my whole life?!

      You see, I’m finally ready to accept that Exercising and Eating Right simply cannot be a one time thing for me. I want to jump into a healthy habit of Living. And though I have always vacillated between “but-I-can-get-away-with-ice-cream-every-night-for-a-week-every-other-month-and-indulge-in-chips-whenever-I-feel-like-it-IF-I’m-running-and-eating-well-the-rest-of-the-time” and “eat right, sleep right, be active, do things, steady as she goes, this is a lifestyle not a sprint,” I think I’m finally on to something now. I’m going to finish this once and for all.

      A while ago, I was searching online for a big chewy oatmeal chocolate chip recipe and stumbled across a blog called Our Best Bites. I explored around a little and discovered a side bar post on Real Life Health and Weight Loss, a story about one of the two gals who write the blog. Reading her story ignited my enthusiasm to finally finish it all.

      I’m going to be dreadfully candid with you and share some vulnerable stats. Having had my first baby, Cillian, right off the bat after getting married at nineteen, I quickly inflated from my little married 5’6”-123 lbs-self to a postpartum mama 60 pounds heavier. I lost 30 lbs of it between Cillian and Jamie, who was born 17 months after Cillian. I gained another 60 lbs during my pregnancy with him and for the first time in my life saw a mortifying 200.0 on the scale. After the boys, I managed to get down to the 160’s before having our third child and first girl, Lucy. I managed to keep my weight down a little better during her pregnancy and only gained 40 lbs this time. This was due to a number of factors, namely, that I was under the care of my first midwife as opposed to a doctor with both boys, and consequently a bit more closely monitored concerning lifestyle and health; and also, Lucy was my smallest, earliest, and quickest baby at 9 lbs 3 oz, born two days before her due date after an active 2-hour labor.

      Lucy is now going on 11 months old, and I am currently 180 lbs. I never ever want to see this number again, even when at 9 months pregnant. I want to get as close to where I was five years ago when I got married. The gal writing the blog post went from a size 12/14 to a size 2/4 in 18 months by working hard at strength training and eating right – that’s correct, the real, old-fashioned way. And if she can go down 10 sizes, I can get back down 6 sizes. I’m going to do it right. I’m sweating through the work, and more. I’m enjoying it.

      What I’ve been doing for the past several weeks is following the Jillian Michael’s (Biggest Loser trainer) Ripped in 30 exercise DVD and diet plan. With some variations. Her diet plan is widely diverse, which is nice, but I’ve chosen a few of my favorite meals and remain content to rotate those, which JM authorizes with encouragement. I’ve chosen to go carbless and for the most part, sugarless as well, rather than to spend lots of money on special carb-acceptable options JM provides in her meal plans. More or less, I’m doing a low calorie paleo diet including dairy and eggs. And it’s working. I feel cleansed and satisfied and light and strong and capable.

      The workouts are amazing. I’ve never craved working out the way I do JM’s workouts. She does a 3-2-1 ratio of strength training, cardio, and abs – each workout is an entire 24 intense minutes long. So, including a warm up and cool down, there are three circuits of the 3-2-1 exercises, each circuit increasing in intensity. On the DVD, there are four different workouts, one for each week, again, each exponentially more challenging. JM recommends doing each individual weekly workout 5-6x a week, and taking a rest day or two, then beginning the next level. I’ve been doing workouts every other day and my own weight lifting in between as much as possible without injuring myself. I intend to step it up as soon as I figure out a consistent time to work out and shower during the day. (Still not great at the getting up early in the morning thing, but I think it’s my only choice!) The entire process takes me an hour, as I usually require more stretching than her cool down provides to prevent mucho soreness.

      As of now, I can feel a noticeable difference in my back (always a weak point… I threw my back out two times after having Jamie, as he was my heaviest baby and my poor, overtaxed body was at its heaviest ever weight,) and my legs (more specifically my quads and muscles around my knees, which have always seemed weak as well). I can also feel the exercises working my upper back, shoulders and triceps, which makes me optimistic, as those are areas I’m eager to improve. I have yet to feel an exercise that makes my biceps sore, but I’m beginning to think that after four years of baby-toting, they remain the strongest muscles I have. The abs exercises are highly effective too. JM’s whole mantra is to be in constant motion so as to maintain an elevated heart rate while doing combination exercises (ex. weights plus lunges or squats) to maximize results as quickly as possible. Another thing she does is avoid repetition between workout weeks – once you’ve done an exercise, you’ll never do the same one again. There may be a variation on it in sequential workouts, but never the same exact one, which I’m highly in favor of, as I tend to get bored with too much monotony.

      Something else I’m doing along the way is keeping a physical wellness journal, where I document the date, which exercise I’m doing, and whatever extra notes I want to add, as well as weekly measurements and weight records. Nothing to report yet, as I just started this a few days ago, but I’ll update my stats as soon as I have something worthy enough to necessitate coming to look for praise or a few gold stars or maybe even an “excellent!” or a “great job!”

      It all makes so much sense, really. You burn calories on both ends by eating less, but more nutrient, protein-rich food to satisfy hunger for longer stretches of time and by exercising consistently and building muscle to burn through the fat in your body and to increase your resting metabolism as a result of your growth in muscle. Genius.

      I have a few goals in mind when I think of the “end result.” (I put that in quotations because I don’t want to stop exercising and eating well in general…) I put that in parenthesis because I felt like it.

      • I want to get to the point where I can jump in to various physical activities (if a friend randomly wants to go running together, if we decide to go hiking or swimming, if I decide I want to try rock wall climbing, parasailing, bungee jumping, etc.) and walk away invigorated and not limping in search of the nearest urgent care
      • I especially want to be, look and feel a good 15-20 lbs lighter for Caleb’s and my 5-year anniversary trip we have planned for September around my 25th birthday. Looking satisfactory in pictures is important to me. I want to hide my face when I look at pictures of myself now. And these pictures will be special. I want to look special too. This goal gives me a grand total of two months.
      • Honestly, I want to get my weight down so I can be at a confident starting place when, God willing, I get pregnant again. Having a healthy pregnancy where I gain only 30-35 lbs would be a dream.
      • After completing this workout program, I think I want to do more JM workouts and also get back into running. I just loved doing that after I had Jamie. Never before then had I run as much as 5 miles without stopping. It was bliss.

      The whole idea is that I orchestrate my life to be a more active one in general too. I don’t have the advantage of livestock depending on me yet, but that will soon be remedied in the near future, as we are considering getting chickens this coming spring and eventually a pig or two. Maybe more animals. I don’t know yet. Caleb wants to be a farmer of all things living. I’m along for the ride.

      All in all, I just know that I need to be doing something every day to keep me in shape. And eventually I absolutely won’t have time to work out to achieve it. I have got to live an active life to achieve this. There’s no other way. There will be no time to make room for it, even. I plan to homeschool, to raise a house full of children, to maintain and grow in my own hobbies and passions of music and art, to become a good seamstress, to become a proficient grammatically-correct writer, to become an efficient homemaker and self-sufficient-living woman of the house, to become a wonderful cook, to massage and read to my husband, and so much more that will make “working out” a near-certain impossibility within, easily, the next ten years. And by then, I sure hope that I would have established an active way of life. Smiley face.

      I want to share all of this with you so that you can be encouraged if you, like me, struggle with eating right and being active enough; so you can follow along and keep me accountable throughout my journey of living healthily; so you can feel free to share anything inspiring or insightful concerning this topic (or anything else that I ever post about!); and truly, so you can be a part of my life and see the real challenges I face and endeavor to conquer through my eyes.

      Thank you for bearing with me, if you have finished reading this long-winded and repetitively written post (there are only so many synonyms for “workout.”) You are a gem. And I am grateful for you. I hope this has been a heartening, refreshingly honest window into my life. Stay tuned for more fitness updates, as well as more blog posts coming on many other subjects.

      May your day be bright and challenging, active and well-lived.