These Days

These Days

These days are not what I expected they would be. They are both harder and better. More chaotic and more satisfying. I thought the tired-eyed, fuzzy-headed, new mom thing would have worn off by now, but it hasn’t. And at this point, I’m not so certain it is going anywhere. It has become my new normal, as they say.

These days are filled with balancing schedules, written assignments, collecting sticks in the backyard, over and over and over, picking up sticks and goldfish crumbs and colorful blocks on the living room floor, writing blogs and grocery lists, that long drive to class twice a week, evenings with my parents or the Whites, watching Friends or This Is Us, squeezing in a date night, and praying for a full night’s sleep. I’m consistently equal parts exhausted and thrilled, content and restless.


These days I wear a lot of hats, and I don’t always do a very good job of switching them out or determining which to put on when. On any given day, I am a wife, mom, student, daughter, friend, blogger, photographer, and volunteer. I’m either always home or not home near enough, in my own estimation. These days I wonder if I am doing enough or being enough to the ones in my circle. I’m usually anxious with these thoughts, and I wonder if there will ever be a day where I stop asking myself that question of enough.

These days have been both kind and challenging. And I am learning how to navigate the waters so that my response is the same either way. These days, I cuss more than I ought to, usually out of response to a sleepless toddler, and I rarely operate at full brain capacity. By noon, my hair is typically still in the same position it was yesterday, only slightly more disheveled, and I’m lucky if my pants are made of something other than stretchy fabric. I forget to eat because who has time for that kind of nonsense when you are writing midterms and chasing around a wild little boy?


These days are precious and fleeting, and I want to spend more time focusing on the blessings and less time wishing things were easier.

But on the other hand, I am alive and healthy. I wake up to the sun rising and I thank God for another day and breath in my lungs. I’m working toward a degree and, by God’s grace, I am able to make that investment while being a mom. I get to watch my son learn new things every single day, and it is incredible. I am clothed and fed (when I remember to eat) and I have the most amazing husband and community surrounding me. These days are precious and fleeting, and I want to spend more time focusing on the blessings and less time wishing things were easier; because I’m learning that when one thing gets easier, something else just gets harder. There is no easy pass through life, where you can skirt by untouched or untainted. And I’m realizing it does no good to long for a reality that is not your own.


I don’t know what “these days” look like for you. Although I am fairly certain that they are a smattering of good and hard things. I hope, in the midst of navigating your own oceans, you are intrinsically aware that right now, at this very moment, God is still good, life is still beautiful, and you are precisely enough. And I hope that awareness allows you the permission to celebrate these simple, precious, exhausting, wonderful days.






Fostering Thankfulness

Fostering Thankfulness

An Open Invitation

An Open Invitation