I didn't choose to not believe in God, it just happened.

I grew up in a small town, a God-fearing, farming community. My parents never brought me to church, it just wasn't in their day planner. So I found ways to "fit in" and go with anyone who invited me. I had to know what all the fuss was about.


I attended Vacation Bible Study with one of my childhood friends, on multiple occasions. I even went to Sunday services with them when allowed. When I became a teenager I started attending a youth group during the week, and I regularly went to church, and youth on Sundays as well. I willingly went to Church. I wasn't drug there by my parents. I called myself a Christian, and I smiled politely and talked to the members of the church, and I prayed for them outside of it. During this period of time, I probably read the bible from cover to back at least twice. I even sang the "I am a Christian" song at least a hundred times on the band bus with my friends. My Pastor even came to my home the day my Dad died to be there for me and my family. He cried with me, and he held my hands and he prayed for me during my time of need. He was one of the best men that I knew.  I wanted to believe so badly. I wanted to be that happy, God-reliant, giving my many worries to God type of person. The only problem was, I just wasn't.


I don't believe in God. I can say with complete certainty that I never really did. I was a square trying to fit into a circle. I put on the clothes and I stood in the crowd and I hoped that no one noticed that underneath my church clothes was a bright red dress. A dress I couldn't wear proudly for fear of being judged, a dress I felt uncomfortable in, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get off.


 Every time I tell someone how I really feel, I can see the judgment on their faces, the disappointment in their voice. You can tell they think less of me. It's like the type of person I am isn't as important as my religious category society has placed on me. Believe me when I say, I wish I could change the way I feel. It's like how you can't help who you love, I can't help how I feel. I'm not speaking for everyone, but for me, I tried to change my own views. I sang louder, I prayed harder, but no matter what I did, it just wasn't in my heart. It simply wasn't there. How long do you go to Church and walk out feeling like a fraud before you finally are honest with yourself? For me, years.


I'm not a horrible person. I'm a Mother to my 3 amazing little girls. I don't implant words of demons or tell them not to believe in God themselves. They can make their own decisions when they are old enough to understand. I donate my time and money to my community and my friends whenever I can. I think churches are amazing. They do great things for their members and our communities. Between the passion, the manners and their all around friendly attitudes, I feel at home there. I don't judge you for your belief in God, please don't judge me for my lack there of. I didn't choose to be a mean person when I chose not to go to church, I chose to be a good person without fear of Hell as retribution. I chose to be honest with myself.


Some day I may try again. I know if my kids ever want to go to church I will without a doubt put back on those church clothes over my pretty red dress, and I will open a hymn book and sing as loud as I can, but until such time, I'll do my best to be comfortable in my own skin.

I am a Mom, but it is not all that I am.

When you become a Mother you dedicate your entire life to being there for your children, and no, not just until they are 18, you are a Mom, forever. You somehow forget that woman who has her own wants and needs. You forget about you.

It's not just our own fault either, just about everyone around us is more worried about our children than they are us. We get lost in all the cute faces. When your family calls you they often don't ask how YOU are doing, they ask how the kids are. It's great to have family that cares about your kids, but come on, you are a person too! It's time that we learn to take care of ourselves as well as we take care of our kids.

I've given so much to my family lately that I've been slacking on my own health. I've stopped going to counseling because I don't want to miss out on that family time or spend that extra money. I stopped doing things I enjoyed doing because I didn't want to slack on house work. I've been suffering through my panic attacks because I'm planning on housing a tiny human despite my doctors saying my anxiety medication would be fine during pregnancy. Everything that I've been doing lately has been all about my kids, and while it's honorable, and it's how I like things to be, it certainly isn't healthy.

It's okay to think about ourselves sometimes ladies. I put myself on the back burner too. I forget it's okay to put off the laundry until morning because I'm so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open. It's okay to cry because I'm so overwhelmed. It's okay to do something for ourselves. Join the gym only because YOU feel like it. Eat some chocolate and don't share. Have that glass of wine and read your book. Go to sleep early because you're tired and you need rest. Do something for you.

And if you know a Mom who has lost her identity in the consumption of Motherhood, make her a priority sometimes. Ask how SHE is doing once in a while. Odds are we will tell you we are fine either way, but you may catch us on a day when we really need that moment to talk about ourselves. We had an identity before we became Mothers, and that doesn't completely go away just because we procreated.

Spend some time with yourself, Mom's. It's okay. We all know you are just doing the best that you can.

Things My Daughter Never Let's Me Forget

So my daughter is 4. If you've ever had a 4 year old you know that they are great at remembering that you promised them ice cream 2 weeks ago, but seem to forget that 5 minutes ago you told them to pick up their toys. My daughter's memory works out very similar.  She tends to remind me of all those (Mom)ents of my life that I would rather forget.

So here is my list of things my Daughter just won't let me forget:

That time I let her out of the car last and her Sisters got to see a toad and she didn't. 

"Remember that time Dad let our car float away in the river?" Oh believe me dear, I could never forget that. 

"Last week you said we could get ice cream after school, but you forgot."

Every time I fall or trip over something and she laughs at me for hours.

When I promised to read two bedtime stories but when bedtime comes I'm so tired I only feel like reading one.

That time I left my wallet at home and we had to put all our groceries back.

Last week when I spilled coffee down my shirt and said a really bad word. Okay, lots of bad words.

"Mommy, are you going to put my shirt on backwards again!?"

When I looked away for just a second during ballet and missed her big spin.

That time I dropped her cookie on the ground...in the rain....

Apparently I do a lot of horrible unforgettable things.

Everyone's Got an Opinion

The moment you become a parent you automatically open yourself up to everyone else's opinions and advice about how you should raise your children. You will probably even begin to get it from the moment they find out you are pregnant. While it's natural for your friends and your family to give you input, after all, it takes a village, there is a line you have to draw for yourself, and for your kids.


I often hear about how "strict" I am, or how set in my ways I am about things my kids should or shouldn't do, or things that are acceptable for myself as a Mother and things that my kids other parental figures should or should not be doing. I am their Mother after all. I'll admit it, I do not make it easy to co-parent with, or for you to watch my children. It is my personal opinion, not opinion, but my knowledge that no one can parent my children better than me. It's just the cold hard truth. Parenting is something I take quite seriously, and I think it is only natural for parents to feel like they are the best possible parent for their child, because if you don't feel that way, then you should be doing better by your own standards.


So I will go ahead and openly admit, I KNOW I AM A STRICT PARENT! You don't have to tell me thinking it will change my parenting, or make me realize I'm doing something horribly wrong. My Mother often tells me to lighten up, and while I love her dearly, I am not her, and these are not her kids. I will continue to be a strict parent because it's the best way I know how to parent my children. While she may not be willing to admit it, she and my Father were also strict, and imagine that, my Brother and I have morals, and manners. I would also consider my Husband's upbringing strict and he also has morals, and manners. 2 of the most important qualities I believe are worth having and teaching to your children. A lot of people I know who did not grow up in strict environments are severely lacking in those 2 things.


So yes, we make our kids sit at the table until they are done eating, say their "Yes Ma'am's and No Sir's," when visiting someone else's house we make sure they follow the house rules and treat someone else's home with respect, we require things be asked for politely or you will not get them at all, if you aren't going to play nice you don't get to play at all, and you can listen to your Mom and Dad or go spend some time in time out. We also raise our voices when deemed necessary as we don't negotiate with tiny terrorists. ;)  However, in our home we also have dance parties, tickle fights, LOTS of park days, bed time stories, cuddle time, pile ups on the floor, rough housing, family movie nights, board games, family meals and lots of learning. We also make sure we consistently tell them how much we love them, hug and kiss on them constantly, and we always let them know how beautiful they are and how proud we are of them. I don't go a single day without telling Abby or the girls how beautiful they are, how much I love them, and how proud I am of them. They are such amazing kids and we are so fortunate. My most unconventional views on parenting are probably my stance on religion and sexual orientation, because I don't have a preference for my children in those departments. I want them to be who they want to be, as long as they are loving, honorable, polite individuals, the rest is just details. My hope is for my children to make the world a little less dark, because for me, they've made it a whole lot brighter.


Not all parents should parent the same, because not all parents are the same, and their children are not the same. I know Mom's who are wonderful and have completely different rules or opinions than mine. The point is, you need to be the parent you want to be. You know what works best for your home and what doesn't, and what works for you doesn't work for everyone else, and that's okay. I am not ashamed of the kind of parent I am, and I won't be. My children are happy in their structured home.  We laugh a lot, learn a lot, and love a lot. I couldn't ask for anything more.

The World is Good

Today was ...for lack of a better word, crazy. I brought all 3 kids to Wal-mart, all by myself. It started out how any bad trip to the store does, the kids start fighting. All of the arguing sends Analise into a full on arching her back, flailing screaming tantrum. I go through 3 isles this way before I go to the produce section, grab a bag of grapes and starting giving each child a hand full. This calms them immediately while an older lady smiles at me and says, "I use to do the same thing! You have beautiful daughters." I smiled politely and thanked her.

We continue on now that we have grapes in our mouths. We make it through one isle before all of the grapes are gone, and dispite the fact that my oldest was suppose to be sharing and distributing the grapes to her sisters, she was eating them all to herself. Well, naturally this irritated me. I had to seperate out more grapes while Adison threw them on the floor and started screaming, followed by smashing the bread. And then it stops. She likes how the bread feels being squished...so every time I turn around I have to remove her hand from the bread and try to find somewhere else that she can not reach it, which also triggers crying. I have many people who feel sorry for me and smile at me, or try to offer tips to calm my screaming children, like I haven't already tried it all.

We finally survived the shopping portion of the store, and are in the check out, when I realize I forgot my debit card in the car....and our cart is already full of groceries. This means I have to take all the kids off of the cart, and carry them while running to get my card. Well, we survive that as well. Unfortunately our cashier is like in his 80's, and moves at less than a mile per hour....cue the screaming. After getting my $200 dollar total...for the "real quick" trip that I was suppose to make. Everything starts to fall of the top of the heaving cart and I'm about to cry. I get half way to the door and notice the lady who had spoken to me earlier walking up to me.

She put her hand on my shoulder and said, "Honey, we have all been there." She told me that she and her husband would like to help me out to the car. He grabs the cart and starts pushing, not really giving me much of a choice. I didn't worry too much since he was wearing a Veterans hat. He wouldn't let me grab any of the groceries myself and his wife helped me get the kids in the car. She gave me a hug before leaving and told me to be careful, they wished the twins a happy birthday and took my cart back.

This wasn't something she and her husband had to do, but they most definitely went out of their way to do it. I have no idea how long they were standing near the check out waiting for me to walk by, but it couldn't have been a short amount of time. I don't think I could have conveyed to them how much I appreciated their help in that moment. But they helped a stressed out Mom on the verge of tears to her car, and they didn't ask for anything in return. I don't know if they could see the break down that was coming, or the crazy in my eyes, but I'm so glad they were there not just to show me that there is still good left in this world, but to show my kids. Who knew there are still good people in Muncie, Indiana, the town with a climbing crime rate and dropping employment. I do not not know your names, but thank you for your act of kindness, and Sir, thank you for your service to our country!

I can't make your team, so I'll make my own

I've never been a person who is confident in my abilities. I loved volleyball in high school. It was my favorite sport. I wasn't great at serving, but I was good at being in the back row and hitting that ball hard enough to get it where it needed to be. I loved it. But when it came up that I would need to try out to get on the teams in high school, I quit. I never gave it a second thought because I was too embarrassed, too afraid to try out. That pretty much sums up my life. I joined the clubs and organizations I could be in that didn't require trying out. I didn't apply to any colleges that could turn me down because I was too afraid to get that "I'm sorry" letter. I loved band. I loved being good at it, I loved learning new music, and I loved when I finally got to be section leader. However, we lost 2 band instructors, and he required me being on the spot in front of everyone when I played, and I quit. My entire life I've never been confident to stand up in front of everyone and say I'm good at something, or give it my all to do something I love. That has never been who I am. My confidence was so poor that in high school I started dating anyone and everyone who told me I was pretty or showed me attention. I was broken.

At 17 I peed on a stick, and then I cried while standing over that stick realizing I wouldn't go to college and have fun with my friends. I walked across the stage at my high school 2 months pregnant. 9 months later I cried when I woke up in labor, scared, terrified and engaged to a man I didn't love but had to be with. Less than 24 hours later I cried again when I held a beautiful little girl in my arms. I knew that nothing else ever mattered and nothing could ever matter more than she does.

I didn't realize it then, but that first year of her life was a try out. I was proving I could be a Mother, that I could be a good Mother. I may not have been the best volleyball player, the prettiest cheerleader, the most creative writer on the newspaper and I definitely wasn't accepted into Harvard or any other highly respected schools, but I survived my most important try out ever. Not only did I survive it, but I excelled at it. I didn't read the 15 baby books I bought or buy all organic food and breastfeed until she was 3, but every single night and day, I was home with my daughter. I taught her everything she needed to know, I nurtured her, I protected her and I played with her. I did all the things I had to do to be the best Mother I could be to the best of my abilities at 18.

So here I am at 23, having passed my tryouts to be a Mom at 18, and passed my tryouts to be a twin Mom 3 years later. And I hope I pass my next one. We are trying for baby #4 :) And yes, I'm aware how insane that sounds, but being a Mom is all I ever wanted without knowing I wanted it. I want my babies close enough in age that they can all be close, because it's important to be surrounded by those who love you, by those who can build confidence in you. I want to raise my girls to know their worth, to know they are strong enough, smart enough, and capable enough to accomplish everything they want to accomplish in life. Yes, I will go back to school at some point, but that's not the most important work I will do. The most important moments of my life will take place within the four walls of our home, with my husband who happens to be an amazing father, and our four children who happen to be the center of our universe.