Change is Scary

So, here’s the thing. I’m making some changes. Technical blog changes that are exciting but a bit scary for me.

For you, well hopefully you won’t notice too much other than new design and a new address.

That’s right…this blog has moved to!

Please click over and check things out. You’ll see changes for a little while, but change can be good, right? (says the women behind the computer typing with shaky fingers)

Stick with me, I promise you won’t regret it.

And yes, I know there are all sorts of techy ways to redirect you all, but for now, this is what I could do.

Thanks for reading and enjoy the dance!


Five Minute Friday…Small

Today felt awkward and I avoided it for as long as I could. Then I sat down to write, because this is how it’s done on Fridays.

I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo Baker for Five Minute Friday.

Five minutes.

One word.

No editing.

No rethinking.

Just writing.

Today’s word: Small

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Sometimes I forget that they’re small.

I look at them and expect them to reason and think and act just like me. I treat them like they are mini-adults with decades of experience behind them to help shape their decisions and reactions.

I forget that they are learning in this sometimes crazy, mixed-up world full of questions and unknown. I wonder how they can learn when so much is under this big umbrella of a question mark.

Sometimes I forget that they are small when I hear them argue or refuse to pickup their toys.

I forget that by Friday we are all feeling more fried than we know, and maybe what we needs is a bit of grace.

I forget so much about them just because they are small.

But their size masks their biggest traits. When I am so busy expecting them to be bigger, I don’t realize they already are.

I watched my son share a piece of his new candy with his friend. It was a proud mama moment. But then I watched my daughter give her brother a piece of her candy because she thought it was so nice that he shared. The moment was over in less than 60 seconds, but it felt anything but small.

Maybe I have it all backwards. The places where I think they are small, is where their greatest strengths lie. And the places where I expect them to be big, I need to let go and allow them to be small.

Maybe I need to be more like them.

Because I’m really not good at sharing my candy.


Motherhood feels like dancing blindfolded in shoes two sizes too big. But sometimes you remember to smile and enjoy the dance.

If you want to join in check out Five Minute Fridays.

Shadows and Light

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Sometimes the words creep in, seep in, with so much slithering darkness. The words that plague me, whispered by my giants.

The used to just attack my present…

You are a bad mother.

You have no friends.

You are fat.

You are not enough.

But as I struggle to take every thought captive and believe only that which is written in stone, the attacks have changed. Maybe there is a desperation there, but it is with a renewed ferocity.

You will always be a bad mother.

You will never have friends.

You will always be fat.

You will never be enough.

Lie after lie hissed quiet in my ears, and when I look over my shoulder there is no one there but where I had been.

There is a whole war going on inside my head, inside my chest, a battle not only for today, but for every tomorrow. If I believe the lie today, I lose endless tomorrows as well.

So I choose and I keep choosing because I cannot lose all my tomorrows because of a lie hissed in the shadows today.

Today, I shine the light and the shadows disappear. Maybe if the lies are in the light, they won’t seem so sinister. Maybe the light will give the courage I need to choose truth. Maybe the light will reveal that I’m not the only one fighting a battle.

I’m No Giant Slayer

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Sometimes I wonder how I can feel so small and my feelings can feel so big. They seem to loom over me with their “Fee-fi-fo-fum” and I cower deeper into myself. I try to battle the giants, but truth be told, I’ve never been a giant slayer.

I think I fight myself more than I fight the giants.

My giant has a name, but he doesn’t tell everyone. Instead he wears hats with nicknames like:

Bad Mom



Too Much

Never Enough



I don’t think he likes me to use his real name because it’s not as powerful. All these nicknames, even his real name, is about me, not about him.


The word sinks deep and as many times as I bury it, it resurrects itself with a glance in the mirror or words yelled in anger. I do this to myself. I’ve yet to find an undo button for life.

So my giant stays.

And somehow I think I’m the only one with monsters that know my weak places before I do.

There’s a secret that I whisper hoping my heart and my head can listen.

My giant has a giant. His battle cry is not a “Fee-Fi-Fo” but a truth: “I AM.”

And those two words take all my giants out at the knees until they are on their faces because those two words are all He needs.

The truth is, they are all I need.

Because I AM a child of the Giant above all others, and I don’t need to be giant slayer. He’s got me covered.

photo credit: God’s Hands, Kelley Ryden – Tracy Raver