The Perfect Snow Day Craft for Littles

Hi friends, It's been a while!  We've just been over here raising and growing babies and savoring these last few months together as a family of four!  I knew this pregnancy would fly by with the holidays dominating the final months.  And just like that... Christmas is just ONE WEEK away. 

This weekend we got our first big Denver snowstorm.  Our little family hunkered down with lots of yummy food + Christmas movies + cozy jammies.  One of my favorite winter movies is Snow Day starring Chevy Chase. I was thrilled to find this movie on Netflix and introduce it to the kids! 

If your babes are like mine though, movies aren't enough to keep them busy.  I try to keep play dough, baking supplies and crafts up my sleeve to keep them busy for impromptu snow days.  One of my favorite things to do is make Salt Dough Ornaments!  What's best -- This recipe takes only three ingredients and I can almost bet that you already have them on hand. 

Guys, these are SO easy and they can keep the kids busy for more than a half hour at a time.  Which is a HUGE win in my book.  Mack & Levi are tough because of their four year age difference so I am ALWAYS thrilled to find something that both of them love to do and will keep them equally entertained. 

The recipe for the salt dough is as follows:

1 Cup of Flour + 1 Cup of Salt + 1/2 a cup of water

Add more water if you need to make the dough the right rolling consistency. 

Throw some extra flour down on the table so that the dough won't stick. 

Please excuse the messy bedhead hair.... Hey, that's real life, right?

My kids loved rolling out their dough and then using cookie cutters to make their ornaments.  Once cut out, we used the bottom of a mixing stick to press holes into the ornaments to be used later to string our twine through.   

 Place the cut out dough on a cookie sheet and put into the oven on 200 degrees for 2.5 to 3 hours. 

Next comes the painting!  We spread this entire project out over a two day period to get double the entertainment!  Plus, momma needed a break from all the mess ;)

If you are in need of a last minute crafty gift for your kiddos, IKEA has these fantastic paint sets & roll out paper that we LOVE to pull out on rainy and snowy days. 

Lastly, wait until the ornaments dry and then string some twine or ribbon through the cut out hole.  Deliver a few to friends along with some homemade holiday cookies!  It's the perfect simple kid approved Christmas gift! 

Bed Bugs & Cactus Spines

Earlier this week I sat cross legged in our shower and watched the water pour down in droplets over my bare pregnant belly. Reaching the third trimester milestone seems to have propelled me into the equally scary and exciting reality that this baby is coming....and soon. As I sat there letting the water fall on and around me, I leaned down to my belly and found myself whispering the words, "I hope you are ready to join this crazy circus, Sweet Baby.  You are in for quite the ride!"  I was both laughing and crying in that moment.

This has been a week for the parenting history books in our home.  Sometime, in the distant future, I'm sure I'll look at my husband and ask, "Remember that week.... the week with the hives and the cacti and the Donald and all the puking...?  How did we make it through that week?" 

But for now,  I'm still in that week.  I'm still living it.  And I'm trying so desperately to find the humor hidden beneath all of the tears and the exhaustion and the countless times I've asked, "Can't this week be over already?"

On Monday, our 7-year-old daughter came home from school with bright red welts covering her neck and arms.  I'm not usually the panic driven mom type but being nearly 10 weeks out from welcoming our first "winter baby" was enough to propel me into diagnosing whatever plague had just entered our home.  Every imaginable scenario began to play out in my head.  Could the welts be an allergic reaction to something on her clothes?  Maybe she accidentally ate gluten?  The start of Chicken Pox?  Hand Foot and Mouth disease? Bed Bugs?  Oh good heavens, please not Bed Bugs.  This possibility led to the stripping of every bed sheet, pillow case and dust ruffle in our home.  We overturned mattresses, took the shop vacuum to every nook and cranny and washed all of the bedding in extra large loads.  Nothing.  Not a bug.  Not a spec of feces.  But this was four days ago and the red welts are still popping up with no answers in sight. 

On Tuesday, we made the decision to keep Hives Girl home from school.  Midway through the day, our little family of four was at each other's throats.  Lots of bickering, whining and an overabundance of tears from both the kids and me. In an effort to get out of the house and away from the television's constant coverage of Election Day, we decided to take a walk to Andy's for our favorite frozen custard.  And everything was going well...until it wasn't. 

We stopped along a creek to let our hyper lab puppy splash in the water and let out some pent up energy.  As Boston bounded back up the bank towards us to do the classic "dog water shake", our youngest (middle child-to-be) stumbled backwards in an attempt to stay dry.  It was then that he unknowingly tumbled right onto...wait for it...

A cactus. 

If you can picture the scene in slow motion -- my husband and I went lunging for him in a failed attempt to break his prickly fall.  The look of horror that washed over his 3-year-old-face in that moment was downright pathetic, the dog completely unaware of the chaos that she had just unleashed. 

And... end slow motion... cue the shrieking Preschooler. 

I immediately go for his pants, ripping them from his waist, while my husband holds him down in attempt to thwart his thrashing. Long cactus spikes lodged so deep that they began to break in half as I attempt to dislodge them, leaving shards of cacti in his swollen legs. 

At this point, the humor begins.  As little man is shrieking, I throw up my hands in complete disbelief.  My husband has himself stepped backwards and has now found his own legs caught in the thorns of the cactus.  Mack, with her own bright pink welts is standing nearby helplessly as I am now trying to figure out which of the men in my life needs more rescuing. 

The dog... still clueless, bounding in the water nearby. 

It is then that Levi begins to scream, " AM I GOING TO DIE?  IS IT TIME TO DIE NOW?!"

And, I officially lose it.  I find myself again, somewhere between laughing and crying hysterically.  The week can only go up from here....right? 

Wrong.  Oh. So. Wrong.

Fast forward to Wednesday.  I am in the car pool lane, on a time crunch.  I have exactly one hour to get both kids home, fed dinner and out of pajamas. Yes -- little man is still in his pajamas at 4 pm.  Remember, it's been that kind of week.  We have to be at our local bookstore for a 2nd grade performance and it's imperative that we not look like hell even though that's what this week has felt like so far.  

I look to the backseat from my rear view mirror and can immediately tell that something just isn't right.  Cactus boy has turned flush red and is alternating between doing this weird mouth gagging thing while also insisting urgently that he needs to pee. 

I immediately go into mom mode.  I'm stuck in a line of cars half a mile long with a 3-year-old who is about to start vomiting while also threatening to pee his pants.  I throw my car into drive and pull through the bright orange "DO NOT ENTER" cones that block off the back corner of the school parking lot.  I quickly dump a grocery bag of it's contents onto the car floor and I shove the bag at Cactus boy, instructing him to aim for the inside of the bag.  The vomiting begins.  I've climbed out of my SUV at this point and have dumped a Starbucks cup of it's contents and have instructed him to aim his little man parts and pee inside of the cup....while simultaneously puking into the grocery bag. 

Now officially late for school pickup, I strip Cactus Boy down to his underwear and strap him back into his car seat.  As Hives Girl climbs into the car, I instruct her to, "Hold the puke bag for your brother."  At this point, she begins to cry hysterically at the realization that A. She will be missing her class event and B. At my lovely "We're a family, so we hold one another's puke bag" speech. 

Mom of the year award right here. 

Eventually, little man has covered himself so much in vomit that I have to pull into yet another parking lot corner, strap him illegally into the middle non-car seated seat, all the while, praying on the life of my third child that we do not get pulled over on the way home.  Because... #momjail. 

This morning, after forcing myself out from under my covers, after more tears rolled down my cheeks at the thought of another day like the past several, my husband sent me back to bed with coffee and my Bible.  I had to re-read this verse from Isaiah 40:11 over and over and over.

"He tends his flock like a shepherd; He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; He gently leads those that have young." Isaiah 40:11  

Then I had to cross reference this verse with the story from Genesis 33:12-15 where Jacob had to firmly tell his overeager brother Esau that he would not be rushing his family through a journey that would ultimately bring them harm.

"Then Esau said, 'Let us be on our way; I'll accompany you.'  But Jacob said to him, 'My lord knows that the children are tender and that I must care for the ewes and cows that are nursing their young.  If they are driven hard just one day, all the animals will die.  So let my lord go on ahead of his servant, while I move along slowly at the pace of the droves before me and that of the children, until I come to my lord in Seir.'"

This week has been a week of so much disappointment and discouragement.  There have been a lot of canceled plans and saying, "No" to previously committed to engagements.  I've had to let friends down who have been counting on me. I've disappointed both kids as we've been forced to stay huddled at home to rest and take it easy and heal. 

If this has been a similar week for you, I hope you'll take heart not in my words, because truly I have none.  I'm just that mentally spent.  I hope you'll be encouraged by the words in Isaiah 40 and Genesis 33.  These words of encouragement from a God who DOES see us daily, who cares for us and our momma hearts as we lay down our lives to be intentional in our mothering even on the really hard days, during the most difficult months and seasons. 

These are words that I'll likely have to keep reading throughout seasons of motherhood similar to this one. The seasons where everything just seems heavy and the exhaustion seems endless.  The ones with the bed bugs and the cacti and the puking.  I know there will be more of these and harder ones too. 

Today, I'm choosing to keep coming back to these words, to be gentle with myself as God is gentle with me.  I'm choosing to show myself and my husband and the kids grace.  I'm choosing to laugh at the really funny moments -- Like when one child is screaming, "IS IT TIME TO DIE?"  ...And to also allow myself to cry in abundance and let the tears flow when those are so desperately needed. 

I think one of the most difficult parts of being a writer is my desire to tie every story up in a neat little bow.  Complete with words of encouragement and a happy ending. 

But the truth is, I don't have much of that this week.

I have funny stories to share about bruised little legs with cactus spikes still lodged deep inside.  I've got a car seat sitting by the side of my house that still needs to be hosed off.  This morning, Hives Girl woke up with more red welts....but we still have no idea why.  I'm 7 months pregnant and I am freaking out about bringing another baby into this chaotic mess of a family. I am completely exhausted and just feeling so incredibly discouraged. 

But I'm choosing to believe that this is perfectly okay.  Maybe life doesn't need to be wrapped up in a pretty bow.  Maybe it's okay to sit in the messy and the mundane and to lift up my hands in complete surrender and to just trust that it's all going to be okay.  That I'm being held by a God who is gentle with me and on the all the days that I'm struggling to do this life well, HE is leading our little family. 

Three Isn't A Crowd: Raising our Daughters Well

Earlier this fall I spoke to a room of 100 women on the topic of vulnerability and friendship.  Vulnerability and friendship.  Two words that I am quickly learning... Just. Don't. Go. Together.

After I spoke, I received feedback from nearly a dozen women ranging in age from 20 years to 50 years.  Ironically enough, in spite of the age difference, I heard such similar things --

Things like,

"I thought it was just me!"

"I've been fighting these shame lies my whole life."

"I worry I'll never find those 2 am friendships."

"I've been convinced something is wrong with me."

Women in groves were sharing that my words had struck home and hit HARD.  I heard from others that there were tissue boxes being passed around the room.  So much emotion and so many tears. Embarrassingly, many of the tears came from me while on stage.  I'm not kidding-- some sweet woman actually climbed on stage to hug me just so I could pull myself together. 

I share all of this very humbly, because truly -- these words weren't mine.  The lessons I've been learning on vulnerability and friendship have been years in the making and I still have so far to go.  I share this because I'm realizing that it isn't just me.  Surprise, surprise-- I'm not the only crazy one still trying to navigate this wild ride of women friendships. 

Something powerful happened in the room the morning that I spoke and I just haven't been able to shake the pit in my stomach and the voices in my head.  The ones that are SCREAMING that a dialogue needs to be started among women on HOW we fix our broken hearts. 

Because I. AM. DONE. with the inner monologue I have with myself that perpetually goes something like this -- "Brittany, you aren't worthy of authentic friendship.  You aren't good enough.  Nobody wants you." 

Sound at all familiar?

I'm done believing the lie that tells me that if "Three's a crowd.... then I am that crowd".

Are you ready to be done believing this lie too?

This week I received a phone call that reminded me of a blog post I wrote earlier this year entitled The words I'll Never Use In Friendship Again.  Truly, it was probably writing this original post and hearing from so many of YOU that has gotten my thoughts rolling on this topic of friendship to begin with.

The phone call went something like this:

Mom Friend- "My daughter just came unglued.  She says she plays alone at recess and eats lunch by herself.  It's been happening most of the school year."

(I slyly glance at my seemingly innocent 7-year-old daughter out of the corner of my eye...)

Me- "Hmmm.... is that so?" I call to my daughter... "Sweetie...could you play with Layla at school tomorrow?  Sounds like she's feeling pretty sad and left out."

My daughter- (who is now in complete hysterics -- SEE how emotionally driven this topic is?) cries to me, "Mom, I asked my other friends if we could play with Layla too and they said, "Sure, why don't you just break up with us?"

Holy hell. 

What!?!  These girls are SEVEN. 

"Why don't you just break up with us?"

SEVEN YEARS OLD and these are the playground conversations they are having regarding friendship. 

I wanted to die when I heard this. 

And here's the thing -- let me be really clear...While, I am not at all naïve to the fallen sin nature of kids... I really and truly believe that their words and their inclusive attitudes are stemming from their own places of insecurity. 

It goes like this:

Friend A loves Friend B.

Friend B wants to add in Friend C to create a little trio.

Friend A sees friend C as a threat to the duo so she says, "No way.  I'll shame friend B so she doesn't leave me."

AND SO a cycle of loneliness and heartache is started at age SEVEN for friend C.

This cycle is one that will likely carry her through the awkward ages of junior high and high school, into the self discovery age of college and on into adulthood. 

It is one that will likely find her in a room as a young mom with 100 other women, passing the kleenex boxes and wondering why she have never felt worthy of authentic friendship.  Wondering why she still feels unlovable and wondering why she has felt like this for as far back as the playground days of elementary school.

And ironically, if you are still following me... Friend A and Friend B will likely end up in their own respective rooms of weepy women too.

My point is this... it starts YOUNG and it starts now.

What we are teaching our daughters about themselves and their goodness and their worthiness for true, authentic friendship matters. 

What we are teaching our girls right now about kindness and speaking life into others -- it has meaning.

The way our daughters see US as adult women handling friendships -- it is shaping them. 

It might mean (gasp!), removing inclusive words like "best friend" from our vocabulary and just deciding right now to teach our daughters that three is not a crowd.  Not even four or five.  We can teach our daughters that a village of friends and cheerleaders is the best way to get through life.

Something has got to change. 

As mothers of daughters, it is going to have to start with healing our own insecurities, doing the hard work of healing our own wounds, while simultaneously teaching our daughters not to repeat the same dysfunctional patterns.

It's going to take a whole lot of prayer and continuing to seek God's heart for my own healing.  It's a place I've seen so much growth in but I know I'm not done seeing the redemption take place in healing the shame lies that I've believed since I was a little girl.  The lies that tell me I'm not good enough or that I'm not worthy of being loved by others. 

It's going to take bravely dialoguing with other women -- other moms, on how we can teach our daughter's to be their authentic, amazing selves while still lifting their girl friends up in spite of unique differences and inevitable conflict that will happen throughout these formative years. 

I am bound and determined to start this work because I desperately want to see healing and redemption among the sweet woman of my own generation. And, I want be a part of stopping this cycle of insecurity in my own daughter's generation.  I can't just sit back and watch the patterns repeat themselves. 

I don't want my own daughter to find herself next to your daughter in 25 years saying for the very first time, "Hey, you too!?".  I'm convinced that if we start praying and intentionally battling now for the hearts of these sweet girls that there can be another way. 

So, I guess the question is... who else is with me? ;)

The Playground Walk of Shame

We've all done it.  You're bold faced lying if you say you haven't.  The Playground Walk of Shame.  And if it hasn't been the playground per se, then it's been the Target Walk of Shame, The Chickfila Walk of Shame, the Dentist Office Walk of Shame. Yes, even the Church Pickup Walk of Shame.

Oh Mommas... Today I did it. 

Nothing like a good old fashioned head down, plow your quickest way to the car with screaming child in tow to make you want to hightail it to the nearest empty parking to let those giant crocodile tears roll. 

Your own.... not your kid's.  They've done enough crying already. 

You're probably thinking the child culprit was my three-year-old.  Nope.  Try the seven-year-old.  Yeah... the one who is suppose to be sugar and spice and everything nice.  Well, let me set the scene for you. 

We've reached the point in our summer where everyone is D.O.N.E.  I can't entertain one more day in this bloody heat.  And my kids are looking at me like if I pull out one more board game they might just start chucking Monopoly houses at me. A slight exaggeration but if you are a parent of school age kids then you just "get it".   And school doesn't start for ANOTHER. TWO. WEEKS.  Lord, help me. 

So this morning, in an effort to throw a game changer into the mix, I loaded us up and we headed to the local park.  Upon arriving, my daughter immediately ran to the gymnastics bars.  Her pretty pink dress flowing in the wind behind her....

Did you catch that?  She had her heart set on doing the gymnastics bars in a DRESS. 

One flip around the bars and I had to pull my Mean Mom Card.  "Sorry sweet girl, you can't do the bars today.  You're showing every boy your underwear."  And really, can you blame me?  As I'm watching all of this unfold, all I can hear in my head is that mean old song sung by playground bullies, "I see London... I see France..."  A momma's gotta' protect. 

Now, the back story to this whole saga that's about to go down is that my daughter believes whole-heartedly that SHE IS DESTINED for the Fab Five 2024 Olympic Gymnast Team.  There is no talking her out of it.  It's a done deal friends.  We just have to first find her the best coach in the Mile High City and fork over all of our extra cash for the next eight years to get her there...

Every single spare moment of this girl's life is spent watching the Olympics, practicing her flips and landings, coercing her little brother into being her headstand judge....  #Thanksimone.

So, when it was realized that her dreams of Olympic stardom were suddenly crashing down around her -- all because of a park date planned poorly-- all hell broke loose.  Seriously.  It was like this girl had never spent a day hearing about Jesus in her life. 

I was mortified.  You see, maybe it's just me... but I think it's a tad more socially acceptable for toddlers to throw park tantrums.  But when your school aged child starts to wail and flail,  the judgmental momma looks... oh, they start flying.

What went on next was just plain embarrassing.  A whole lot of hysterical whailing, some shouting and a few "Worst mom ever", daggers thrown my way.  Ouch kid.  Really?  Worst mom ever?  I realized pretty quickly that this was just not my battle to fight.  It was either going to be me against the inappropriately dressed Aly Raisman wannabe or me against the momma in her perfectly crafted top knot and slim fitting, pink yoga pants.  We were hightailing it home. FAST. 

I arrived home and promptly inhaled an entire box of Kraft Mac N' Cheese.  Yes. An entire box.  I refuse to bear more shame.  I plan to laugh about all of this here shortly.

To the Mommas who were with me at this popular Denver kid hangout this morning... I will not incriminate myself further by telling you which popular park this was.  But I will say that I'm sorry you had to witness my messy motherhood on display for all to see this morning.

Today was further proof that some days I just need to be humbled and reminded that I don't have it all together.  Nope.  Not even seven years in. I'm joking friends... None of us will ever have it all together.  Not even the kids that we expect to be perfect and Stepford like. 

And to the Mommas who, just like me, did the Walk of Shame this morning.... somewhere, in another park or establishment, in another city, in another state or country....

Let's fist bump.  Solidarity sisters. Somewhere out there, there's another momma who just annihilated a box of processed, chemical ridden Mac N' Cheese and needs to know that there's no shame in it because somehow it made her Playground Walk of Shame a little more redeemed. 

You are a boss Momma. 

Here's what you need to know and take away from this...

Today's Walk of Shame was merely just preparation for the smile and the encouragement that you are going to give to tomorrow's momma.  

Because tomorrow, you'll be the one at the playground watching another momma do her Walk of Shame. 

Tomorrow, you are going to smile at her.  You are going to whisper a, "You're doing great!"  You are going to make sure she knows that she is doing a good job.  She didn't ask for the playground tantrum.  And neither did you. 

So, make it darn clear that she's a boss at this motherhood thing.  Playground Walk of Shame and all.

Early Pregnancy News: Why We Share With Our Kids

During a recent conversation with a newly expecting friend, I asked when she and her husband would tell their older children of the new pregnancy.  She shared with me that because she remembers my experience of sharing my miscarriage with my oldest daughter, she and her husband would wait to tell their children.

I left that conversation wondering if my husband and I made the wrong decision in sharing about our pregnancies and losses with our older children.  Was the weight too much for our (then toddlers) to grapple with in their developing minds?  I've wrestled with this question quite a bit in recent months. 

The decision to share about a new pregnancy with older children is not one that falls universally right for every family. 

For my sweet friend and her husband, the decision to wait was absolutely the right one.  Only they knew what their little ones could handle.  Subsequently, sharing about the loss of a baby with older children is not something any parent wants to do. 

I am confident after much thought, that for our little family, we have made the right decision.  We share joyfully about our baby's new life, knowing full well that we risk sharing the sadness of loss as well.  We share about our new pregnancy with our older children for these reasons:

1. Sharing about the life and loss of our babies opens up conversations about Heaven and Jesus.

After our first pregnancy loss, we inevitably had to answer some tough questions asked by our three year old daughter.  Questions like, "Where is Heaven?" "Is our baby in Heaven?" "Will we meet our baby someday?" and, "How do I get to heaven?"  These questions eventually lessened and our daughter began to speak confidently of Heaven.  She would point to the evening sunset and tell us that our baby was watching over us.  Our little girl is 7 now, four years removed from this first loss, and to this day she reminds us of this every time she sees a beautiful sunset. 

After our second loss, our son asked similar questions.  "Where is God?", "Is our baby with Him?"  "Does God love us?"  The loss of life within the walls of our home has opened up opportunity for us as parents to speak truth to our children. These questions are ones I likely wouldn't have addressed with my toddlers had we not lost our babies.  Not for one second though do I regret that we had these conversations with them young. 

2. Children are incredibly intuitive. 

I don't know about your kids, but my kids can read me like a picture book.  They can tell when I'm struggling.  I realized early on into motherhood that I could try to mask any feelings of vulnerability and walk around like a puppet with a plastered on smile. Or, I could just be honest with them...because, I'm a person too.  "Momma is having a bad day.  You'll have to be patient with me." 

Kids need to learn that it's okay for others to feel.  And, it's okay that sometimes the world isn't centered around them.  I also want my kids to grow up knowing that mom and dad are human beings, with really great days and really bad days.  This gives them the emotional freedom to share on the days that they are struggling without shame. 

On that note, after the loss of our babies we chose to be consistent. We wouldn't normally lie to our children about having a bad day so why would lie to them on some of our hardest days? 

There are ways to share openly with your children about the really tough stuff of life without dragging them in feet first. Children don't need to know the gory, emotional details of losing a baby.  But, you can choose to speak honestly by saying, "Mommy is feeling extra sad today.  Yes, I'm still sad.  Even though our baby is in heaven, Mommy still misses our baby and that's okay." "Yes sweetie, it's okay for you to miss our baby too. Would you like to do something today that will remind us of our baby?"

3. We would not downplay the integrity of our baby's life at a 20 week ultrasound gone poorly. So, why would we downplay the life of our 6 week old baby?

My husband and I believe that life begins at the moment of conception. Period.  I understand that many families don't believe this or teach their children this.  But we do.  So, we've chosen to honor our baby's life by recognizing our baby as part of our family from the minute we know he or she exists.  We don't pretend that this baby isn't alive until after we have confirmation of a heartbeat at 9 weeks or a healthy, properly growing baby at 20 weeks. 

We realize that for every life that is created, there is the chance that something can go wrong.  We are not promised a full term pregnancy with any of our babies.  Just as we are not promised grown adults from the babies we bring home from the hospital.  As parents, we want our older children to understand that the lives of their siblings are precious from day one, just like they also were and are.

4. Our babies' lives are part of the heritage of our family story.

If you ask my daughter how many members of our family there are, she will almost always tell you that there are six of us.  I promise, I haven't coached her on this.  On her own, she regularly reminds us that there are four of us in our home and two babies living in heaven.  I can't tell you how proud as a momma this makes me.  Our babies were intentionally created by God.   While short -- the days of their lives were purposeful and thought out by the Creator.  They were significant and loved.  Our babies on earth and in heaven will always have a part in our family tree and we believe that it is important for our older children to know this too. 

5. Our children take an active part in the hoping and praying for our future family.

Our older children know that adding to our family is a desire of ours.  No, we have not had "the talk" with our 7-year-old.  But, she does know that babies are a gift from God and that mommy and daddy pray regularly for her to be a big sister again.  My husband and I speak openly with both of our children about our desire to grow our family. 

Both of our big kids know that we do not control when we meet our next baby but they remain hopeful with us.  When out in a store, our daughter will see a baby and express that she's excited to have another baby brother or sister.  When meeting a friend's new baby, my husband and I share with our son that someday we know he would make an amazing big brother.  These are dreams that we as a family have together.  These are prayers we pray together and we remain hopeful that God will fulfill.

Every family is different.  There are no easy answers as parents for how to handle something as tough as pregnancy loss.  But for our family, for these five reasons, we are confident that we've made the right decision to share with our children about the life and loss of our babies. 

#Squadgoals

August is almost here!  If you've followed along with our family's musings at all in the past then you might remember that last August we tried our very first no spend month!

We called it our No Spend August.  This past January, we attempted another no spend month and we called it our New Year No Spend Challenge. 

Our overarching #squadgoals during a no spend month are these:

• No impulse spending
• To purge excess of spending, household items, clothes, toys, books etc...
• No eating out unless using a gift card (& be intentional not to go over the card amount)
• Be creative and utilize resources ... for example: make a birthday gift if you forget to buy one ahead of time, borrow sugar from a neighbor if you run out prior to the end of the month... you get the idea)
• Know your necessities and stick to them.  Paying bills and filling your car with gas are necessities.  Your mani/pedi however, can wait until September

In all honestly, our New Year No Spend challenge was a bit of a flop.  We didn't plan well enough ahead of time in terms of food and groceries.  And.... we bought a puppy.

... who is now a very large puppy. 

But I digress...

We learned a few things during our New Year No Spend flop.  We learned that first and foremost, you can't go into a no spend month without showing yourself grace. 

The goal behind a no spend month is not to do it perfect.  The goal is to embark on a family challenge -- to try as a family to live outside of our comfort zones, to get by with less and to discover fun, creative ways to do so!

So for this particular August we plan to tackle our #Squadgoals by doing the following:

• We planned 10 dinner meals and bought double the ingredients.  So 10 x 2 = 20 meals for the month of August with the goal of eating leftovers for lunches.  Last night a friend graciously watched Mack & Levi so we went out for one last date night and we did some MAJOR grocery shopping.  The idea behind doing our grocery shopping prior to August is that we are well planned and won't be making any sporadic Target trips that will have us leaving with a cart full of unbudgeted extras. 

• As a family, will spend the month purging extra-- whether that's through donating, recycling or selling on Facebook Yard Sale sites.  If you haven't heard of these, search for one on Facebook for one in or near your city.  Yard Sale sites are brilliant. 

• We will be resourceful.  We will be hitting up the Denver splash pads instead of paying to go swimming.  We will swap our garden produce for any food that we run out of.  We've already got a swap going where we regularly trade our garden veggies for farm fresh eggs!  Last summer we swapped for fresh dairy and locally made jam! 

• We will try our best not to waste.  We know from trying this in the past that we tend to be low on food towards the end of the month.  Because of this we will do our best to eat all of the leftovers and to go straight to our pantry when we are low on food instead of defaulting to an unplanned grocery store run.

• We MAY do a mid month produce run to our local fruit market.  We will go in with a list and we will stick STRICTLY to it.  We've discovered that it is near impossible to do a no spend month without fresh fruit.  Otherwise, our kids end up snacking on cookies and junk food from the pantry.

• We will stay OUT OF TARGET.  It's just a slippery slope friends.  You walk in for butter and you end up with a cute mug and a cart full of dollar section finds to the tune of an extra $27.50.  We're just going to say no to Target this month. 

• We will have fun!  We try our best to include Mack and Levi and to make this a family adventure!  We want our kids to realize that trying new, hard things can be exciting! 

I will end by saying that in the past we have had several friends try this with us and they have done their own modified versions of a no spend month.  There are no set rules.  You get to make your own!

If you are intrigued and you don't know that you can do a whole month of no spending, then maybe just try it for two weeks. 

Or, sit down as a family and write out a ways that you can embrace a no spend month without going so drastic.  Figure out ways to cut spending from your budget.  Plan to cut the excess and donate what you don't need.  Take a look at your city's event calendar and try out some free events instead of spending money on family outings.  The sky really is the limit.

We hope you'll follow along with us for the month of August!

#Squadgoals

To read about our how our other no spend challenges have gone you can check out these past posts:

New Year No Spend Recap, No Spend August Recap

Taking Off the Poker Face

Recently my sweet friend Emily told a story on her blog about the moment she let her poker face slip with her two young boys.  In the midst of a calm and relaxing afternoon, one of her sons dropped a spider into her lap.  At eight months pregnant, Emily immediately jumped up from her chair and ran screaming.  In that moment she "destroyed her calm, parenting face."  I'm still giggling at the mental image of my friend running around her yard, baby belly in tow. 

For several weeks now since reading her post, that phrase poker face has been rolling around in my head.  This morning as I was lying in bed I suddenly had a small epiphany.  I've been struggling to write for the past several months because I've been afraid to let my poker face slip.

We all have one.  A poker face, that is.  A blank expression that hides one's true feelings.  Some would even go so far as to call it a resting bitch face ;)

Call it what it is, we all have some version of the poker face and we put it on when we're scared or feeling most vulnerable. 

As little girls, we learned to nail that poker face right about the time we entered junior high -- as cliques of nail polish and lip gloss wearing girls began to form and boys began to notice or not notice us.

For me, my poker face has carried over into adulthood.  It gets plastered on the second I walk into a room full of pretty mommas with diaper bags and coffee tumblers.

Over time, this blog Little Mountain Momma has become the one of the only places that I can authentically shed my poker face and be raw honest about who I am.  Perhaps it's easier for me to sit behind a computer screen and share my heart than it is to stand face to face with another woman and risk judgement or disapproval. 

When I first began writing on this blog, I was beginning to heal from postpartum depression.  We had just moved to Colorado.  I didn't have any friends in our new city. The decision to write and share was like sticking my toes into a pool of cold water for the first time -- I was bravely hoping that the ripples I was creating would somehow lead to a connection with other women who were feeling the same way.

What I found was that those ripples turned into waves. As I began to share that I was hurting -- and just plain scared of this unchartered journey called motherhood, dozens of women began to speak up about their own journeys.  Precious, brave women began to reach out and say, "Me too!" 

The feeling was exhilarating and powerful.  For the first time in  my life I began to discover that I wasn't the only one desiring to be really seen and known! 

One of my favorite authors Brene Brown writes in her book The Gifts of Imperfection, "Authenticity is a collection of choices that we have to make everyday.  It's about the choice to show up and be real.  The choice to be honest.  The choice to let our true selves be seen."

It's that part about authenticity being a daily choice that's a real struggle for me. At times over the past five years of writing, it's been tempting to retreat back to the image of perfection and having it all together. 

I find myself sharing so much of myself on my blog and social media platforms that I catch myself drawing back, wondering if I've become too authentic, too honest and raw.  I wonder if at some point I've become an oversharer. 

It's a balancing act as a writer to maintain a sense of privacy and dignity while also deeply desiring to connect with others authentically. The tough stuff like going through postpartum depression, losing babies to miscarriage and the disappointment of trying to get pregnant month after month.  The seasons where my marriage is struggling and my friendships aren't thriving.

A few months back I published a post while on our family vacation to Florida.  In this post I shared pictures of myself on the beach wearing a dress that was sent to me by the company Pink Blush as a way to promote their new Spring line. 

The real story behind that post was that my husband and I argued all the way to the beach.  We fought and the kids cried in the backseat.  It was hardly my proudest moment as a wife and momma.  I was so focused on honoring my commitment to Pink Blush to model their clothing, that I was willing to sacrifice our time as a family just to get the perfect inauthentic photos.

The truth is, my poker face was plastered on for that Pink Blush photo shoot. I felt like such a fraud in that moment.  I was angry at my husband and I didn't even want to play with my babies at the beach.  And this was a vacation we had been planning for over a year! 

After apologies and amends were made with my family, I made the decision to step back from blogging and social media permanently until I could figure out a way to get back to doing it authentically and without my poker face on. 

If you are a follower of my writing and (or) any of my social media pages, you may have noticed my absence.  Or, maybe you haven't.  In which case, surprise!  I've been missing for a while ;)

Taking a break from writing and sharing on social media has meant a few things for me. 

It has meant that I've actually seen my children.  I've watched their faces while playing and my thoughts haven't revolved around taking their pictures to share with the world.  We've taught and learned to ride a two wheeler, had family dinners, built a garden, gone hiking, taken trips, played in the sprinklers, had picnics.  We've lived for a few months and I haven't felt the need to display our lives for all of our friends and acquaintances and yes, even perfect strangers to see. 

It's been beautiful and refreshing. 

Taking a break has meant making the decision to permanently turn down companies and sponsors.  Free clothes are great.  It's flattering to be contacted by companies who like my writing and want me to advertise for them.  But, that's not why I began writing.  That lifestyle of blogging just isn't authentically me. 

So, I'm back. I think ;)  At least I hope to be. 

I'm practicing taking off the poker face and I plan to slowly get back to writing and sharing my heart.  Just minus the free clothes and sponsored posts.  I find that I'm most alive when I'm making connections with other women through writing when it isn't forced and fake.  Perhaps, my most authentic self is that I'm an oversharer.  And maybe that's okay.  Maybe that's how Jesus uses me best. 

Flourishing in Rest

I wake to writhing pain in my lower back.  I sit up to look at the clock.  10:15 pm.  My husband is sleeping soundly next to me and our six-week-old baby is in her crib in the next room.  I lean back on my pillow and begin to toss and turn, breathing through the pain as it worsens.  A half hour goes by.  I climb out of bed and stumble to the tiny, bathroom of our 500 square foot Chicago apartment. 

The pain has moved from one side of my back and has taken over my abdomen in charley horse fashion.  I clutch my stomach with one arm while trying to rub out the cramping with my free hand.  I begin to gulp water only to vomit it immediately back up.  After an hour I crawl back to our bedroom.  “Babe.  We have to go to the hospital. I am so sick.” 

I don’t know who to call to watch our 6-week-old daughter but I’m able to remember a conversation had by a new friend from a few weeks prior. “I live right down the street.  If you need anything, don’t hesitate.”  I press the dial button and wake her up.  “Lauren… It’s Brittany.  I know this is a strange request but can you please come watch my baby?”

In the emergency room I describe my pain as a 10, while I continue to dive for the nearest trash baskets.  My sweet husband holds my hair helplessly as we wait to be called back. 

After a CT scan and some heavy drugs, I’m told that I have kidney stones and am severely dehydrated with multiple infections. They plan to admit me.  In that moment, sweet relief washes over my whole body.  I recall having the thought, “Thank you! Finally, I can sleep.  I can rest!”  My thoughts of relief in that moment should have been a wakeup call to my postpartum self.  The first 6 weeks as a brand new momma had been incredibly rough and it was clearly taking its toll. 

I didn’t share this thought with my husband until years later.  At the time I was ashamed that I wanted to stay in the hospital rather than care for my newborn daughter.    

I share this memory to make a point -- often as mommas, we take on the role of martyr before we are willing to accept that we desperately need rest and self-care.  It took kidney stones and a forced hospital stay before finally waving my white flag of surrender. 

I wish I could say that in the seven years since becoming a momma, I’ve learned my lesson on caring for myself.  I wish I could share that I’ve mastered this “rest thing” and that I’m the poster girl for how it’s done well and balanced. 

But the truth is, I’m still awful at it.   On a daily basis I am physically tired and emotionally burned out from never getting it “right.”

You see, I can’t remember the last time I “slept in.”  I was blessed (ha!) with two early risers who are up with the sun most days.  The second their little feet hit the floor, my toddler demands a “snack” (also known in most American homes as breakfast).  I pack lunches, get kiddos dressed, drive to and from school.  During nap time I list on EBay and package shipments because that’s how I get to be a stay at home momma.  Except, I’m really not because twice a week I work outside of the home for a sweet little elderly woman who needs some extra help.  And then there’s school pickup, homework, dinner, bath, and bedtime stories.    

Does this sound familiar to any of you mommas?  How in the world would one even find time for rest and self-care?  In theory, this idea of rest sounds nice.  But in the real world, rest gets pushed to the back burner of my priority list. 

Last month I took a long weekend off from caring for my own family to fly out to visit a close friend Pam, in North Carolina.  Now, Pam has two children under three years old and a husband who works long hours.  I knew when booking my plane ticket that I would likely be stepping in to help wrangle toddler chaos.  I also assumed that I would be sleeping on her living room couch.  I was perfectly okay with this.  I resigned myself to write “rest” off of my personal agenda for the weekend and to just enjoy the much needed time with my friend. 

Upon arriving to her home, Pam showed me upstairs to a beautiful, newly remodeled guest room with a large bathroom and a king sized bed.  The view from the room overlooked the breathtaking countryside of the North Carolina Mountain Foothills. 

If only you could have seen my face the very moment I realized that this would in fact be a weekend of rest.  It was like the relief I felt from that night back in the emergency room. 

The next morning Pam brought coffee to my room and I was able to drink it in blissful silence.  In the evenings I went running with no jogging stroller or children begging to get out of the mobile prison (as I’m sure this is how my children feel about my jogging stroller at this point). 

During nap times, Pam and I had a chance to sit for hours and talk.  During these hours I poured out painful details of the past year while my friend listened and offered wisdom. 

This past year in particular has been anything but restful.  After our second miscarriage in September I took up the task of “fixing” myself.  I’ve poured my blood, sweat and tears into charting temperatures, tracking hormones, timing sex perfectly and doing naked headstands.  You’re welcome, for that mental image.  I’ve watched dozens of women around me celebrate as they enter seasons of pregnancy and new motherhood while I’ve sat on the sidelines licking my wounds and wondering when God decided I was old news. 

Since September we’ve heard a dozen devotionals and messages at our MOPS  Bible Study meetings centered around flourishing in our present seasons and celebrating lavishly.  My confession to Pam that weekend (and my confession to you today) is this:  I have hardly felt the flourishing and I have done anything but celebrate this year.  In my deepest core I have felt like a scam.  I have felt beat up, angry and downright exhausted. 

There has been no rest because I wouldn’t have it. 

Resting would mean surrendering my agenda and my control to the God who failed me last September.  Resting would mean choosing to accept that my season of current heartache and brokenness was part of God’s plan. Why would God choose me to go through heartache I’ve been forced to watch so many women celebrate lavishly?

As I sat with Pam (who at the time was 4 weeks pregnant… God has a sense of humor, right?), Pam said to me, “Brittany, every single thing that God does is intentional.  It is no coincidence that you lost your baby while four women in your discussion group are now pregnant.  That is no accident.  That’s how he sanctifies you!  That is how He has chosen to sanctify these mommas!  God chose a season of mourning to sanctify you and to make you more like Him.”  

Thank you Lord…. I think? 

Pam’s words sunk deep.  It was as though a well of water was suddenly released over my dry and parched heart the moment I chose to listen and take hold of this truth. 

There are no accidents.  Every single detail of our lives are intentional and for the purpose of our sanctification.  The seasons of celebrating lavishly and the seasons of heartache and mourning. 

Maybe you’ve been in a similar season?  Maybe, you’ve shown up to Bible study this year and have sat bitterly fighting back tears as women around you have flourished.  As they’ve shared joyful news of new babies and of thriving marriages. 

Perhaps, you too have left wondering, “How, God?  How do I celebrate with them when I’m just so sad?” 

While I don’t know each of you individually, I would be willing to bet that I’m not the only momma  who has battled these thoughts this year. 

The unexpected gift that I received during my weekend at Pam’s house was rest. 

I left feeling more alive and more filled up in than I have in a long time.  I left with a deep sense that God is asking me to move with Him into a new season; a season of healing and restoration.  As my friend Nicole shared in our Bible study devotional recently, often it is the unearthing and the pruning of the soil of our hearts that must come before the flourishing.  God is teaching me that in HIS strength I must learn to celebrate lavishly with women who are in seasons of joy, even when I’m not feeling joyful.

It took a weekend of silencing the noise around me, of accepting rest as a good and necessary practice, for God to bring me into a new season of surrender and healing. 

I don’t know what’s in store for the future of our family. 

But this I do know – God loves me (and you!) deeply and fiercely.  He has not forgotten about us.  On the most painful days of this sanctifying journey, He is present.  Perhaps, in these particular seasons of pain and heartache, He does His best work when we rest into him.  When we surrender our weary bodies into the arms of a Father who hurts with us and wants to bring beauty from the ashes.  When we are still and silent and finally ready to listen. 

Jesus says in Mathew 11:28, “Come to me all who are weary and I will give you rest.”  I humbly confess that I’ve never loved this verse. It’s always felt much easier said than done.  Come to Jesus and He will give rest?  Does Jesus really understand my life as a momma?  The early mornings and the sleepless nights and the "going, going, going" that is in the in between?

I think I finally get it though.  It is through the surrender of our busyness and constant attempts to control life that we finally give way to rest.  It is how we open ourselves up to true healing and it is only then that the sanctification can take place.  It is through the discipline and cultivation of rest that we discover how to truly flourish and celebrate lavishly. 

Still That Girl

You hear that becoming a momma is the most beautiful thing.  You hear of the ways your babies will reach right and grab your heart and never let go. And every bit of it is the truth.  I wouldn't trade this momma role for a single second. 

But good heavens, there have been days and even months over the past seven years of this journey that I have wished that girl back. 

You know, that girl I'm talking about. That girl that I was before my body was changed and reshaped by this beautiful thing called motherhood.  Because, while motherhood itself is such a beautiful thing... I haven't often felt like my body has fallen in line with that beauty.

There have many, many days that I have been downright embarrassed by the new me.  I've been ashamed of the curves and the extra pillows of skin that have formed along my hips and tummy.  The tired eyes that I often see in the mirror make me wistful for that girl that once felt full of energy and restful nights. 

If I'm really being honest, the past six months in particular have been really hard on me physically.  I've battled depression and I've gained some extra weight.  I'm embarrassed just to admit that, but in keeping with the consistency and the honesty of what I desire for my writing to be, I feel like I need to share for any other women who have been in this same place.   

When Pink Blush contacted me to review some of their clothing, I was like a little girl on Christmas morning!  I absolutely LOVE the Pink Blush women's line and I was so excited to shop for our upcoming family vacation.  What I wasn't thrilled about was shopping for the body I've been trying so hard to cover over the winter months. 

I chose this Navy Colorblock Maxi Dress and am absolutely thrilled with the fit.  I'm only 5'1 but this maxi dress is 55" from shoulder to bottom hem and is the perfect length to pair with some heeled shoes. 

I also love that the neckline is modest and fits snug so that I'm not revealing too much skin.  Because I'm smaller busted I'm always a little more insecure about how tops and dresses fit me. I often find that clothes fit looser and are less flattering for smaller frames.  

This maxi dress allows for the perfect balance of modesty while also making me feel beautiful.

This Pink Blush Colorblock Maxi Dress also comes in black, aqua, grey & taupe.  Right now it can be purchased through their site for $46 + Free Shipping.  And if you signup for the Pink Blush email list you'll get an extra 15 % off your first purchase.

Our family enjoyed an evening out to dinner in the Florida sunshine.  Jeremy's top is from Old Navy.  Mack & Levi are both sporting the current Target spring line.

I chose this Pink and White Tribal Print Dress  for our family trip to the beach.  For a cool night, this was the perfect dress to keep my arms covered while also allowing me to dip my feet into the ocean.

The bow on this dress is just perfect.

This particular dress is no longer in stock but Pink Blush has so many cute tribal prints available this season! I've been eyeing this adorable Tribal Print Dressing Robe for $41!

Motherhood hasn't lessened my beauty.  In fact, it's added to it.  The curves and extra weight remind me of pregnancy and how my body nourished life for 10 long months.  The tired eyes are a reminder of the 2 am cuddles with my baby who is growing up all too quickly. 

Slipping on my Pink Blush clothing reminded me that I am still that girl.  I'm still the girl who deserves to feel beautiful when I look into the mirror. I'm still that girl who loves to get dressed up and go out with my girl friends on a Friday night!

And YOU deserve it too.  You are still that girl.  You deserve to feel beautiful because you are beautiful. Which is why today through Tuesday, March 8th at 12 am MST, Pink Blush is giving away a $50 gift card to one of you lovely mommas.

 All you have to do is enter below!  I can't wait to find out which of you is going to get to go shopping!  And also, a side note -- If you aren't the winner of this giveaway, right now Pink Blush is offering an additional 50 % off of their clearance section so there are some really great deals right now! 

*Disclosure -- this is a compensated post.  I was sent free product by the company Pink Blush but all opinions are my own.

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