why the mess makes me happy

Right now, at this very moment, there is a mess in my kitchen, and I couldn’t be happier about it. I spent 10 minutes investing in this mess and the part that made it all worth it? The squeal from my 3 year old, “Yay! Pink Play Dough Mommy!”

So, right now my kitchen is a mess and it’s going to get worse before it getsĀ better. But there are four kids happily playing and being creative together. I’d say it’s a win. I am, however, going to do my vacuuming after they’re done. I have learned a thing or two!

Homemade Play Dough Recipe

1 cup flour

1 cup water

2 tsp. cream of tartar

1 tsp. oil

1/4 cup salt

food coloring

Mix all ingredients in pan on medium heat. Stir until smooth. Continue cooking until a ball of dough is formed. Remove from heat and knead while it cools. Remember to store in an airtight container and Enjoy!

How will you embrace the mess today?


happy is better than perfect

They’re not all looking at the camera. They focus is off. The angle could have been better. But they are smiling. I’m working on letting go of perfect and embracing happy.

I could have this:

Do I have to stand here and smile for this perfect picture?

But I’d much rather have this:

Pure joy!

who he wants

Most days I’m not who I want to be. I find myself starting with the best of intentions, but the milk spills, the pancakes burn, and the jeans won’t button. I long to be calm and patient, beautiful and sexy, friendly and strong. Maybe I am some of these things some of the time. But then I click on a blog or scroll through Pinterest and find that everyone else is so much….more.

They are more organized, beautiful, creative, daring, accomplished, patient, and giving. Their homes are cleaner and bigger and much better decorated. Their kids are experiencing life the way I wish mine would. And their husbands are so lucky because they are such amazing women.

And then there’s me. The me I see that yells, screams, cries, has dust and cobwebs and sticky floors, loses her patience, let’s people down, is a few sizes too big, and gets lost in longing to be the person she’s not.

The interesting thing is that this is my perception because clearly, I know me better than anyone. I’m always with me. I see how I act. I hear what I say. I hear what I don’t say. But then I realized I’m wrong. I don’t know me better than anyone. There’s only one person who knows me better than I know me.


There is the obvious…He made me, therefore He knows me. But the most interesting part is that He knew me before I was me, He knows me right now in this moment, and He knows who I will be someday. I don’t.

So, I choose to trust that I am exactly who He wants me to be right at this moment. Could I do more, be more, give more? Always. But He doesn’t love me for those things. He loves me for who I am right now, and I am who He wants.