When I became a mother to Lillie, I didn’t think it was possible to love another child like I loved her. My whole world was wrapped up in that girl, and oh how I loved it! Then 25 months after her birth, God gave us Evy, and I was proven wrong. My love for Lillie in no way shrank, instead my capacity to love them both exploded. I now had my precocious, firecracker and this new precious baby girl.

As a toddler, Evy was much more mild-mannered than her sister. We wondered if she would ever start talking, or if she would be content to sit and listen to her sister be the center of attention. About age 3, Evy found her voice and her Evy sparkle. She had this adorable sass, as if she was ready to strut her stuff on a catwalk. She loved dancing, singing, and puppies!

Today, my 11 year old is very different from the sassy sparkler from her younger years. She’s a 16-year-old trapped in an 11-year-old’s body, and she’s much more reserved. Although singing and dancing are not quite as high on her list, dogs are still near the top. Don’t worry though, she’s found a new expressive flare in the form of makeup. She’s a budding artist who is going to go on to do amazing things in the world of makeup design.

My Evangeline is a song of praise to God. She has a heart of service, a love of beauty, and a calming spirit. Happy Birthday, Sweet Girl. I’m one blessed and grateful mom!

If you look at my Pinterest board, you’ll see hundreds of pins related to home remodeling projects. I have spent hours researching and planning. As of October, we officially began a journey I thought we’d never take. We’re remodeling the kitchen, upstairs living room, dining room, the girls’ bathroom (with inside laundry closet), and replacing the flooring on our carpeted stairs. It’s a dream come true, and I am beyond grateful to God for allowing this to happen!

My home is a modest sized late 70’s ranch-style home. From the front, it looks like every other typical brick rambler in middle Tennessee. But what I adore about my home is location, the lot, and the fully-finished walk-out basement, which is a rare find in the city where I live. I’m a mid-Western girl, so to have a basement family room was always my vision. When we bought this house 7 years ago, I knew we’d eventually want to make improvements to this house, but just living here was a huge blessing. Starting in a few short weeks, our home will undergo a facelift.

Along the way, I’ll be sharing pictures of this journey. I’m not great at habitually documenting details with pictures, but I’ll do my best. God willing, by early summer, we’ll be done! Here are some current photos of our home.

When my girls were very little, birthdays were extremely sad for me. With every year that passed by, it was one more year that my babies were no longer babies. I'd have to repeat the mantra "don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." I think once both my girls crossed the threshold of double digits, it finally became easier to watch them get older. Now, my oldest baby Lillie is 13!

My tiny, squeaky-voiced, precocious toddler that was constantly on the move is now this charming, talented, and charismatic teenager. She challenges me to remain humble to the Lord on how to parent her, and then she melts my heart with her warmth and hugs.

Lillie is explosive in every way. She bursts with laughter, shouts with anger, acts with passion, and shines bright with creativity. One minute I’m crying out of frustration, and the next minute I’m overcome with appreciation for my sweet girl.

If you have a “tough kid,” thank God for him or her. He has amazing plans for the ones who push the boundaries, question the rules, and color outside the lines. Because of their passion and ambitious determination, they are ones who bravely chart new paths that lead to new discoveries. I have that kid, and she’s pretty great!

If you’re like me, the holidays invoke a need to serve those who are less fortunate. I love this part of Christmas! Collectively looking outside ourselves to serve and help others is at the heart of the holidays. This year, with the headache and heartache of Covid, I want to up my giving-game.

As I was searching my Christmas Pinterest board this morning, I came across a pin that I forgot I had. It was a link to an article that advises how to put a meaningful and helpful care package together for those in the homeless community. As my girls and I are spending a whole lot more time together this holiday season, we’re going to take this time to give back in a bigger way.

Many of the suggestions in this article are a more costly, so you may only be able to do one or two care packages. If you want to do more, this would be a great activity to do with multiple families or even a youth group. It would be easy to take this list, divide it up and buy multiples of each item. Of course with Covid, please take caution in avoiding large gatherings to assemble the items.

I ask this question because as a parent, God’s love has been revealed to me in a way I had not seen before I became one. Not a day goes by that I do not instinctively and willingly set out to meet the needs of my girls and show them undying love. I have a greater understanding of why God went to the lengths he did to pursue and rescue us. My sacrifice for my children is a mere reflection of God’s sacrifice for me.

Yet in full confession, there are times I simply do not like my girls. There will be periods of time when I would rather be anywhere else than with them. There are days where our nightly tuck-in ritual can't come soon enough just so that I can tell them goodnight. And when we’re going through rough patches with behavior, it’s only by the grace of God and his provision that I make it through the day.

If what I just described makes you cringe, let me ease your mind. Of course this is not all the time, and more often than not, life is best when the four of us are together. But let's be real: it’s common for moms and dads to struggle with periods of dislike for their beloved offspring, and we all need the grace to admit it - guilt free!

My conscience is at ease and I'm ok with my admission because I believe that God has feelings of disliking for us too. Just like the defiance of my girls makes me dislike them for a period of time, doesn't it stand to reckon that God feels the same way about me when I defy him? Defiance causes discord, and discord is undesirable to anyone, so surely this includes our heavenly father!

The periods of time when I don't like my girls are as fleeting as the wind, and they never equate to unloved. My commitment to my family is God-breathed, and it’s the same kind of devotion he has for me as his daughter. I’m still a good mom, even when I can’t stand my girls. At the end of the day, I will continually love them, encourage them, cheer them on, doctor them up, and nurture them. They know I am deeply committed, even when they get on my last nerve.

This painful reality is my wake-up call from God. It’s time to open my eyes and see suffering and injustice in this world. My cause should be that of Christ’s! My actions going forward should be fueled by his cause, not one of politics or personal gain. His message is simple: obey God and love other people more than myself.

Not In It to Win It

People sometimes use religion to justify positions, especially around social and political topics. But Christianity was never intended to try and win arguments. In fact, it’s just the opposite.

North Point Community Church

This sermon delivered last Sunday was painful, but a much needed wake-up call!

Several weeks ago, I started a series of writings focused on helping moms of young(er) children make better decisions than I made when my girls were little. I wrote about consistently expecting my girls to pick up after themselves and how I failed to implement that practice when they were young. Picking up isn’t the only source of inconsistency in my parenting.

Clearly Define Rules and Consequences

I wish that I could sit here and testify to my personal success of defining rules and the plan for what happens if the rules are broken. When it comes to discipline, too many times I shot from the hip and created wishy washy expectations that led to inconsistent parenting.

Two years ago, my daughter’s psychologist introduced us to a parenting program called Positive Parenting with a Plan, and it has opened mine and Jeff’s eyes to just how inconsistent we’ve been. The premise is simple: Create the rules of the household that everyone is to follow, write them down and post them in several obvious places. The consequences for breaking a rule are explicitly stated, and we are to have weekly family meetings to go over the rules and consequences. If the girls have periods of time with no broken rules, or they demonstrate random acts of kindness, they earn tokens that equate to prizes of their choosing.

We are TRYING to stick to the program, and we see numerous good results from it. I can’t help but wonder though, how much better early childhood would have been for the girls if we had hard fast rules and a structured discipline system in place. With my perfect 20/20 hind sight, I plainly see there would have been fewer power struggles, and I would have been more evenly tempered with handling their acts of defiance. I’m convinced that a consistent discipline system would have helped build confidence and trust, knowing exactly where the boundaries were, and the benefits of starting early would have made parenting during this tween period a little easier.

One painful reality of a nebulous discipline system is that my reaction to the girls wasn’t always the same for the same offenses. Sometimes I’d come at them with my best mommy lecture, other times I’d overreact and lose my temper, and other times I’d let the disobedience go. My girls were robbed of having confidence built upon consistent cause and effect, and it created anxiety. For my oldest, who is my head strong and independent one, she often times felt the brunt of my inconsistencies, because she is a natural stove toucher and button pusher. She got more lectures and heat from our flared tempers, and she rarely got to experience the good behavior awards for making good decisions.

Be Encouraging!

It is crucial that when your young one (or older one) makes a good decision, you are very quick to praise her. Not the fake kind that is oozing with patronizing words, but the genuine kind that is targeted at her specific job well-done!

• “Hey, thank you for putting your clothes in the hamper without me reminding you.”
• “I appreciate you helping me fold these towels. It’s a big help to me.”
• “I’m really proud of the way you used kind words to ask your sister to give you your doll back. Good job!”

I don’t care who you are, attagirl or attaboy words of encouragement make a huge difference. For kids who are impulsive in their actions and their emotions, tapping into the positive side of parenting reaps better results. These kids beat themselves up, feeling like aren't good, so why even try. Habitually finding ways to highlight the good things they do spurs them on to more good behavior and attitudes. They feel empowered to make good things happen for themselves by their own good choices. Frankly, this is a much stronger movivator than any punishment, so make it your go-to.

Looking back on the priceless early years of my girls' lives, I can hardly recall moments of defiance and disrespect. I know they happened, but all I can think about is how much I want to wrap that precocious first born ball of energy in my arms and give her a big hug and kiss. I would give anything to sit and watch Evy methodically arrange every single one her puppies while procrastiniating from going to bed. Bad behavior is fleeting, and it does not define the true nature and character of your children. They are precious! They just need us to be consistent when their inevitable bad decisions pop up.

This was no small feat, considering the circumstances surrounding this day. Let’s be honest, who wants to celebrate this milestone in quarantine? Not me, and I felt cheated. There were no parties or getting gussied up to have a night out with friends. My in-laws drove over and we stood in the driveway in masks so they could wish me happy birthday! Not exactly my idea (or theirs) of feeling special. Knowing this would be my reality for this birthday, I struggled with my attitude all week. A birthday party was replaced by one big pity party for one. My grandiose moment to ring in my 40s felt like a failure.

On the eve of my 40th, I was about to close my laptop, and the wallpaper (which changes daily) was Lillie and me. It was a snapshot taken by Jeff within my first month of motherhood. It was taken first thing in the morning, and this was my absolute favorite part of the day with her. She and I would lay there for quite awhile and sometimes fall back asleep. The moment he captured was one of total contentment and fulfillment. I was a mother, and I was totally smitten with this precious, tiny angel lying next to me. There was no doubt in my mind that I was exactly who I wanted to be at that moment. I was a wife and mother.

I needed that image to be seared on my brain as I closed the chapter on my 30s. For whatever reason, I’ve always believed that milestones need to be met with monumental markers in time. Bringing in my 40s meant I needed to be at the pinnacle of achievement in my life. I’ve mastered life up to this point, with an amazing career, being in tiptop shape, reaching new heights in spiritual maturity, and finally figuring out how to excel at adulting. Let’s just say, that I’ve fallen short of this level of success, and I felt defeated.

Most of 2020 has turned out to be a lesson in compromise and adaptation. I’ve been cooped up with the same 4 people nonstop since early March, and let’s face it, we’re in for many more months too. My birthday is a reminder of the fact that my life is all about coping with unmet expectations, at least this with what I was wrestling with leading up to the eve of my 40th.

Glancing at that pic of Lillie and me from almost 13 years ago is exactly the image I needed. God delivered THE birthday gift I needed most, a reminder of my life’s values. That photo represents a turning point of when I chose to prioritize what will consume my time. Motherhood and full-time homemaking have been a life-long goal long before I even met Jeff. Yes, I went to college and pursued a degree, but I chose teaching as a means to an end. I always knew I’d stay home and be fully present as long as God would allow me to financially do so. Praise be to him that Jeff has a job that allows me to live out this dream. I am doing what I’ve always wanted to do!

I’ve spent the past two days soul-searching for the reason for my pre-40 disappointment, and I’ve figured it out. My whole life, I’ve struggled with falling victim to the comparison trap. I look at other women around my age, and I allow their achievements to be my litmus test for success. I’m a failure and my life is less than fulfilling because I’m not flourishing at motherhood, homemaking, but also in a career. I’m not pulling in an income using a God-given skill set to enrich my life. I’ve settled for just motherhood. For whatever reason, I have allowed outward influences to diminish the importance of my life’s work. This is very wrong, and I'm grateful to God for this awakening as I start this new life decade.

For many years now, I’ve prayed for wisdom in how I approach life. God has shown me that to be successful, I must pare down my priorities. I have always had ADHD tendencies, and when I take on too much, everything suffers. God knows that succeeding in my home life is a top priority for me, so it’s no wonder that I’ve resisted ambitions to pursue a career outside of the home. There is one truth I’m taking into my future: my girls are 10 and 12, and let’s face it, the remaining years with them under this roof are racing by. I already feel like I have so many things I want to do with them and teach them. Preparing them to leave home and enter the world as strong, indepentent and godly women takes priority. I will struggle more if I take on too much and lose sight of this priority.

There are many women out there who can do more. They are amazing moms, wives and career women. Maybe someday, after my girls have moved on from this house, I can set my sights on career opportunities then, but for now, I now know that my 40s will be a continuation of the groundwork laid in my 30s. This is wisdom, and it’s my gift to myself as I move forward. Even if it takes a daily reminder, I’m going to refrain from comparing my life to others. I am me. I am Gracie, and I wholehearted and exclusively choose motherhood and homemaking for the next several years. This is no failure, but a successful path laid out by God himself. He gave me Jeff, Lillie and Evy, and then he gave me the means to be a full-time presence in their lives. It’s an honor and a gift, and I am profoundly blessed!

To all the mothers out there, I offer this encouragement for you too: you are an amazing mom! Don’t look to the mom on your left or right to determine your worth. Your love and devotion to your family is a priceless legacy. We need to stop believing the lie that who we are isn’t enough. I AM ENOUGH, and so are you!

I got a twofer when I married him, because Jeff is a great dad too! He has this big-kid mentality that my girls love! From a very early age, he was their human jungle gym, and his favorite thing is still making the girls laugh. More than this, he is die-hard committed to the girls and me, and I have zero doubt in my mind just how much he is devoted to his role as husband and father.

Love you, Hubs!

Picture this scenario: an adorable little girl starts her day playing with her kitchen, making breakfast for her sister and me. She cuts the pretend oranges and tomatoes, and displays them neatly next to the fried egg and cookie. She’s so proud of her meal and she can’t wait to serve it to me and Sister. After taking several "bites" of my food, I excuse myself to the kitchen to finish up with the real food cooking on the stove. While I’m away, my sweet girlies lose interest and decide they want to read books.

The book shelf in their play area contains all of the girls’ favorites, and they thumb through many of them daily. So, naturally when I come back into the living room, both girls are sitting on the floor “reading.” Lillie loves Dora, so she reads one about the grumpy old troll, who loves under the bridge. It reminds her that Boots and Dora are still sitting on her bed from last night, so she abandons her book to go play with them. Meanwhile, Toddler Evy with a 5-minute attention span has moved onto her baby dolls. About that time, I hear the washer stop, so I go put the clothes into the dryer.

The day continues on like this until dinner time, and Daddy is almost home. This is the girls’ favorite part of the day, because he is the human jungle gym. After the girls get in some solid play time, it’s finally time for dinner, and we sit down as a family. The kitchen still needs to be cleaned from dinner, and the girls need to get ready for bed. It’s been a good day, but I’m warn out. Jeff gets the girls ready for bed while I clean the kitchen. As I’m wrapping up and heading to the back of the house to check on the girls, I see it…the day’s worth of toys. Everywhere.

The best thing to do in that moment is to have the girls come out and help clean up, since the mess belongs to them, but honestly, I can get it done so much faster on my own. I forego the good parenting moment in favor of a more speedy bedtime and peace and quiet.

This scenario has evolved as the girls have gotten older. Instead of toys, it’s wet towels, dirty clothes, school junk, primping supplies and dirty dishes. As a mom of two tween-aged girls, I wish I could go back in time and not allow them to walk away from their messes. From the early days, when they were old enough to toddle around and play with toys, I should have been teaching them through positive reinforcement that you only walk away after everything is back in its place. Here is what I wish I would have done:

1. If I’m actively playing with the girls, and they want to move onto something else, I’d cheerfully insist and assist in putting away their current toys. I’d praise them enthusiastically for taking such good care of their toys.
2. If I’m not in the room when they are playing, and they move onto something else, I would establish a clean-up time before each meal, snack time and bed time, so that there are several opportunities for picking up throughout the day.
3. I would seek out opportunities to offer up high praise for when they pick-up without being prompted to do so. I’m not good with keeping up with charts, but if I were, I’d have one that tracks the times they pick up without being prompted, and a reward is given when they reach a certain number.
4. I would start when Lillie was still a toddler of creating a culture of teamwork within our household. I would continually remind the girls that our home is special, and we all need to work to keep it looking nice. We must all work together to take care of every part of it, not just our own belongings.
5. I would reinforce basic principles of picking up after routine activities like changing clothes, taking a bath, brushing teeth and hair. I would show the girls where each item has a home and praise them when they keep it there.
6. Most importantly, I would be conscientious about not bailing them out of their personal responsibilities when it comes to making messes. Yes, I can tidy up way faster and more effectively, but they suffer from lack of personal responsibility when I step in and do it for them.

It's important to try and remain upbeat and postitive throughout the whole process. Picking up is a chore, but it's so much easier to get little ones to do it when we parents remain cheerful about it. I wish I would have done a better job of remaining encouraging and praising them openly for the little things. Over the years, this positive reinforcement will be what sticks with your kids. They will also learn to appreciate how good a tidy space feels. As they mature, they will eventually make the connection that putting things away right away means less picking up later on. I'm sure my mother taught this to me when I was little, but it didn't stick. As an adult, I still have a bad habit of setting things down and waiting until later. If we as parents fight this good fight, I have to believe it will take root and produce a lifetime good habit.

Now that my girls are 10 and 12, I’m trying to give them more independence. They make their own breakfast and lunches most days, which means messes in the kitchen. Personal hobbies and interests have replaced toys, but those hobbies come with messes: used cotton balls stained with nail polish, slime, and painting supplies are a constant struggle to get put away the first time. I like to think that if I had done my job back when they were little, I wouldn’t have to say on a daily basis, “hey Evy, come put your lunch stuff away,” or “Lillie, please don’t leave dirty dishes in your room.” For the most part, my girls have a good attitude about it, but picking up after themselves is definitely not a well-formed habit. It takes constant diligence on mine and Jeff’s part to remind them to clean up after themselves.

Messes and clutter are inevitable, but it’s way easier to teach kids when they’re young and impressionable. Please don’t make the mistakes I made. Teach your young ones, and praise them often for the simplest of efforts made. Empower them through encouragement to be proud of their accomplishments. It will pay off in droves when they are older!

Dear neighbor,

Although we have a friendly rapport, I need to say I’m sorry! I’ve seen you on countless occasions, and when I do, we offer friendly smiles, exchange pleasantries, and maybe even strike up meaningful conversation. But there is an ignorant divide that continues to separate us, and for that, I offer up my deepest apology.

With our nation in shambles from racial injustice, it’s time for me to sit and listen. In what ways has racial discrimination effected you personally? What injustices have been done to your family and friends? I want to understand where you’re coming from and build better communication between us. I’ve avoided the conversation for far too long in fear of saying the wrong thing or causing discomfort. I see now that avoiding talking about this only divides us further, and it’s time to unite.

As a follower of Jesus, I wholehearted believe that every single person is created equally in the image of God. It’s human arrogance and greed that brought on oppression, not God! He stands for justice and love, and I’m praying that he will use horrifying time to demolish the inequalities that exist simply because of color. I pray God will pave the way for peace and open conversation between all races, so that we can better understand each other.

I'm commanded by Jesus to love my neighbor, and I’m sorry for avoiding needed conversations with you. Let’s chat openly and honestly with mutual love and respect for our differences, then let’s celebrate the ways we are alike!

Warmest Regards,

Gracie

I remember on a trip to Disney World when the girls were little, and we were standing in a sea of people trying to watch a stage show in front of the castle. It was hard enough for J and me to see, and for the girls it was basically impossible. They could get a glimpse of a character up on an elevated podium from time to time, but otherwise they were only able to hear the music. This is a common annoyance at Disney for kiddos (and shorties like me.)

At times I feel like my girls at Disney, unable to enjoy life around me, because my view is blocked by a wall of my own stress. In these moments, it’s vital for me to physically stop, sit, and dwell in the land of positive. Even if I only take 60 seconds to do it, I am amazed by how much better I feel from the one minute of therapy I received. I’m able to peek over the wall of bad and see good that God has in store for my day.

It became evident a while back that I needed a constant tangible source of gratitude for my daily stress, so I created a new goal for myself: to start a gratitude journal as a compass that points to positive. It’s a list of people, items, experiences, memories and truths that make me stop and praise God. We’re promised in scripture that we have the right as God’s children to give him our burdens and not wear them like heavy luggage on our shoulders. He takes the burdens, and we get to carry our joy and thanksgiving instead. A pretty great trade, if you ask me!

I chose for this list to live in the Notes app on my smartphone, so that I can constantly add to it and keep with me wherever I go. I can access it on my computer or phone, I can print it off, and I can take a screenshot of it and use it as wallpaper. I did this system for about a month, but when the quarantine started, I switched to a pen and paper journal system to see which one I prefer. I love the process of writing in my journal, but housing it on my smartphone is more convenient to access. I plan on doing both and copying my paper entries into the note saved on my phone. I’m not sure how long my scattered-brain will allow me to keep up with both, and more than likely the electronic list will win out.

After a few months of practice, I highly recommend it to anyone! Create your own list in whichever medium you is most beneficial to you. The point is simply to have a list and spend time dwelling on it daily. If I only have one minute to spare, then I’ll focus on just a few items on the list. I wish I could say that I have made it a rock-solid routine, but my rabbit-chasing brain sometimes prevails. Most days though, I find myself taking nuggets of time to dwell on the good stuff, and my outlook is steadily improving.

In no way do I believe that keeping a gratitude list will eliminate stress in my life. Until the Father grants me life after this broken one, I will feel stress of some kind everyday.

When my girls experienced frustration from their obstructed view at Disney shows, there was a remedy: J and I would lift them up high so they could see, and smiles lit up their faces. They could see past the sea of bodies to the joy awaiting them.

Gratitude elevates!

Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:6-7

Since it was my mission to do Disney World on the cheap, I booked a deal trough Living Social. You know the saying “if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is,” well, I learned this the hard way. The deal included 3 nights in deluxe off-site accommodations, with 2 free park tickets to any Disney park of our choice. All we had to do to get the tickets was sit through a timeshare presentation. Yep, we did that, and we barely survived to tell about it.

We arrived in Orlando the day before, eager to check out our primo resort with top notch amenities. We spent much of our 10 hour drive talking up the beautiful grounds, our comfy room and the great pool to our young girls. When we arrived, J and I looked at each other, wondering if we were at the wrong resort. It was a total dump! It smelled bad, the grounds were unkempt, and there was zero magic to this place. With much frustration from the front desk manager’s chilly reception, it was time to check out our room. I walked in, saw the rips in the upholstery, the dingy bedspreads, and the stained bath tub, and I broke down crying. It was awful, and we were stuck here for 3 nights!

At the time, saving money was my top priority for this trip. After walking into this rat trap, I wanted out immediately, and I did not care about any kind of cancellation penalty. Unfortunately it was 7:00, the girls were hungry, and we had an early start to the next day. So, after a regroup chat over CiCi’s pizza, we were ready to take action. We decided to throw our tight budget out the window (well, at least a little) and call Disney to see if they had any availability for the next 2 nights.

Have you ever talked to an angel? I have. It was the cast member from Disney that night on the phone. I had not booked anything through Disney except a splurge dinner at Cinderella’s Royal Table for L’s birthday meal. Even that was booked online, so we truly had no idea what Disney customer service was like. This angelic woman was the nicest, most helpful customer service person I had spoken with up to this point. She patiently listened to my desperate cries to get out of the dump we were in, and then she proceeded to offer up magical words of reassurance that she could come to our rescue. After inquiring about our meager budget, she proceeded to find us the perfect sanctuary from our dreadful reality.

Disney’s Art of Animation Resort had just opened up several months before, and since we were traveling in the middle of January, it was the off-season. We scored a room in The Little Mermaid section of the resort for a steal, only $99 per night. The entire conversation, even being placed on hold and listening to Disney tunes was a pleasurable experience. The Disney magic captured this stressed out mom of two. All we had to do was make it through one terrible night sleep and one horrifying sales pitch from a sleazy timeshare salesman.

We did it! We survived the timeshare presentation, the chat with the first salesperson, and we even survived the staredown with the closer too. It took iron-clad determination to not give into the pseudo-intimidating sales tactics being thrown at us, but we managed to get out of there an hour later with our free tickets. We were finally on our way to the magic.

Driving under the Disney World sign is a feeling like no other. It’s the gateway to the magic, and immediately my family was filled with immense excitement. It’s only a short distance to the entrance to our hotel, so the cheering only became louder as we approached the resort. To say my girls were in total awe is an understatement. They were 5 and almost 3, and Ariel was their hero. To see a 30 foot Ariel greet them as we pulled in only brought on more cheering and squealing from my two girlies.

From there, we checked in, marveled at the lobby, then proceeded to our section of the resort. We took it all in: the massive Nemo pool, the regal King Triton and other Little Mermaid statues, the kid play area, then finally our room. Coming from a true dump of a resort the previous night, I think anything would have been an improvement, but Disney’s resort grounds are immaculately clean and exquisitely decorated. The details are endless, and the room was amazing. Again, the squeals from two excited girls echoed through the small room. From this moment on, we were hooked!

We rode countless rides, ate fun snacks, and watched the most amazing parades. I didn’t expect it, but it became the girls’ mission to meet every possible character celebrity they could find. They were living in pure magic, and J and I relished in every giggle, moment of awe, and wide eye expression they had. For us parents, Disney was all about watching our girls experience the magic. As we exited the park for the last time on that second day, L turned to her younger sister and confidently proclaimed, “when you turn 5, we get to come back again!”

Spoiler alert: We did!

Since that pivotal moment, I view vacations very differently. They aren't frivolous, they are priceless. Vacations, especially Disney ones are expensive. Our entire Disney vacation was only two days in the Magic Kingdom, but that was all it took to hook my family. There will always be dozens of other ways to spend your hard earned money rather than a fun family vacation. But I cringe at the thought of talking J out of fulfilling his promise to his 5 year old daughter just to save a couple grand. There is an old church hymn whose lyrics are “precious memories, how they linger, how they ever flood my soul.” When I think back on this vacation and the ones to follow, they are some of my most precious memories with my husband and girls. Even my parents, adult sisters and families had the opportunity to get in on the magic a while back.

I will continue to write about my family vacations, show pictures and share my favorite (stolen) tips. Meanwhile, are you a Disney-junky too? What is one of your favorite vacation memories?

I had been quite time conscious, and I was trying to stay organized so that E would have plenty of time to do my makeup. The timing was working out well, and I only had about 15 more minutes of work before J took the reins to finish up dinner. I had just gone out to cut herbs from the garden, and there was a pretty strong storm moving in. With herbs in hand, I beat the rain with seconds to spare. This is where all of my best-laid plans fell apart.

J was sitting at the bar, keeping my company, while I quickly chopped parsley. Unfortunately, my left index finger got in the way, and I chopped right through the corner of my nail into the skin below.

Now, for most people, this would be alarming, but they would very quickly stop and simply clean the wound. I am not most people. I am a total wimp when it comes to flesh wounds, especially mine. I get light-headed, sweaty and nauseous. I knew this cut was bad and there would be blood. I’m not a vocally hysterical person,  but instead I get this steely, super quiet vibe when I’m panicking. So, very calmly I say, “J, I need you to get me wet wash cloth,” all the while never even looking at my finger wound but getting it under a cold water faucet. The only problem is most the wash cloths were currently in the washing machine, and my now frantic hubby is running around tying to find a suitable rag for my bleeding finger. Finally, we had a rag, and he simply needed to get my finger wrapped to avoid me seeing blood.

Remember the part, when I said there was a storm brewing? Yeah, the power went out, just as Jeff was finding a rag. As he’s scrounging around, E comes into the kitchen to see what all the comotion is about. I’m standing at the sink, staring at E in the dark, waiting on J to bring me a rag, and my peripheral vision is failing. I’m queasy and light-headed, afraid I’ll need stitches. Soon, J appears with a rag and wets it. I don’t remember the next few minutes, because apparently I passed out. J, trying to keep me from hitting the floor, asks E to wrap my finger as they drag me to a chair. Halfway there, I wake up for a brief moment, then pass out again. It’s literally a 13-step journey from the sink to the chair.

Throughout all of this, I could sense commotion and hear muddled voices. This is the first time in my life I’ve passed out, and it was strange to think it happened in just a few short moments. When I came to, I was sitting in the chair with my finger wrapped in a rag. Now, most well-stocked homes have a first-aid kit for emergencies that’s stocked with bandaging and wound ointment. Yeah, not us. My girls are 12 and 10, and they still manage to keep us cleaned out of all suitable bandages. Gauze was the right bandage for this wound, and we had one tiny piece of gauze that L was able to track down to cover my finger. Fortunately the bleeding has stopped, so a trip to the ER was avoided.

While all this is going on, dinner prep is in full-swing. I was in no shape to finish, and I was still a good 15-minutes shy of where I needed to be, so from the couch, I was trying to direct J with specific cooking instructions. Just as he was getting started, he happened to reach down to scratch his leg and found a black bump, a little black insect bump that had burrowed into his leg from the day before. He had to stop and run off to pull a tick out of his leg. Thank goodness L was standing there, and I was able to guide her through potato prep.

Finally, J came back, tick free, and was ready dive in. I was feeling up to getting ready, but there was little to no time for E to do my make-up. I put on a dress, and took out my ponytail, hoping my hair would have some dramatic volume. E did a 10-minute job on my face, and it was time for dinner.

Somehow, we managed to find our way to the dining room table, with hot food to eat, the power restored, my finger fully bandaged, and us girls looking like a million bucks. It was a hilarious miracle. Although it was a totally unexpected twist of events, we all managed to get a big laugh out of it.

There’s this meal I love to fix for my family and friends. It’s the kind of meal that’s simple, but doesn’t taste like it: roast chicken with lemon-tarragon sauce. It’s looks beautiful and tastes amazing. Tonight was definitely the night for this meal. It’s tangy, buttery, and juicy, with a slight caramel flavor from the licorice-y tarragon. It’s perfect, and my family can’t get enough of it. From times past, I knew this bird could be a happy drug, and I served it with the intent of bringing on some happy times for my cranky crew.

I promised E that we could have a formal dinner tonight to go along with our delicious meal. I worked hard on my timing to be able to have dinner mostly done so J could do the final steps. E has a love and a knack for cosmetics, so she was going help me get ready. We girls put on our fancy dresses, as J carved up our pretty bird, and covered it in a buttery, lemon sauce. I usually try to get two nights out of a bird, but not this time. We deserved total indulgence! We put the star of our meal in the middle of the table, and we all took turns dragging a piece of chicken through the sauce. The girls took the drumsticks, J and I took the thighs, then piece by piece, we devoured the breast meat. All the while, mopping up the saucy bliss.

For sides, I always have a simple green salad of some sort to balance the richness of the chicken. This evening it was greens from a neighbor’s garden, dressed with a simple, 5-minute vinaigrette. The other side dish, though, is always in perfect harmony with the bird: braised red potatoes with lemon and chives. They are crispy brown, salty, and garlicky on the outside, and creamy on the inside. These babies make their way onto my dinner table often because they look so impressive, but they are truly the easiest potato recipe!

As we indulged, I could see shoulders lower and smiles rise. Jokes were cracked, and I started to hear giggles peppered into all the mmmm’s. I had been praying for God to give us a good evening to kick off our week. He gave me a roast chicken as the remedy.

Note: I am a massive fan of America's Test Kitchen! I have 9 of their cookbooks, and I am a member of ATK’s site and its sister brands. Most of my favorite kitchen gadgets and appliances I purchased upon their recommendation. I will be linking recipes to their site often. If you are an avid cook, or want simplified recipes that are truly amazing, I highly recommend signing up for a trial membership!