Leaving the Range

Eight years ago, I was a newly-jobless mother of two girls, ages 1 and 3. I’d left my job as the director of communications for a sizable non-profit in exchange for more time with my progeny. I envisioned delightful outings and play dates and leisurely afternoons spent reading and cuddling and baking cookies. And sometimes, that happened. But truth be told, I was miserable. I was broke. I was lost and fumbling, unsure of my purpose or value.

So darn precious. Those days were long, but the years were short. I will not cry. I will not cry.

So I started freelancing. I picked up projects here and there, but it wasn’t enough to fulfill my need to create. So many words. So many stories. I did what every red-blooded white lady who lives out in the …

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2 Hands, 30 Years

And if all I’ve done in 30 years is learned to make the perfect biscuits, what else is there?

As I mark the beginning of my 30th year, I can’t help but feel a sense of insecurity. No, I’m not concerned about the number, but rather, the lack of competence that comes with it. I thought I’d know how to do more by now. Thought I’d feel wise and, well, grown up. But more often than not, I feel like a seventeen-year-old trapped in an ever-widening, ever-gravity pulled body. I feel both old and green, a strange combination, until I force myself to consider all the works these two hands have made. My hands, once delicate extensions of willowy arms, have shown the signs of aging more so than my face, and have a much …

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I sit and stare at the number on my computer screen. It’s big.

“Can I really sell that much jewelry? In that much time?”

Doubts and fears and second thoughts flood my mind. Is it worth it? Will people think I’m crazy? Will I annoy someone if I ask for their help?

But then I remember the payoff. Putting a significant dent in my student loan debt…and…the tropical icing on the cake…an all-expense-paid trip for two to Panama in January, 2014.

“Do I deserve that? Will I even want to leave my girls? Will I be too scared to fly?”

But then I remember the upside. Quality time with my husband. A chance to take a trip of a lifetime. Making memories that will tighten the bonds of our marriage for years to come.

Yes. I must do this. Yes. I …

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“You’re going to what?!” I believe this was my initial reaction (internally) several years ago when my sister said she wanted to adopt. And not an infant, a middle-school age boy, a couple of years younger than her youngest. It was something God was calling her to do, though, and I couldn’t argue with that. But I kind of thought she was crazy. I mean, most mothers are bittersweet about their last one leaving the nest, but don’t necessarily start backfilling.

My sister and her husband (and some other legal-type guy) with their new son.


My sister is sixteen years my senior, and although age kept us at a distance growing up, she’s now my best friend. One, two, three, four, my nephews entered the world, starting when I was five years old. They seem more …

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Happy mommy, happy girls. This time has been precious, but I know the future holds even more sweet moments.

This isn’t really an announcement so much as it is an explanation. Back in March 2012, I opted out of the workforce, leaving my job as director of communications for a statewide non-profit to stay home with my girls (then ages 10 months and two years). I’ve chronicled the ups, the downs, my insecurities and my successes. I found I have a heart for moms, and helping them find their ideal balance, whether it be at home full time, at work full time, or somewhere in between.

I didn’t pursue much freelance work at first, just simply wanting to check out and enjoy my time with my precious girls. Over time, though, both my …

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Father and daughter at sunset.

If you’re like me, when you latch on to a new hobby, you bite down…hard. You’re all consumed with dabbling in your new craft, often at the expense of family and friends. Lately, I can’t seem to pry my camera from my hand. I just keep snapping and snapping and snapping…and I’m sure it’s fairly annoying for my children and husband. And to be quite honest, it’s sucked some of my creative energy from my writing. But I’m trying to just go with it. I don’t want to do it for money, or take classes, or compete with others. I just want to do it for the sheer pleasure of seeing what I can capture.

Little lady on the wheat.

So tonight, as the golden sunset began forming on the horizon, …

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