One Braid. One Pigtail. One Happy Girl.

When I asked Sarah yesterday whether she wanted a pony tail, braids, or pig tails for school I wasn’t expecting to have a moment that would alter my parenting.  With a gleam in her big brown eyes, my daughter excited replied: “One pigtail.  One braid.”

pigtail braid final

Today I am being featured on Mommy Blog Expert.  I’m super stoked about this post and hope you enjoy it.  Click here to read the full post.

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Ways to Grieve and Honor a Lost Child

“Grief is the price we pay for loving someone—and that the price is worth it.” -Steven Eastmond

Four years ago, I underwent a gut wrenching event that changed me and my marriage.  We lost a child.  Miscarriage is not uncommon but that knowledge really doesn’t give any comfort to those who have experienced one.  A few months back I wrote about my own experience with miscarriage.  It was cathartic and healing.

Today I am sharing ways to remember and grieve the loss of a child, as gleaned from personal experiences, interviews and more.  The full post is being featured on

Stressed young woman sitting in bathtub

Some ways to grieve and remember the loss of a child as discussed in the article are:

  1. Join a support group
  2. Hold a ceremony
  3. Keep a journal
  4. Share with others
  5. Serve
  6. Pray
  7. Momentos….and more

Be sure to head over to and read my contributor post this month!  And please share with someone who may be in need.

3 Is The New 6

“Now, I see we didn’t do x-rays last time?  Remind me why that is again?” a short, latino hygienist asks thru her round spectacles.

I quickly reply “Because I was pregnant” while bracing myself for a series of questions I know are to come.  Questions that I am annoyingly asked on the regular.  By complete strangers, I may add.  The same questions that invoke feelings of frustration, ironic humor and a tint of “none of your damn business”…I mean… a sense of privy.

“Oh, really?  How many kids do you have? ”

And so it begins.

I politely answer, “Three.”

“Oh, wow.  How old?”

Yup, saw that one coming.

“Four, two, and four months.”  

And what will it be next?  Will it be “So this is your last, right?”  “Are you done?” “Are you going to have another one?” or is the lucky winner going to be plain yet loud “I don’t know how you have more than one;  and all so little.”

“Are you going to have another one?”  Winner…winner…chicken dinner.

And the answer….I don’t know. Having three kids now a days is hard!

I am the last of six.  I’m the oops baby.  The “I’m pregnant?  I thought I was going through menopause baby?”  I’m the envied sibling, because by the time I came mom and dad had money to spend.  My husband has three other siblings.  And to top it off, I’m Mormon.  We’re programmed to have like eight kids, right?!  So why is it that I am so unwilling to think about having more kids right now?

Could it be the fact that I just had a kid?  Possibly.

Could it be that my baby is the easiest of my three kids?  Probably.  No, really.  The other two are kicking my butt.  I mean, how funny is that the one child who depends solely on me to meet his every need is the easiest?  That’s irony for you.

Or is it that in today’s world 3 is the new 6?

Forget, the exorbitant cost of vacationing with a large family or simply going out to eat. Let’s briefly reflect on the required things, like feeding all 6 mouths.  I’ve gone grocery shopping with three kids and by the end look like I just crossed the plains by handcart; that or am secretly plotting my own kidnapping so I can have a five minute break without kids.


I don’t know how women like my mother had six kids.  Six unique, different personalities interacting on a daily basis without the blessings of iPhones, tablets and Disney Jr.  Did they ever leave the house?  How did they go out to eat?  Or grocery shop for that matter?  Better yet, how did they keep madness from ensuing, stopping sibling tussles from turning into bitter rivalries and blood baths equivalent to the Hatfields and McCoys, the Jets vs Sharks, Bloods vs Crips (What? I’m from California.  Can I not make mention of that?)  Ok..ok.. how about Lindsey Lohan vs sobriety?  You get the point.

To those men and woman who choose to have large families, I salute you.  And to those who in this day and age are going for a handful or more, I don’t know how you do it but BRAVO.  I swear Heavenly Father is sending down some of his most stubborn strongest spirits to endure such a world.

My daughter has a mind of her own.  Good luck telling her to do or think something she doesn’t want.  You almost never win.  She is that set in her ways.  This is why my husband and I are so determined to raise our children not just in the church, but ridiculously active followers of Christ.  I’m convinced that Sarah is just like her father.  The only thing that is going to change her mind is the Holy Ghost.  I know that if she gains a testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ, she will not falter.  And if you try to get her to think anything contrary….well, good luck to you.  It ain’t happening.


My daughter isn’t a unicorn.  Rather, I am finding many other parents who share similar battle stories.  We wear our scars (i.e. spit-up riddled clothing, unkept messy hair, and memories of that horrible grocery trip) as badges of honor.  We are all in the same fox hole, afraid to lift our heads up for fear of it being blown off.  And like me, they too, are baffled by these little mustangs coming down to earth.  Were children always like this or is it truly a “gift” they have inherited in the pre-existence to survive the negative ideas and stereotypes of today’s world?

I tend to lean to the former.

“Are you pregnant?”  The technician asks as she places a ridiculously heavy lead vest on me while prepping to take x-rays.

My response: “I better not be.”

After all 3 is the new 6.







Hang In There Momma

 12794479_1127330407297988_2695354613221122817_nPhoto by Jessica Gaines of Chasing Sammi Photography


To that momma struggling to hold back the tears and overwhelming feelings of grief and failure with breastfeeding, I love you.  Go ahead and cry.


 To that momma who is weighing the pros and cons of switching to formula, you are not alone.


To the momma who’s kid just won’t latch right, carry on.


To all of you, I promise it gets better.


thumb_thumb_DSC00725_1024_1024My Beautiful Daughter


I chose to breastfeed.  Unfortunately, it didn’t come so naturally and easy.  After I had my daughter, I quickly came to understand why someone may give up breastfeeding.


Breastfeeding is hard.


I went to a dark place after the birth of my daughter.  I was a postpartum mess as I dealt with strong feelings of grief, dismay and failure.


I couldn’t feed my daughter.  I tried and tried, then tried some more with little success.  My breasts were manhandled by way too many people as they each attempted to show me the right way to feed my midget; like they were a bag of frosting being shoved into a closed lipped, diabetic’s mouth. And I still looked 4 months pregnant.


I had very few feeding sessions that went well.  It was 45-90 minutes of confusion, frustration and utter despair.  I would try my best but my helpless little girl would tighten up and screech out in what I later came to realize was gas pain.  I felt like a horrible mom.  Why can’t I feed my own child?  What is wrong with me?  She can do it.  Why not me?


Photo by Jessica Gaines of Chasing Sammi Photography


It got to the point where my husband would get his worried look on his face and take Sarah away from me for a little.  “I’m gonna take her for a little.  Why don’t you take a bath?”  I’m still not sure if it was out of pity, fear or protection; either way I needed it.  With that came relief and then further guilt.  This new mom was getting her butt kicked. I even missed attending my sister’s wedding because I was such hot mess.


Eventually, I learned that Sarah had latch issues due to a mild tied tongue.  That combined with a fast and heavy let down gave little miss a great deal of gas and stomach pain.  I, being a new mom, didn’t know or recognize the signs of gas.  All I knew was that she couldn’t or wouldn’t eat. It wasn’t until my sister came to visit that she immediately noticed Sarah pulling her legs up- a classic sign of gas.  Where was she weeks before?  My poor little girl had suffered so much.  


My sister taught me what to look for and different ways to get the gas out. There is this one move she called that soda pop, where you lay your baby upside down, their back against your chest while you firmly massage his/her belly with you fingers, then quickly bring them right side up and push their belly against your shoulder and pat out a burp; or spit up in my case.  I also learned the miraculous power of gripe water.



I am proud to say I didn’t give up. I joined a breastfeeding class a week or two after Sarah was born and faithfully attending for a year.  The lactation consultant, Tracy Grady was my saving grace! She was so patient and supportive as were the other ladies in the group who would see me break down and over encouraging words and personal stories.  I joined mommy groups.  I bought lanolin.  I read.  I prayed.  I’m pretty sure I even asked my husband to give me a priesthood blessing.


With time, Sarah’s tied tongue stretched out enough and her latch got better. I learned to recognize signs of distress and a variety of ways to treat gas pains.  My favorite is the “I Love U” belly massage. Or is it the “Karate Kid belly massage?” You know… wax on wax off.  Either way, after three months of what seemed like endless tears, pain and sadness (on both our parts), depression and feelings of inadequacy, Sarah and I began to turn a corner.


I watched what I ate to avoid gassy foods. I endured bites, cracked and bleeding nipples, soreness, milk blebs (blisters on your nipples) ***sorry male readers for repeatedly writing nipples*** Luckily, I never got mastitis.  I went through a postpartum depression that my husband and I were not prepared for.  Poor guy.  I broke down in tears more times that I can count. But in the end, I endured and am damn proud of that fact.




I successfully breastfed my daughter for 16 months.  I fought a valiant fight and won.  But my accomplishment is not and should not be the standard.  Nor should it make someone feel bad about only breastfeeding  3 months or not at all.  To each their own.


What I can say is that I now completely understand why people throw in the towel or chose from the start to not breastfeed.  I almost gave up many times.  If I didn’t have my breastfeeding support group’s weekly meetings and their Facebook page (which I still frequent), supportive family, friends, and my ridiculously  inherit stubborn nature, I would have been right there with you and that would have been ok.


 12803002_1127330550631307_5888231372607010864_n Special Thanks to K. Crawford


Each of us must decide what is best for our kiddo and ourselves. For me it was breastfeeding.  In the beginning it was an emotional rollercoaster but so worth it.  In those quiet moments, where my daughter would peacefully drink as she looked up me with these beautiful brown eyes, I knew it was worth it.   When she would place her soft, small hand on my breast while receiving nourishment, I knew it was more than just food, but love and comfort as well.  All the tears were worth it.  All the pain, the sorrow, the heartache.  I did what I felt was right for my daughter and believe that both she and I were blessed for it.


I have since breast two other children.  Both sons breastfed from the start without a hitch. One still is.  And like Sarah, they too have in their own way shared their gratitude and love while breastfeeding.  Those moments when they briefly stop eating and smile (not just with their lips but eyes as well) remind me it is worth it and coincidentally encourage me to continue with David.  Someday my body will be mine again, but for now I’m perfectly content sharing it with my son.


For those mommas who are set to breastfeed and are getting their butts kicked, please know that I am with you.   I support you and believe that you can do it.

So You Want To Review And Then Some

Ok, so a bunch of you have asked me about the reviews I’ve been doing and how to join so this post is for you.

I love doing it!  It’s perfect for someone like myself.  I love shopping but can’t do much of it right now.  I love getting deals, love writing, am quite opinionated and enjoy being the center of attention.

Currently, I write reviews for:

Tomoson is a favorite of mine.  You apply for products to review and if selected post reviews on various social media sites.

AMZ Review Trader is similar to Tomoson.  You apply for products to review and if selected post reviews on various social media sites.

EliteDealClub is addicting.  You get a daily email at 6 am for sales that day. Sales go live at 7 am, 11 am and 5 pm pacific standard time. These items are heavily discounted or free in exchange for a review; but are limited in number so you have to act fast. Here’s an invite code if you want to join.

iLoveToReview sends you emails about products you can get for free ain exchange for an honest review.

Secret Deals Club also sends emails about products heavily discounted or free in exchange for a review.

My goal is in a year’s time to be reviewing (and keeping) cool items like cameras and making money off my blog that has hopefully more than the 5 followers I currently have.  In order to do so I need to build up my influence on different social media sites.

Do me a favor and follow will ya?  It’s on the sidebar on the right. You can also find me on Twitter, Instagram, YouTube, Pinterest and Facebook.

This whole blogging thing is new to me.  But hey, I’m learning and growing and I quite enjoy it.  That’s why I joined Sverve a site that encourages you to “Share your blog posts.  Endorse others.  Learn from each other.  Grow your network.”

I have a friend from Indiana who makes money from her blog, What’s Up Fagans.  It’s her way to contribute financially and still be a SHM. Within 3 years she grew her blog into a money making tool, has spoken at public events and has been published on Amazon.

Katelyn suggested that I look into joining the Blogger2Businnes Facebook group.  She said it’s a pretty good one and helpful for new bloggers. She also suggested applying to join the Kid Blogger Network.  They also have a great facebook group.

Speaking of making money, I’ve found a few sites that join bloggers with advertisers.

Sponsored reviews

Advertise on blogs Basically, advertisers buy blog reviews from popular blogs, hobby bloggers and maybe one of mine someday.  I just activated mine so we’ll see how it goes.  I’m hopeful.  It will be pretty awesome if I can make a little dough for doing something I think is fun.

Blogsvertise is another site I joined recently which also promises to help you make money blogging. You sign up to blog for various advertisers or can make money by displaying ads and banners on your blog. It connects advertisers and bloggers.  “For example, an advertiser who sells cleaning supplies contacts us and informs us as to what type of blog they would be interested in advertising on.”

iConnect promises to help bloggers monetize their blog with sponsorships, sponsored posts, or ambassadorships.  Not sure if this is true yet but can’t hurt to try.

Like I said, I’m new to all this but like what I’ve learned so far. Hope you do too.


Dear Future Daughter of Mine

DSC_2319   To my dearest daughter.  Someday you will be able to read this and I pray that when you do you will know how deeply loved you are.  I love and cherish your feisty demeanor, your endearing smile, your infections laugh and your uncanning ability to make friends wherever you go.  I love your fearless nature and your ability to see and replicate.  Your first time down a fireman’s pole at the playground was after watching another older child do it.  Really, you taught yourself to swim.  The other day you saw a kiddo swinging upside down and thought to yourself that looks fun, I think I’ll do that too.  And you did.


I know that we often clash and engage in many ongoing battles over trivial matters like two bucks locking antlers in a futile attempt to draw the attention of a female doe.  As my voice becomes more stern, your little body stands tall, eyes firm, ready for battle.  At that moment, emotions are raging, both of us wanting to win and have the last say.  I tell others that you are just like your daddy and that’s why we butt heads; when in reality you are me- strong, independent, with a false sense that you are never wrong.  And for that, I love you, though I may not always show it.

12620781_10153776515921043_281174930_oI want to let you know that I’m sorry for those days I lost my temper, for those many times I demanded too much of you, my four year old.  How can I expect you to ignore all the siren toys in your room, calling you to play instead of cleaning your room all by yourself.  I’m sorry for the times I put my wants and needs before yours.  For those times, you asked me to play and I didn’t.  You are my ray of light.  I should bask in your warmth and glow so much more.

12633048_10153776510211043_44175359_oSarah, you are a wonderful girl.  Your father and I are so blessed to be your parents.  You do not realize it yet, but your little brother idolizes you.  Please keep that in mind as you grow older and become a teenager.  No crazy stuff please! Whatever you do Evan will follow suit.  And baby David… he gets the biggest toothless, gummy grin when you are near.  I love seeing you care for him, sing to him, play with him and protect him.  You are going to make the most amazing mother.  I can say this with the upmost confidence.

I am not a perfect mother.  There is so much more I need to learn as well as change.  I apologize now for my past mistakes and mistreatments as well as further misgivings.   I thank you in advance for your forgiveness.  “It’s alright mommy.  I give [forgive] you. I love you.”  Oh what joy those phrases bring to me.  You are the light of my life and I promise that I will be the best mommy I can be.  And when I falter, that means mess up, please love me, forgive me and hold my hand.  Together, with daddy and brothers, we will navigate this thing called life.  I love you bug.12636868_10153776509641043_1530683575_o

Can Those Dishes Really Wait?

DSC_0423I read a quote tonight by Lawrence Cohen of Playful Parenting that struck a cord.  It read “Children don’t say ‘I had a hard day can we talk?’  They say ‘Will you play with me?’ ”  I can’t count the number of times my four year old inquires this same thing of me.  “Mommy, will you play with me?”  “Mommy can we play a game?”  “Mommy, now can we play?”

Sarah, in particular, will look at me with her beautiful, all encompassing brown eyes.  A look that only a 3 week puppy can replicate.  How cold-hearted I must be to dismiss the pleadings of my princess.  And yet, too often my response is, “Not right now sweetie.” “Mommy’s doing work.”  “I can’t.”  “I need to feed brother, or clean or cook dinner” and any number of excuses.  The most used response: “Yes sweetie, after I [do XVY]” but then I don’t.

“Children don’t say ‘I had a hard day can we talk?’  They say ‘Will you play with me?’ ”  The words sting.  It won’t be long before lil’ miss doesn’t want to play with me anymore.  Is what I’m doing really that important?  More than half the time I would say no, it isn’t that important and yet I don’t stop to heed the invitations of my son or daughter.

Now before you go and say oh no not another “the dishes can wait…savor the moment” article, keep reading and please resist the urge to throat-punch me.

There is a time and place.  Kids need to learn that we are there for them and they are of upmost importance.  At the same time, they need to learn that the world does not revolve around them and mommy and daddy have responsibilities to be met.  It’s a fine line to walk that I am still trying to navigate.  If I were a tight rope walker I’d be dead by now.

What I feel (and again take this with a grain of salt) is that we take the DSC_0408time to play, even if all we can devote is 5 minutes away from the task at hand.  Of course you can always spend more time.  And when we do play with them and notice the disaster that is their bedroom, fight the temptation to stop and clean things up.  I know.  I know.  Easier said than done.  Really I’m totally guilty of this.  I’ll go upstairs with the intention to play, the next thing I know I am cleaning and reorganizing the play room, fixing the beds, putting away clothes, then yelling at my daughter for hiding the laundry I asked her to put away the day before.  It’s not easy but we need to give our littles our undecided attention.  If not, how can we expect them to ignore the waves crashing around them and focus in the future.  Not too mention, one-on-one interaction, conversations and eye contact develop a feeling of self worth and identity.  I read it somewhere on a blog before so it must be true.  *Wink

If in that moment you are unable to stop, don’t beat yourself up over it later at night when you lay in bed and replay all the parenting fails you made that day.  Come on, you know you do it too.  Instead, explain to Adam or Lindsay what you are doing (in terms they understand) and that you love them and want to play but must first finish the task at hand because XYZ.  Instead of feeling bad for putting them on the back burner, smile because you are teaching them responsibility and follow through.

If I may share one last thing, it is that maybe those moments of play are more than simple bonding between parent and child.  Could it be that they are life’s way of teaching us, the adult?  Children are pure, they haven’t been corrupted by the world.  Not many years ago they themselves were in heaven.  During that time of play, try to identify what you can learn from them.  What beautiful gem can you glean from them?  I know that’s what I’m going to be working on this week.

Good luck to you.

Tender Mercies in Miscarriage

Tomorrow is the anniversary of the passing of my second child.  Thank you Facebook for reminding me of mine with that latest “memories” feature.  I’ve been thinking a lot about this, as I do occasionally; particularly around holiday season.  This post is an open and honest expression of the pain, sorrow and beauty that comes with the loss of a child.  I apologize in advance for any tears shed.  I shared quite a few in writing this. Ok, here we go.

This is me on my 29th birthday.

It was a great day.  My husband took the day off, we got to hear the baby’s heartbeat, go get free food at Joe’s Farm Grill and enjoyed family time.  It was a good day.  Everything seemed to be going well; with the exception of morning sickness which lasted all day.

Fast forward to a few few weeks later when everything turned grey.  Three days after Thanksgiving, I was involved in the car accident.  A teenager decided to blindly enter traffic and T-boned me.  It was in a parking lot of a shopping complex so luckily speeds were not high.  I didn’t think to go to the doctor.  Honestly, I was just happy that my kids who are almost always with me were not in the car at that moment.  A week to two weeks later I went for my scheduled prenatal appointment and found out that we had lost of baby sometime around the time of the car accident.  Whether or not the accident was the cause I will never know.  All I know is that I lost something….a part of me.

I remember the horrible feeling, that sad phone call to my husband, every pain, every sorrow, every horrible thought.  I was heartbroken.  Empty.  What made things worse was a fact that I had lost my baby but not passed him or her.  My lil’ guy was still inside of me.  The irony- my body couldn’t sustain life but would not release its mortal vessel.  Because I was 9 weeks and for a 5 days the doctor gave me the option of waiting to let it pass on its own or have a D&C.  I waited weeks and nothing happened.  It felt like it was never ending; like I was relieving the miscarriage every single day.  My husband and I took a turn for the worse.  He was still angry with God and hurt.  Going to church was even harder.  Overtime, I too became upset with Heavenly Father. I needed to move on and couldn’t knowing that there was a lifeless body inside me.  I got to a morbid place where I was literally googling how to miscarry a baby.  I was drinking raspberry leaf tea and doing all sorts of crazy things.  I was in a dark place.

My husband decided to lift my spirits by sending me to see my sister Lindsay and Indiana.  I prayed so hard that I would pass the baby in Indiana so that Jonny wouldn’t have to be there and deal with that.  Plus, I would have my sister to make things better.  And of course the week and a half past without a change. Being in Indiana was good. Sarah and I got to play in the snow, visit the Children’s Museum, and get pampered by my sister.  I was distracted but the reality never escaped me.

My absence had an even greater affect on my husband.  No one really thinks or talks about the husbands and miscarriage.  They should!  Jonny felt everything as greatly as I did.  We needed to be back together.  He needed me and our chukkas.  Needless to say, Jonny was so happy to have us home.  He immediately held Sarah in his arms at the terminal and didn’t let go.154568_10151351149210210_612961063_n.jpg

After getting home I went in for another appointment.  It got to the point where the doctor said it was no longer healthy and safe for me to wait and that I was going to have to proceed with a D&C.  We did not have the funds to go through such a surgery and frankly, I was scared.  I had read somewhere online about some pills that you could take to encourage your body to release the bad.  I guess some kind of abortion pill.  I asked my doctor about them and why he had never spoken to me about them prior.  He said they were experimental and doctors weren’t sure of dosage but we could try it.  So he wrote me prescription and I went immediatly to Walgreens.

It felt wrong giving that prescription to the pharmacist.  I’m very pro-life and here I was requesting these pills.  I read up on everything I could regarding the pills and its often horrific side-effects (labor pains, hemorrhaging and more).  I was not deterred.  I knew it was what needed to be done.  I didn’t want to scare my husband and with the possibilities of what could happen as consequence to taking the pills.  I did however tell my neighbor and ask her if she would watch my daughter in the event of something bad happening and had to go to the ER.  All the online commentors said that I was going to experience horrible cramping and the best time to take it was at night.  That was my plan.  In the evening, I took 6 pills and prepared myself mentally for the worst.  First tender mercy, I was able to sleep.  Such a blessing.

I awoke at some point with some cramping so I decided to go take a bath. The warm water helped and I was able to relax a little.  I remember the silence, the warmth of the water, the salt of the tears and the feeling the smooth porcelain on my hands as I pushed myself out of the tub.  The weight or pressure from getting out of the water released my baby.  I felt so many emotions at that moment.  Those same emotions I feel right now.  My fear and sorrow were briefly replaced with a feeling of peace.   I cradled the little kidney bean shaped sac in my hands and cried, then said goodbye.  I decided not awake my husband.  I did not want him to have to go through any more pain.  IH was horrible. But at the same time is beautiful.  Earlier that day, I had read an article about the tender mercies of the Lord.  I truly feel that He was with me.  I took six of those pills; a higher dosage than those taken by others online.  I should have had a horrible experience and didn’t.

jesus-with-child-lds-scripturesAt that moment, I truly felt that I had experienced another  tender mercy of the Lord in the passing of my little one. Everything should have been so much worse.  Heavenly Father knew that I had suffered for so long and at that time I needed peace.  The blessing I had received earlier that night from my husband came to pass.  In passing my baby I was able to finally start healing.  I needed it.  We needed it after such a long event that racked our spirituality and marital relationship.  Honestly, I don’t think we truly got better for another year or so.
Now, life is good. I am happily married with three beautiful children. I live near my dear parents who spoil my children like crazy.  Have I forgotten what transpired?  No.  It still hurts everytime I think about it or read an article or Facebook post about miscarriage.  The loss of a child leaves a hole that never really gets filled.  As I reflect on my miscarriage I can recognize the love and comfort I received from my Heavenly Father; not just that moment in the bath tub but throughout the entire process.  This particular trial taught me to have compassion for others.  I have gained empathy and a greater appreciation for life and for my family.  That’s what we’re supposed to do, right?  Learn from our trials and become more like Him.  
My miscarriage is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through.  I’ll openly admit that I may have failed that test.  However, I can honestly say I did learn, grow, and gain positive things from it.  One such is a testimony that I have a loving Heavenly Father who knows my strengths and weaknesses.  He knows our pains and sends the Holy Ghost comfort us.  I know I have a loving brother, Jesus Christ, who suffered and felt my anguish in the Garden of Gethsemene.  It is through that sacrifice that I will be able to live with my family again in heaven.  It is through His atonement that I will experience the greatest blessings my Father has to give; that of eternal families. I love my family and am grateful for all my Father in Heaven bestowed upon me; both blessings and trials. He truly is the God of Love.
If you are interested in learning more about eternal families click here or here.  Thank you for taking the time to read this post.  I hope it reaches someone who needs it.  

Why So Many Hats?

We all wear multiple hats.  It’s what makes our lives unique and exciting and at the same time exhausting and overwhelming.  I am no different.

Over the past few years I have worn the hat of mother, wife, counselor, educator, maid, chauffeur, daughter, friend, business partner, medic, seemstress, and more.

I have a love/hate relationship with my mom hat.  Motherhood is a blessing not offered to all. It comes with dirt, bodily fluids, tears, pain, joy and utter happiness.  Quite often I feel that my a## is getting kicked trying to get everything done while keeping the kids alive and thriving but then there are those moments when you catch your little ones playing together, being good citizens and genuinely happy that you stop, smile and straighten out your hat.

Recently, I decided to become an online produce reviewer. It’s a new hat but I quite like it.  I mean who isn’t going to like getting free and heavily discounted items in exchange for an honest review. My goal is in a years time to review big, rad items like Smart Toys, Cameras, etc. Reviewing is what initially motivated me to write this blog but now that I’ve started I’m super excited to share with you my many hats.  Hopefully you enjoy it and come back often.  Til then paka (that’s Russian for bye).


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