It’s a privilege


To the mama who was just up four times last night.

To the mama who can’t get her little one to sleep.

To the mama whose house has been taken over by tiny two legged tornadoes.

To the mama kissing those cheeks goodbye and dropping off at daycare.

To the mama who just needs five seconds alone.

To the mama grieving.

To the mama running on empty.

To the mama who keeps trying to make it all look perfect from the outside.

To the mama waiting.

To the mama with a special needs baby.

To the new mama.

To the mama wondering where her sanity went.

God sees you.

He sees you

And He hears you.

Being a mom can feel like we’re walking this up hill battle (in freezing weather in shorts and flip flops dehydrated) alone. Which is so crazy when you think about it because hello, we all have mothers. Which means we aren’t the only ones. Or the first ones to go through what ever it is we’re going through. Sometimes I think as a mom, our days are so bad that no one else could possibly have gone through anything like that. It gets me into a little pit sometimes. The reality is that I can just text anyone of my mommy friends and their response is always, “Girl I know”, or “But let me tell you about mine”.

We aren’t alone as mothers. No matter how it feels sometimes.

I feel like the ‘job’ as a mother isn’t seen enough. We live in a society that tells us (constantly these days) that we are women, hear us roar. At our big jobs, and our important roles within our communities and societies. And I just have to scratch my head. If we’re supposed to be lifting each other up as women, why doesn’t it feel like “just being a mom” is enough? It feels like, if you aren’t out there in the world doing it, then you’re not doing anything.

And for the record, what does that even mean?

And I’m here to tell you that being a mother is the most important job there is.

There’s this false narrative being spread that our jobs need certain descriptions. Titles, places that we get our paychecks from, an actual building we have to enter.

And I’m here to tell you even more.

Being a mom isn’t a job, it’s a beautiful privilege.

One that I can honestly say I take for granted at least once a day.

God created each and every one of us to be mothers to the tiny humans He’s blessed us with. We’ve been given this gift to mother them. To raise them up. Not only to just be good humans,

but to be Jesus seeking, Holy Spirit filled human beings. 

And listen. I get it. Being a mom is really, freaking hard some days. But mama hear me when I say this. You are doing a better job than any other human on this earth could do.

Some nights I give my self a high five just for keeping her alive.

God has us. Even though we’re moms now, and we hold our little ones, God is still holding us. Giving us strength and wisdom. We just have to take a second and ask for it. Which I understand is hard. There’s something about becoming a mom and not wanting to ask for help.
But He’s got the answers.

That’s right. Because I, your God,
have a firm grip on you and I’m not letting go.
I’m telling you, ‘Don’t panic.
I’m right here to help you.’
-Isaiah 41:13 MSG

Mama. Hear that.

He isn’t letting go, and He’s right here to help.

Your ‘job’ as a mother counts. You’re the who God picked, long before you were even born, to be their mama.

While He was creating the earth and placing each star into the sky…He already knew you’d be that baby’s mama.

So here’s to being a mom. Here’s to not having any idea what we’re doing, but doing it the best anyways.

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Mommy “Me Time

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Being a stay at home mom is hard.

I know this isn’t a life changing revelation, but it’s the truth. The hard, cold truth that I don’t think a lot of moms talk about.

It’s only the second week in January, and I’m already feeling like I can’t keep my head above water. Christmas decorations just got taken down, my house is never clean like I want it, the laundry is never done, and this blog post never gets written.

Em isn’t taking very long naps during the day, so if I’m lucky, I get (at most) an hour and a half a day to do things for myself. I make lunch, work out, try to get in the Word and then she’s up.

I honestly don’t know how mothers of toddlers get anything done during the day when they’re awake.

I love the stage she’s in. I really, truly do. She’s my tiny best friend and I wouldn’t change that for the world. She talks, gibberish, she walks, she plays…but she needs constant supervision. I’m also still on the “not too much tv” train, which means I try to limit that to just in the mornings. Some days. I fail miserably at that. But most days I try really hard to get her outside, playing with the thousands of toys she has, or doing something productive.

She’s in bed and asleep by 7, which is great because then I get to make dinner and hang out with the hubs. I love to cook. It soothes me. It’s the only thing in my life that I can do and not think about anything else. Honestly. The world could be on fire and I wouldn’t notice while I cooked. By the time we’re done eating and hang out for a bit, it’s 930, and then time for bed.

Before the year ended last year I started to think about how I could fit more me time into my day. Because ya’ll. Mothers need time to themselves. I’m sure it’s been scientifically proven. I can tell you, from first hand experience, if we don’t get time to ourselves, we’ll go insane. Not that I’m totally insane yet.

We need time to recharge, regroup, and figure out what in the world we’re doing.

I decided on putting Em into a “school” for a couple days a week. We’re currently in the middle of deciding on a school, or Mommys Day Out program.

And I’ll be totally honest here and say that I’m really excited for her to go.

First and foremost. It’s good for her. Like really good. Not to sound like one of those hippie moms but the socialization for her will do wonders. Hello only child. Also, the older she gets, the more I realize I need help in the “education” department. I’m great at playing with her and showing her colors and shapes, but I don’t have the gift of teaching.

So I’m finding someone else who does.

Because I also think it’s really important as mothers to know what our gifts are, and what gifts we don’t have so we can find help.

She’ll go for two days a week in the morning, and I am already planning out my days.

I can’t and won’t feel bad about this decision.

Some moms can do it. Some can keep their babes home until they go to kindergarten and it’s wonderful. I’m learning that I can’t. Does that sting a little for me? Of course. And honestly, this might not work out at all, but I’m giving it a try because I think it’s the best thing to do for our family.

And that’s the key here, mamas. You have got to do what’s best for your family.

I run a photography business as well. Which is needing a lot more attention then I am giving it/ can give it right now. This blog can be inserted into that category as well.

I think it’s really easy to look on Instagram and see the perfect stay at home mom, with her perfect kids and her perfect pictures and wonder how she does it all.

I’m here to tell you, that either she has help, or she’s totally faking it.

I’ve decided to stop faking it. Not that I think I portray this picture perfect life on Instagram, but I’m done trying to pretend like I’ve got it all, while I also keep feeling like my life vest wasn’t inflated properly.

God has blessed me with the most amazing husband who has given me the most amazing opportunity to be a stay at home mommy to the worlds best kid. I’m learning what I’m really good at as a mom, and what I’m not stellar at.

I’m not good at asking for help either. So maybe this is me working on that too. I’m not good at saying, “Hey, I need a couple hours to myself”. Weeks will go by and I’ll realize I haven’t spent any time to myself and then hit a wall. Not fair to me, or my family.

Mama needs to get her stuff in order. Mama needs to spend some time letting her brain think about things other than, “Is the Tiny one hungry, tired, or need to be changed?” And just because I want to do these things, doesn’t make me a bad mom. It will make me a better one.

Some moms can do it all. I can’t.

Being a mother is the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I’ve grown and changed so much. But I’m still here.

So here’s to working on ourselves mamas.

How do you spend sometime focusing just on you?

I want to make sure everyone knows that I don’t take being a stay at home mom for granted. I do not. I’m nervous to hit publish on this post because I don’t want it to be taken the wrong way. Let’s be honest, maybe that’s a little bit of guilt that I can’t figure out how to be super mom, business owner, homemaker and wife all the time. Or maybe…just maybe, I’ll hear from another mom who gets it. Either way. This is my heart. I love my baby girl more than life itself, and I am so thankful to have the husband I do.


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New Year, New Goals

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I still haven’t totally made my mind up on whether I like goals or not. I make them every year, and most times I don’t come through with them.

But when I say I feel a little different this year…I actually mean it.
I’ve got this, “You go, girl” attitude happening right now.

And the key is to keep it going.

I came up with nine goals for my year. Nine goals that get me really, really excited about life in general.

#1. Read through the Bible.
I’m pretty sure this has been on my goals list for a couple years now, and to be even more honest here I’ll say I’m not even sure I’ve ever started it. Ok I’ve started, but I get to the end of Genesis and stop. If you’ve got a good plan let me hear it!

#2. Get in better shape.
I actually wrote “loose weight” in my notebook but I don’t really love that idea. I’m not defined by the number on the scale, so it’s so much more about how I feel. I’ve never struggled with weight, but I’m currently the heaviest I’ve ever been. And while I’ve thought I’d loose all that baby weight by now, I haven’t. I’m starting the 21 day Fix again next week, so there’s a jump start on this goal!

#3. Cook through “French Country Cooking”.
Sonny got me this, and a Dutch oven for Christmas and I’ve never loved a cookbook more. I’ve also never picked one up and thought that I needed to make every.single. recipe in it. Like, every one. Every. Single. One. I’ve already made three so far. Which is pretty much more than any other cookbook I own.

#4. Read 25 books.
Between last June and now, I’ve finished 15 books. When I counted them all up the other day I was so proud of myself. So here’s to reading more than my goal!

#5. Find a home for everything!
Even if I have to buy every organizer and container known to man, my home will be organized!

#6. Reevaluate/ Redesign Megan Elizabeth Photography.
I own a photography business. That I’ve honestly put on the back burner for the last couple of years, but I’m so freaking excited to move it up to one of the front ones. I’m sharing a big announcement on there today in fact!

#7. Go on a family vacation.
When you live in the place that people normally vacation to, it makes actually taking a vacation hard. And yes, I get that Emily is only a year old. But a nice weekend away would be lovely. I’m thinking Savanah.

#8. Memorize more scripture.
Because it’s just better for everyone.

#9. Start having dinner all together.
This one might be more towards summer and the end of the year, to be honest. Em still eats dinner around 430/5 so once I can get her more towards 5/530 I want us to start having dinner all together. Sonny and I usually don’t eat until 8, so it would be a nice change for everyone. Plus. Family dinners are the highlights of my childhood.

So 2017, let’s do this. All the things, but not too many of the things that I loose focus.

What are your goals for the new year?

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I am not defined by the number on my jeans.

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My sweet baby girl is fourteen months old,
and I still don’t fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans.

Dang, that feels good to say.

I want to start by saying that I’m cheering you moms on that can get back into your jeans. I am. I’m insanely jealous, but I’m cheering you on. Because we’re all in this together.

But I defiantly don’t think we talk about the fact that our bodies are completely different than they used to be enough, which means that it’s ok if we don’t ever fit back into those pre-pregnancy jeans. Because we aren’t defined by a number embroidered on our pants. 

I grew a new organ, which helped me grow and house a HUMAN BEING for nine months. My body is different. My hips got wider, my boobs got bigger, my butt got bigger, I saw cottage cheese on my thighs that I had never seen before…but I grew and birthed a healthy beautiful and perfect baby girl.

I decided to go jeans shopping the other day for the first time since Em’s been born. I had picked up a pair of jeans at Target after she was born because I just couldn’t do maternity clothes anymore. But since she’s been here, I haven’t ventured into a store specifically looking for jeans. To be honest, I’ve been wearing jeans with a rubber band around the buttons this whole time.
So I headed to the mall.

I knew going in that I needed to start with a size up from what I used to be. Which I’m honestly fine with. Because, and lets all say this together: I am not defined by a number on my pants.
I went into Lucky first because years ago I had bought a couple pairs of their jeans and they lasted me…well years. I grabbed the size 8 and headed for the dressing room.

I couldn’t even get the buttons close to each other.
I checked the tag to make sure I hadn’t picked up a size 4 on accident.
Nope. That big 8/29 was staring me in the face.

Tears filled my eyes.

I am not defined by a number,

but it sure did feel crappy not fitting into those jeans.

It’s totally shallow, but I wasn’t about to go up any further in sizes there. It just wasn’t worth it to me. Having been a size 6 my whole life pretty much, I’m not sure I would have handled seeing double digits well.

Can we pause for a moment and just all yell out, “WHY CAN’T ALL SIZES BE THE SAME?!” Why is an 8 at one place a 2 at another?!

I’d also like to add that I felt like I couldn’t fit in any less in that store. There I was, hair up in a bun, Indians shirt on, pushing my stroller through the most cramped store on earth, while all the employees stared at me.

I left the jeans in the changing room and headed out.

We strolled into Gap where I couldn’t find a wash that I loved.
Loft had jeans that made me have a huge crotch bulge when I sat down.
And I honest to God gave Hollister a thought but then if an 8 at Lucky didn’t fit, there wasn’t the slightest glimmer of hope for me there.

I left the mall feeling terrible about myself.

It’s hard being a woman you guys. And even more so a mom. When you’re surrounded by fitness Instagram accounts of moms that do nothing but post shirtless selfies, you can get yourself into a big hole. When you’ve got friends that won’t stop bragging about all the weight they lost breastfeeding, you can get yourself into a big hole. While other moms are posting pictures in full make up and hair done, I’m lucky to have gotten in the shower before 4 pm.

Even as I write this, I have that crap feeling in my gut.
Like I don’t do enough.
Like I didn’t breastfeed for long enough.
Like I’m not enough.

But we have to stop.

Moms that still don’t fit into your pre-pregnancy jeans and you’re kids one, or two, or five…we have to stop comparing ourselves to the moms who can.
Our lives are different.

My brain doesn’t wake up thinking, “I gatta work out”, it’s always thinking, “Oh please go back to bed for 15 more minutes”. I’ll take butter over coconut oil every day.
Wine. It’s just a non-negotiable for me.
On crappy days I want to wallow in self-pity with a big bowl of pasta or fried rice.

 I am not defined by a number on my jeans. 

As far as I know, I’m healthy. I take the kids (dog included here) on a walk every morning. I try to cook at home as often as possible. I also try to get yoga in daily. But I have too many other wonderful things happening in my life right now to worry about what size jeans I bought.

Which are an 8 at Target incase you were wondering.
Target, with the win. Per usual. 

So here’s what needs to happen.
I need to quit rolling my eyes when I see other mama friends say they fit back into those jeans. Because I’ll say it again, I am applauding you over here!
But I also think that we’ve become this super workout driven society that almost border line shames people into thinking that if they don’t do it, they don’t fit in.

Do I think we all need to take care of ourselves? Of course.
Do I think I could be doing more to loose weight and be in better shape? Of course.

But this is where I am. And while not every day I feel great about it, I have to realize that I’m making all the choices in my life, which means there’s no one here to blame, or celebrate but me.

So if you fit into those jeans or not.

It’s fine.

Because the number on them doesn’t define you. 


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On The Hard Days

Oh, girl. There are going to be hard days.
We just got done going through our first Hurricane with our tiny human and I’m here to tell you they were all hard days. Leading up to it, watching the news and hearing the weather man say words like “total devastation”, makes for one stressful mama.

Here’s what I’ve learned so far as a mom though. Tomorrow will be here before you know it, and the hard day will be over. This doesn’t make it easier, no. But it reminds me that these hard days are honestly far and few between, and in ten years I won’t remember them.
Ok, yes. I’ll remember the hurricane.

But those ordinarily hard days, when you’re tired and have the most active tiny human who just wants to go go go, and then the dog tracks poop all through the house and the end just doesn’t seem in site…those days are going to come to an end.

Tomorrow is going to come and we can make it so much better.

On the hard days, give yourself some grace. To mess up, to have a short fuse. Sometimes I just think it’s better to acknowledge the bad day, get through it, and move on. Than it is to dwell on it. Or try and wrestle with yourself all day to make things change.

It’s ok to have super grumpy days. Been there, done that. Not even sorry considering they happen maybe once a month. That’s why God invented Starbucks and Target. Heaven on earth for mothers.

So on the hard days, just let it be that.
But on the next day, wake up knowing it will be a good one.

And listen to me here. Listen really, really well. Just because you have a hard and terrible day does not mean you are a bad mother. These bad days will happen. You’ll loose your ever loving you know what on the most ridiculous things, and your kids will think you’re a complete loony bin. But that one day doesn’t make up for the other 99% of the time when you’re totally on your game. When nothing goes unnoticed, when everyone is every where on time, when no one is left crying at the dinner table still hungry.

You’re doing an amazing job.

So just let the bad days happen.

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