Thankful quote post.... I feel these deep inside of me.

Sometimes we just need a good old quote post to get our minds and hearts in the right place.



Am I right??!? ;) But, in all seriousness....



Goal: Get better at telling Him and the people around me.



So many long nights with babies, or sick children, but morning always came...




Open your hands and your hearts and spread it. Give it away.



Grace, grace, God's grace.



Actions speak louder than words.



Truth, Albert, truth.


Happy Thanksgiving !!  If you need a meal and live locally, contact me and we will have you come and sit around our table!

Transformation Friday, because why should transformation be confined to Tuesday?

      First, let me say I write this post from a vulnerable position. In fact, part of me wants to just shut my computer right now and forget about it. Don't do it Jen, don't be open, don't let people see that you haven't ever and still don't have it all together. But, the whole point of transformation is changing that mindset, little by little. So here goes....
      I have these dreams that circle in my head, dreams of being a difference maker. Anyone who knows me from any period of my life knows that I have always been a dreamer. W hen I was young I dreamed of being a dolphin trainer, and spending my days swimming freely in warm, tropical waters with these smart animals, flying through the water and the air with them. As, I grew my dreams changed.  Frankly, I never had that clear picture of what exactly I wanted to do career wise with my life. I flirted with different ideas, started college for education but wasn't committed to that plan. There was a teacher shortage at that time and my brother and sister in law (both teachers) were struggling to find work. So, I jumped ship and moved on to cosmetology school. I had always loved working with my hands and being creative so it seemed like it might be a good fit. After graduating and working in that field for a couple years I felt stale and restless and knew I needed to move on. I used to look back at that time and think of it as wasted time but then God blessed me with four girls and it all made sense. :) Also, because of this bunny trail, I knew I loved people and their stories and that I wanted to help and impact the outcomes of people's stories.
       Nursing was the fit I was looking for. People go to the hospital because they need help, they are vulnerable, and they need care that they can't provide for themselves. I love being a nurse, a a care taker, a smile and encouragement in hard situations. Currently, I work as a nurse and I enjoy it. I have a couple of fabulous bosses. I work with the team of hardworking and fun individuals.  However, with two of my children now in school now it is hard to work every weekend and miss their days off. That is what brought me to a Beach Body. I was in an emotionally difficult place. I was 5 plus months post partum and frustrated with where my body was but most concerned about how I felt mentally. I was struggling, struggling to be positive and happy. I felt somewhat lost. I knew I needed to make a change.
       Sometimes the best way to help and heal yourself is to help and heal others. There are things we can't change in our life, in/on our body, but there are also things we can. I am the worst salesperson ever but you know what I want to inspire women (and men) on their journeys. I want to encourage, challenge, and stand beside people who want to change their lives! Letting go of the things we can't change in life (like the amount of stretch marks my beautiful babies gave me or my love for The Salted Cupcake) and chasing hard after the things we can. If you are at a point in your life and you want to make a change, I would love to help you change patterns and reach your goals, whatever they may be. Please feel free to message me on Facebook or email me at

My Transformation Friday

With some dear friends in August, weighing in 165lbs.

With my babies today, 3 months later, weighing in at 146, almost to goal.

Brace yourself for IMPACT

         Today, we go deeper. Down into hidden places, vulnerable places, places we try to keep safe because sharing them leaves us open susceptible to others words and our own fears. Last night, my thoughts settled on IMPACT. As I lay in the warmth and protection of my bed, what would be the impact I left if I died tomorrow, slightly morbid maybe, but true. There have been many news stories lately that have rested, heavy, on my heart. There is the powerful photos of Syrian refugee children resting or sleeping alone, exposed, vulnerable. I feel the impact these photos relay, my heart aches for these children, for what their eyes have seen and what their heart have felt, at such a young age. We sing, "Jesus, please break my heart for what breaks yours..."  Jesus, this must break your heart, the brokenness of mankind, because my heart is crushed.
          There are two stories about local Grand Rapids women (Rebecca Diaz and Rebecca Moore) who suffered as victims of domestic violence and were murdered in the past couple weeks. Murdered by men that they shared their lives and bodies with, bore children with, loved. These women, both close in age to me, were mothers who leave behind a total of seven children between the two of them. Seven children who will never feel the warmth and safety of their mother's hug, they will never see her eyes twinkle or her mouth smile at them again. Another generation experiencing deep, cutting pain. Two of these children who will one day grow to an age where they understand that their "father" was responsible for the "execution" style murders of the women who gave them life. A generation forever impacted.
         Here I am blessed with four, beautiful, unique, individual little girls, with the responsibility to be an example to them, to pour into them purpose and worth. I would be lying if I said it wasn't one of my deepest fears that I fail, that one, or more, of my daughters won't know in her heart and soul, her value to God, to her parents, and to the world around her. As a result of not believing in her worth, she ends up in the same situation that these women did. It terrifies me. Fear can make a powerful impact.
         The last story I will share is that of 28 year old Amanda Blackburn. Her story has caught media attention nationwide. It could be because of her beauty, the fact she was a wife of a young pastor, 12 weeks pregnant and a mother of a 1 year old, who was mysteriously murdered in the past week while in the "safety" of her home. While the story is heart wrenching, the suspect still at large, wounds so fresh and raw in a community of believers, what impacted me most was what her husband chose to share about her. An opportunity to express his anger, hurt, hate because of what was done to his best friend and mother of his children. What did he do? He spoke of her impact, her selflessness, her heart.  He spoke of her loving the "unlovable", finding value in the "worthless", what she meant to those who loved her or just encountered her. I couldn't help but think when she stood before Christ for the first time he must have said, "Well done, my good and faithful servant!".
       That is the impact I want. I want to leave it all on the field. I don't want to live a life in a safe zone, on the bench. I have that restless feeling in my heart, I want to be a starter, I want to play the whole game and leave it all out there. I want to inspire, chase dreams, love broken people, be vulnerable and open.  I have one chance.  One chance to do this life without being bound so tightly by the fear of perceived expectations, of others, or myself.  I want to find value in all human beings. I want to pour my heart into being a mother, wife, friend, nurse, health coach, etc... I want to be  a safe and positive place for those around me. Heavenly Father, lead me in YOUR way. May I walk worthy of your calling.

     

Udderly Tired...

Breast feeding mamas, this one is for you!

          Today, I am udderly tired. Literally, udderly.  It has a component of mental tiredness, but is also, in large part, physical in nature. You know you have reached this point when you are walking through the deli section at your local Aldi's and your thoughts run to those poor female cows. I mean, I am drinking only coconut and almond milk (for many reasons, but one of them is...) because the thought of me contributing to another XX chromosome creature having to have her life juice sucked out of her every couple hours leaves with immense guilt. That poor 'ole girl must be udderly tired.

              Did you wince at this picture? If so, you know what it means to be udderly tired. :)

       I could have reached this point because my youngest has had some intense, negative food reactions and thus, is still primarily breast fed at 6.5 months. Or maybe it is because in the last 7 years I have been breast feeding for over 3 and 1/2 years of them. Wow, that is powerful to write down. Who knew these itty bitty B cups would be able to handle that kind of traffic? It could be that as a breast feeding mother you agonize every time your baby is really fussy or upset, "Was it something I ate?" and then proceed to analyze every last meal you have consumed in the last 48 hrs for possible contributing parties. There is boob guilt.  It is a real thing and I think it could be the reason I am I udderly tired.
                                                     
                                               

                        Was it the pizza? Brocolli? Milk? Oatmeal? Maybe the air I breathed?
     

           Or it could be that just when you think you have finally made it through the stage when your breasts are one of the reasons, along with your personality and intellect (of course), that you are being pursued, it becomes the primary reason you are being pursued. The hollers that used to only come when you dressed up and wore heels down a busy street now come every couple hours round the clock.
                                      

Babies don't care if you have drool stuck to the side of your face because it is 2:30 in the stinkin' morning. They are still going to holler away! And, because you love them with every deep and hidden part of your soul, you stumble through the halls, kicking toys, and spewing venom about why women had to be designed with the breast feeding capabilities. But you only ever dare spew venom in your head because you would never risk waking them anymore then they already are. Plus, you are desperately hoping this visit is for a 5 minute fill up and go. Over time it makes you udderly tired.  Truth.

Could I continue on? You bet. Will I continue on breastfeeding? You bet. I am committed.  Even though I am udderly tired there are these moments that are so ridiculously sweet it takes your breath away. Plus, these bad boys are significantly reducing my monthly grocery bill. Formula is expensive! So, if you are in these same shoes or will be in the future, I hope you know you are NOT alone! Cheer to us breast feeding mommas being udderly tired together!

Help a sister out... I mean really, if you have a sister, and she needs help, help her out.

Another one of those mornings....

        This morning.... it was just one of those mornings... My 6 month old has never taken a pacifier (or a bottle well) since birth. She never took to her thumb either. As a result, a large percentage of the time when she cries I soothe her by breastfeeding. It comforts her, and has made her an adorably chubby 6 month old. However, this waking 2-3 times in the night is starting to tire this  momma out. I know, I know, she is number #4 and I should have this figured out by now, but I feel like I have been the worst with a good sleep schedule for her. What? You just laid down for a nap? Sorry, we have to grab your sister from school! Oh, you were sleeping?! We need groceries in the house for dinner... And so it goes...

      
   I am contemplating and dreading the whole sleep training process. Last night, I decided to sleep out in the back room with Ruby in the pack and play, next to me, and just give it a shot. My hubs is scheduled for a medical procedure today and I wanted him to be able to rest for it.  So, we ventured out to the other side of the house. Her first wake up was 3:45. Not bad considering she had went down around 8pm, and I last fed her at 10 before I went to sleep. But then she cried again at 5:30, and I scooped her right up and snuggled and fed her again... Then my, "I always rise before the sun", 2 year old came trotting out into kitchen at 5:55 calling, "Mom?, Mama? I hungry!"  Gah, to the time change! I thought 6:45am every morning was early enough, it 5:55 really necessary. So, I picked her up and headed to my bedroom to at least "snuggle until the sun wakes up" which turned into her kicking and crawling all over me for 45 minutes.  Well, that was worth it, oh wait, not at all....
        Now it is a mad dash to get lunches packed, I really should have went to the store yesterday... Girls, can you please eat these eggs with spinach for breakfast?

I know you have been living strictly on the Halloween candy hidden under your beds but try these I swear they taste just as good. Ten minutes later... oh you haven't eaten anything and we have to be up to the bus in 25 minutes? Awesome, you need to eat at least 5 bites in the next 5 minutes or stuff is going to go down! 3.5 bites in? Fine. Get in your bedroom and let's get you dressed. Oh, you can't wear that outfit? You worn it 3 times this school year already? Ok, that makes total sense. Here, lets just wear sweatpants and a hoodie. Did you both change undies? Lena calls out from the kitchen, I have to go potty mom!! Go ahead and go Lena, you know where the toilet is! Girls, let quick brush your hair so you don't look homeless, you teeth may have to wait this AM just don't breath on anyone to start the day. Ruby has awoken and is starting to cry. Lena calls out again, "Mom!" followed by some tears and I know there has been a potty accident. I run out of the bathroom to the kitchen to find her standing on the island. She had no doubtedly crawled up there in search of my phone to watch My Little Pony or Frozen You Tube videos and couldn't get down when she felt the need to go. Now she is standing in a puddle of urine on my counter. (I will spare you that picture.) Perfect. Grab two year old, strip naked, and place on toilet, grab towel dry puddle of urine, grab lunches and throw in backpacks, kiss faces, say I am sorry this morning has been so rough, please have a great day, and send two out the door. Breathe.
      My mind is racing, why did this morning go like that? I hate sending my kids to school racing up the driveway. Why does my 2 year old search out my phone from every cranny in the house? Is she going to have addiction problems later in life? Oh yes, Ruby you are still crying! Here let me feed you and changing your 20 lb. diaper. Am I getting worse at handling this chaos?
      Then, I pull myself back from that ledge. Breathe. You have a Savior. You don't have to figure it all out. You are enough. This morning was not one of my better mornings. But, that is okay. Move forward. We are in charge of changing outcomes. Start the washer and dryer and tackle the laundry that has been neglected due to helping your sister paint her entire kitchen this past week. (Even though she didn't listen to you and placed an offer, that was accepted, on a house before hers is even on the market. Dave Ramsey would be appalled.) Do the dishes in the sink from last nights meal because after a crazy work weekend all you wanted to do was snuggle your babies on the couch and read, "Cloudy , with a side meatballs". Do the workout that you promised yourself you would complete every day for 21 days with a phenomenal group of people. Do something, you have to in order to change an outcome.