Tuesday, December 30, 2014

I had a Plastectomy.

MisterKidd and I recently accomplished a feat that only a few adults ever will (and even fewer will ever want to). It took sweat, tears, crushed pride, and lots of NO, but we made it.

Except for the mortgage on our home, the Kidd family is debt free.

We don't owe any of you fools any money. We're square. We've cut up the cards (plastectomy), burnt the envelopes, and reallocated that income to bigger and better things. Our items are officially ours, we're finished borrowing them, and

we are never going back.

We shared this news with 1,500 of our closest friends last night and got a ton of feedback, so much that I decided to share a little about our journey so far (no, we're not finished yet) and give some practical tips. MisterKidd and I agreed that we wouldn't share in detail about our journey until we were completely finished, but I am realizing how big of an accomplishment this step is from all of the questions we've had today. I think it seems so far away for some of you, and I want to help you understand how attainable it actually is! You can do this!

We have always been money conscious people. We both come from families that taught us to work hard. My mama taught me that if you don't pay your bills early, they're late. Before, we were broke college students, then we got married and became a broke college student and a server at IHOP. Now, we are a SAHM and a non-profit worker. Fortune 500 has never been a part of our description.

Because of our "try hard" nature, I have always pushed myself to manage our money well and cut our expenses where I could. I have grocery shopping down to a science; we are conscious of our energy and water usage; we don't make large, frivolous purchases. But something just wasn't adding up. Money was slipping through the cracks somewhere every month, but I had no record of where it was going because we have always used cash (after over-drafting our checking account several times early in marriage).

We were so tired of living paycheck to paycheck. Our bills were always paid on time, but it seemed like we could not get a handle on our money. Then we began the home buying process and were forced to scrutinize our finances. Everyone involved, including us, wanted to know if we could actually afford to buy a house.

Enter: Dave Ramsey

I checked a book out from the library, and MisterKidd was given a copy of it. We stayed up late every night for a few days reading and talking and planning and getting angry at our debt. It was a magical time. 

That was six months ago. We are now on Baby Step Three of Dave Ramsey's Seven Baby Steps to Financial Freedom as outlined in his book, The Total Money Makeover. We're not even halfway through our goals, and I already feel like our financial life has been completely changed for good. There are only great things to come.

I don't want to repeat everything from the book and/or website that you could read on your own, so I will just share a few things that have really changed our viewpoint when it comes to our finances.

Debt is Debt.
If you have a loan from a bank for a car, truck, boat, house, business, or scooter, you are in debt. You have a thing that you use that belongs to someone else. If you have a credit card and you use it to pay for furniture, clothes, food, or toilet paper, you are in debt. You have a thing that you use that belongs to someone else. If that loan or credit card has interest of any kind, you are paying extra to borrow that thing until you finish paying for the thing. You are in debt. You might be $3000 in debt, you might be $85,000 in debt, but debt is debt. (This might be obvious to some, but it wasn't to us. Be encouraged if it wasn't to you, either.)

Debt is Bad.
Proverbs 22:7 says "...the borrower becomes the lender's slave." Before Christ, I was a slave to my sin and my flesh (Eph. 2:3). I did whatever my sin wanted, which was ultimately to destroy me. In Christ, I am to be a slave to no one but Him. Thankfully, he only wants my good (Romans 8:28). By being in debt, I am choosing slavery to someone or something else. I am saying that what I want right now (car, boat, house, furniture) is more important than the freedom Christ offers me in Him.

Romans 13:8 tells us to "owe no one anything, except to love each other..." WOW. Does Capital One count, Paul? I think it does. The only thing you should owe to another person is love. In our culture, our money and good credit are owed to us for our hard work, and our love is reserved as a gift. I think we've missed the mark on that one as well.

Don't Bible, Bro?** Let's explore "Debt is Bad" from a logical standpoint. You need a new car (or you feel like you might possibly want a new car), so you go to the dealership and pick out a brand new [insert car of your dreams]. You sit down at the desk with the guy, get approved for the loan, sign the papers, get the keys, and drive away. BAM. Your car is now worth half of what it was 20 minutes ago, and you will pay thousands more for it than the sticker price. 

It's called "interest," which makes it sound harmless, good even. I mean, it rhymes with Pinterest...but it should be called "the extra money you have to pay because you actually can't afford to buy this car." It's like a penalty for poor planning. 

Here's Dave's solution to the cycle of debt that is car buying.



Budgets are Essential. 
The old me thought that my "budget" was a list of my bills. We needed to bring in more than that number, and what was left over was just ours. I've learned that a budget must be zero-based to be effective; every penny must be accounted for and told where to go. I hadn't been doing anything close to that, so I was always left wondering where our money had gone. Now we have a strict budget and use that in conjuncture with the envelope system. The results are guilt-free purchases, personal discipline, and the ability to set and attain financial goals.



Later in the week, I'll post some of the actual myths and lies our ears have received about money management in the last six months, our plans moving forward, and maybe a word or two from my sponsor (MisterKidd) on how we plan to aquire things while remaining debt free. 


**Bro, you should Bible. Ask me anything.

Monday, December 29, 2014

#stopfacebookingyourperfectlife

Today was the first day of school for my Big Girl.

Yes, I can read a calendar. 

No, she didn't magically age three years overnight.

We are starting some "play with a purpose" now that Big Girl is two. She has breezed through recognition of upper and lower case letters with little effort on my part, so I know she is ready for more intentional learning. 

I have been researching, planning, and preparing for months, just waiting for her to be ready. I have dreamed about this day in great detail...

We would get up early and eat hearty, delicious, and frugal egg muffin cups from Pinterest for breakfast. Baby Sis would go down for her morning nap just after I finished the dishes so I could focus on Big Girl during "school time." After taking a "first day of school" photo by the chalk board, Big Girl (in her MudPie outfit and gigantic bow) and I would head downstairs to the designated schooling area of our house. We would then engage in age-appropriate and exciting learning adventures based on my carefully selected and slightly modified curriculum, which addressed language, math, fine-, and gross-motor skills. 

But that didn't happen. 

After staying up two hours too late getting my materials ready,



I was awoken 20 minutes after falling asleep by not one, but both girls, who proceeded to wake every few minutes for the next few hours. I lost all concept of time and woke for the day an hour after I had planned. I discovered a cranky Big Girl with a runny nose and a Baby Sis who was already napping. I was losing precious minutes of her naptime! I scrawled a "first day of school" flag on the board and begged Big Girl to stop crying long enough to take a decent picture ("I can't want to say keys!").

We helped Dad out the door just as Baby Sis was waking up 45 minutes too early. I decided to give up on the schedule I had planned for the morning. I made breakfast, which was rejected by my honest toddler, sat Baby Sis up with a new toy, and presented Big Girl with her brand new Tot Time Notebook.

The dry erase portion of the lesson started out ok...then she moved on to the binder, the lap tray, her hands, and her face. Big Girl 4, Mom 1.

We plugged through the rest of my plans fairly well, put Baby Sis down for her actual nap, and then headed to the garage for gross-motor time: Hop on Aa. This was a big hit--but it was mostly me carrying her from one A to the next!

Our first day of school lasted less than an hour total, including the time it took to rock Baby Sis back to sleep (twice). Tomorrow, I will modify and adjust some of our activities based on my reflection of today. Tomorrow, I still won't get it right, and that's ok.

God has given me the opportunity to be here with my girls every day, the knowledge to educate them, and the grace to look to him when I fail as a mom and a teacher. My messy-haired-Minnie-Mouse-pajama-wearing toddler, my unpainted and unswept garage, and my failed plans are not Pinterest-worthy.

It was the perfect day.

[Title credit to my sweet friend, Kerri, and her hashtag.]

Friday, December 19, 2014

I'm not gonna pretend I like the beach

Cruises are a big deal in the middle class right now. So is misusing prescription drugs, but I digress. Stereotype: middle-aged parents, teenage children, newly-weds, retirees trek to the coast from our landlock, board an insanely large vessel (Titanic is leaving Netflix this month--catch it before you book), float away to somewhere foreign, and instagram our brains out. I see these pictures and, depending on my mood, think either "how nice that you get to take a vacation" or

"I'm not gonna pretend I like the beach. Do you really like the beach? Sweat and sun and sand where not even daylight belongs. The salt wrecks my hair, the tan sunburn lasts a week, the shopping sucks. Don't pretend you like that t-shirt you paid $25 for that cost 50 cents to make. Why do we do this to ourselves, America? Is this to fulfill some weird desire to step outside your life here in the deltamountainsontheriver where you have to watch the news to know how to dress your kids tomorrow? Do you need to feel exotic? That's a lot of money you just promised to Capital One for some crappy instagram pictures. You can't really like the beach..."

Mister Kidd and I celebrated our wedding anniversary this week, and as usual, we spent a lot of time reflecting on our marriage.

[Implied Reader: But, weren't you just talking about the beach...? What's that have to do with your marriage?]

Hang on. I think I have a point around here somewhere.

Four years and two days ago, I became legally attached to the person I had been figuratively attached to for the four years before that. It was great and wonderful and fun to finally be able to have sleepovers with my best friend. The "honeymoon phase" was filled with so many new things. I thought, "If the first year is the hardest part of our marriage like everyone says, we'll be ok."

But over the past four years, we've learned that "everyone" don't really know what they're talking about. The hardest part of your marriage is not the first year, not a period of time at all. The hardest part of your marriage is fighting.


Fighting to love your spouse well.

Fighting for intimacy when you can't stand to see his stupid face anymore.

Fighting for joy when you want to take all the bill money and run away.

Fighting yourself and your pride when you want to rule him but you know it's his job to make the best decision for you, and he actually wants to, and he does. Every time, so far.

Fighting to keep him first in your heart after you create some people out of thin air and let them live inside you for the better part of a year.

Fighting to please God in your marriage rather than yourself. Or even him.


I've learned over the past four years of marriage (an eternity to some, a week to others) that the "honeymoon" not only doesn't end, but it doesn't even have to exist. You can always be enamored with each other. You can always be friends. You can always have the "spark." Culture doesn't think so, but culture wasn't told that it would be hard work, so it settled for unhappiness and unrest. It goes to the beach once a year for satisfaction, to feel fulfilled, renewed, young.

I have resolved to make the beach out of my little lot on a busy avenue in the suburbs. I don't have to board a ship to get that fleeting feeling of adventure and youth--I feel it every day at about 3p when I hear a truck pull in the driveway. I will seek God and choose to find my fun and rest in my husband.

But, y'all. Those towel animals. Am I right?

[Disclaimer: I am not condemning those who actually enjoy the beach as a vacation. I do challenge you, however, to make sure you actually like it and not just go because you think you should.]

Saturday, October 18, 2014

If You Give a Wife a TV...

I'm eating my words and chowing down on a nice slice of humble pie. I hate to hear I told you so, but...

We recently started Dave Ramsey's 7 Baby Steps to being debt free. Millions of Americans are thousands of dollars in debt. We only have a measly couple thousand (except our home), but our frugal family wants that debt dead and buried. 

MisterKidd and I are already "gazelle intense" with everything we do. Since starting our debt free journey in June, we are well into Baby Step 2. It has taken serious discipline and a lot of saying "no" to ourselves to get here. Along with trying to save money, we've been looking for ways to earn more for our cause, including selling some of our stuff.

Enter: Serious Regret

I was doing a pre-move/debt free purge one day, and I set my sights on the bedroom TV. "It's so decadent to have two televisions," I thought. "We just need to read more books." I had been trying to talk MisterKidd into selling it for some time, but he always insisted that we used the TV more than I thought. We were dangerously close to completing Baby Step 1 at that point. So close we could taste it.

Marriages are made of opposites: a spender and a saver; a nerd and a cool kid; an introvert and an extrovert; a pack rat and a purger. I'm definitely the purger in my household, so I'm usually the one who goes on the selling sprees. Because we were trying to live like no one else, he finally agreed, and I posted it online that day. 

I sold it for way less than I wanted, way less than it was worth, but more than I had before I started. And then I felt the sting.

I'm not a TV junkie by any means. Some days (when I'm not postpartum and trying to keep a toddler occupied), it doesn't even get turned on. But I like to see a few Gilmore Girls episodes when I'm folding mountains of clean laundry on my bed. And I have a few "sick movies" that work better than any prescription ever could.

I sheepishly admitted my regret to MisterKidd, and he was very gracious (Ahem. "I knew you'd miss it!"). 

So the lesson I've learned is that there's a difference in having a 60 in TV in every room of your house and sitting huddled in the dark with no creature comforts in the name of being debt free. The balance is a tiny little TV in the bedroom. 

But if you give a wife a TV, she'll need a DVD player to go with it. Because I sold that, too. 

Tuesday Tidbits 10/7



It's Not Tuesday

Tuesday came and went this week without a new post here on Beautiful Functional. I'd like to say it was because I was busy all day doing something exciting. That's not true. I also didn't have any kind of emergency in my household.

It's not that I was too lazy to write. It's not that I was uninspired. I was even ready to reveal Tuesday Tidbits' new graphic that I created using Canva.

This week's Tuesday Tidbits is going up on Thursday because on Tuesday during "writing time," I was holding a sleeping baby. Baby Sister is going through an I-need-Mom-all-the-time-or-I-will-whine phase. And really, y'all, who would rather stare at a computer than try to burn that smooth, sweet face into their memory for all of eternity? Not this mama.

This is why I don't put on makeup. 

Is Scentsy wax toxic? Asking for a friend. A short, curly-haired, Frozen-loving friend. 

I spend tons of money on teething helps. Toys to chew on, pain relieving medicines, organic tablets, jewelry forged in the fires of Mordor, even an expensive giraffe, who recently released a series of novels. What helps when nothing else will? A good, clean knuckle. 

Blog Fun, Part 4

I've been highlighting a few of my favorite blogs on Tuesday Tidbits for the last several weeks. This week, it's Carisa from 1+1+1=1.

This site is a recent find, but it has quickly become a must-read for my homeschool planning. Carisa is a former Kindergarten teacher turned homeschool mom, and she blogs about what works for her family. She originally coined the phrase "Tot School" for kiddos who are too young for traditional Pre K materials. Because I'm overzealous and ready to get some structured fun time in with Big Girl, I've been looking for direction on where to begin with "under 3's." There are literally thousands of pages of content with ideas for materials and activities that are developmentally appropriate from birth to 3 (and beyond).

Signing up for her newsletter gets you the download link for her eBook, Where to Begin with Tot School, for those of you who, like me, get overwhelmed and excited like a puppy that has company (ha).




Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Tuesday Tidbits 10/14


Bargain Braggin'

I got a sweet deal today at Mom's Mecca. It was posted on Facebook by Money Saving Mom. Readers often share their bargains, and MSM passes them on to other readers through social media. It's a long one, so stay with me...

Target Brand (Up & Up) diapers are originally $28.99 per box. This week, they are on sale for $24.99 each. If you buy 2 boxes, you get a $10 Target gift card. There is a digital coupon circulating for $10 off a $40 purchase of Up & Up products. The Cartwheel App had a scan for 10% off Up & Up products. I have a Target RedCard, which gives me 5% off my purchase when I use it to pay. 

So with all of the discounts, I was able to get 316 diapers for $35 (including tax) and a $10 gift card. I pretty much got 2 boxes of diapers for $25. And with two in dipes, those will last me HOURS. (I kid. Maybe a couple days.)

MisterKidd says that it's not really a bargain if you get a gift card back because they're still getting your money. But he just doesn't know Target like I do. He doesn't understand the intricacies of my relationship. Target wouldn't cheat me like that. Target cares about me.

Villains

Stories, retellings, and parables in scripture often feature a hero and a villain. A deceiver and the deceived. Somebody who behaves as God would have him and somebody who doesn't. But before we label the characters, we have to check ourselves. 

My church is about to start a book in our community groups called "Ministries of Mercy" by Tim Keller. We are evangelically minded and hope to share Christ through compassion, and our leaders felt that this book would help us with the practical aspects of that goal. 

I started this book on Sunday and made it through the prologue with only about 85% of it highlighted. It was that good. 

Keller uses the parable of the Good Samaritan on the Jericho road (Luke 10:25-37) to set the stage for explaining what Christ thinks about mercy. I am always amazed at myself when studying these kinds of passages. When I first read, I think,"Ugh. A priest and a Levite, of course. Holier than thou. No time to stop by and help a brother out, even if he is bleeding from the head." And just like always, I start to find a little of myself in those who disobey the commands to love The Lord with everything you have and to love your neighbor as yourself. 

Keller's warning is that "we should not be too quick to scorn these men, or we may discover we are convicting ourselves." The Jericho road was a dangerous one. It was nicknamed "the bloody way," and for very good reasons: not only was it steep and rocky, but because of the twists and turns, it was common for ne'er-do-wells to hide, attack, and rob passers-by. This is what happened to the man lying in his blood. 

I can imagine the thoughts of the priest and the Levite. "Whoa. That dude is mangled. Where there's smoke, there's fire. I'm outta here, but I'll let somebody know he's here. That's good enough."

And I can't say that I'd be any different. 

What is in our hearts in situations like this one? Self-preservation. The fact that "self" might be harmed, or at the very least, made to feel uncomfortable. If loving your neighbor as yourself means giving your neighbor the kind of care and attention you would hope for yourself, how can we possibly leave a man in his blood?

There is so much GOSPEL in this parable. God saw you in your blood and said, "LIVE!" (Ezekiel 16:6) if you are His. And He sent Christ to bandage your wounds and take you to safety. Ultimate compassion was shown to you, and your responsibility is to "go and do likewise." (Luke 10:37)

But how should I apply this to myself, today? I don't know. I've only read the prologue.

Blog Fun, Part 5

This week, I'm featuring Matt and Betsy from DIYNatural

DIYNatural is my personal authority for natural living. They have articles for almost every topic imaginable: remedies for colds and other illnesses, natural cleaners, organic gardening and eating, frugal finances, and so much more. One thing I really appreciate is that Matt and Betsy test everything before they post about it. Each recipe is perfected and experts are consulted before they present content to the public. Thanks for being guinea pigs, Matt and Betsy.

This site is a great place to start for those just beginning their natural journey and for people like me, who hang out at the starting line for five some years.

Next week will be the final Blog Fun Tidbit, and it will knock your socks off.
Hint: my food hero. Not Mom, but the other one.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Tuesday Tidbits 9/30

A Major Holiday

Yesterday was National Coffee Day, and I celebrated like I never have before (because I never have before). My record for the day: 3 cups in my "coffee bowl," 3 spoons of sugar, 2 drops of Pumpkin Spice Creamer, and 4 zaps in the microwave (true mom status).

I have coffee in my blood. My dad drinks at least one pot a day every day, even in the middle of summer.  I learned to brew a nice pot of Folgers when I was knee high to a grasshopper (oops, my country is showing).

So when I saw National Coffee Day trending on Twitter, it got me thinking about all the things I love about the black gold.
  • Coffee has the best nicknames. Java, brew, cuppa, go juice, jolt, mud, et al.
  • Coffee makes you get up and go. It may be mental (although the withdrawal headaches suggest that it isn't), but I feel like I could conquer the world after my morning cup(s), or at least conquer the Monday. I've heard Plexus Slim has the same effect, but coffee is much cheaper, and we're tryna be debt-free, y'all. 
  • Coffee is like a woman. No matter how you dress her, she's always a woman to Billy Joel. There's a coffee for every taste. Latte, cappuchino, triple shot, sugar, whipped cream, mocha, caramel, frozen, iced, black, never ending possibilities, with or without a fantastic cookie to dip. If you don't like coffee, you haven't tried hard enough. 
I've been thinking about wishing for a Keurig. Pros/Cons for daily drinkers?

Put not your trust in football. 

With all the things I love about Fall, there are some that are not at the top of my list. One bandwagon that I could never get on is football. 

I grew up in a small town with a small school. It was so small that we didn't have a football team, so no Friday Night Lights for me.  My dad was not particularly into sports, so we didn't spend every weekend and major holiday watching ESPN. He was too busy cleaning deer to watch football. I married a football fan, but we abstain from cable, so I've missed out there, too. In conclusion, I've had no reason to make sports a part of my life. 

I know that many people, however, do not miss a chance to call the hogs. They talk about player stats and game highlights like they were actually on the field. When the team hurts, they feel pain. And then my Facebook news feed feels pain. 

So fans, fair-weather and die-hard, I want to offer this caution as we enter football season: remember that it's just a game, it's just a hobby, it's just a fleeting moment in time, and it is not something to sin over. 

Remember to commit yourself to Christ during this season as earnestly as you do any other time of the year (or more). Don't forsake gathering with the church to gather with your team of choice (in person or in spirit). Where your news feed is, there also is your heart. Don't forget to boast in your Savior rather than a group of students who have talent for a game that pays for their college. Enjoy this season, but don't put your hope in it. 

Are you a superfan? How do you find the balance in enjoying but not abusing your hobby?

Blog Fun, Part 3. 

Next up on my weekly blog roll: Crystal and her posse from Money Saving Mom.

As the title suggests, this site has saved me tons of money. What started as the small blog of a homeschooling mom has grown into a huge business for Crystal, her husband, and her employees.  She and her group scour the internet for the best deals in grocery, health, and beauty.  There are tons of articles on shopping, meal planning, stockpiling, couponing, recipes, home management, and home finance. I pretty much eat this website for breakfast.

Some of my favorite content from this site includes:
Check this blog out and watch the dollars roll in, or at least stay warm and safe in your pocket.

Friday, September 26, 2014

I Volunteer as Tribute.

MisterKidd is spending time with his friends tonight (smoke a pipe, talk about Jesus, pound your chest), and there is only one thing on my mind.

Homeschool.

I have voluntarily chosen to be solely responsible for all of the Kidd children's learning endeavors from now until college. I think my head is going to explode from that pressure.

As I have mentioned before, I have a degree in education. I've always wanted to be a teacher.  I didn't just play baby dolls as a little girl; I lined the baby dolls up, gave them worksheets (bad pedagogy, I am now reformed), and took grades. I loved going to school, reading, and doing homework, and I couldn't wait to have my own set of little people to teach. College came, and choosing my major was a non-issue.

At the same time, I knew God was calling me to stay home with my then non-existent children. It was always my hope to spend my time managing my home and raising my children (yes, I knew this as a single college freshmen). So I was curious to see how those two dreams would coincide.

Duh.

MisterKidd and I love the idea of child-based education. Not so much, "OK, kids, what do you want to learn today?" But more like tailoring the education to the child, teaching them to be adults in the world with us by letting them be in our world. Teachers are taught in teacher school to teach the child rather than the subject, but that is almost impossible when you have 80 students for only 9 months, then you give them up for another set of 80. There is only so much relationship-building and life-altering that can happen.

The solution was clear. These not-yet-born kiddos would be formally taught at home. I have the education and the resources to make it a great experience. We discerned that this was God's plan for our family. Then, God gave us the family.

With Big Girl's 2nd birthday approaching, I am dipping my toe in the water of teaching her some skills that are more academic. I have been researching online, asking friends who homeschool or plan to, and praying (a lot), but this is flashing in my mind like a big, gaudy neon sign:

I AM NOT EQUIPT AND WILL NOT SUCCEED IN TEACHING MY CHILDREN.

Internal Rant: What did I sign up for? I can't teach them everything they need to know BY MYSELF in only 18 years. It took about 50 people to teach me all the things I learned. I have a degree in Mid-Level Education, like 9-14 year olds. Maybe I should get some kids that are 10 and teach them how to construct a paragraph. How can I teach these babies how to read??? Why didn't I major in Early Childhood and then just wing it after elementary til they went to college? That would have been more streamlined. And there is so much information out there. What's crap? What's gold? What should I buy? What should I make? What am I going to use all those toilet paper rolls I've been saving for???

*Sigh*

But then I remember that Big Girl knows "A." And the other day, she made a mark on the magnadoodle that kinda looked like an "A" and called it an "A." I can do this. I taught her "A," and I'll teach her more letters, and colors, and numbers, and with prayer and patience, we will complete this fabulous journey that I am 100% called to and on my way to being equipped for. It will be hard and confusing and amazing to mark all over these blank slates that God has entrusted to me.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Tuesday Tidbits 9/23

Fa-La-La-La-Fall

It's the most wonderful time of the year.  Today is the first day of FALL. Leaves, pumpkin spice coffee creamer, candles that smell like baked goods, and thermometers that say, "Grab a sweater, Brianna."

I've been reading the "extended forecast" to MisterKidd everyday for the past few weeks, and we rejoice over each cool front. This was our conversation yesterday:

B: High of 78 today and tomorrow! And tomorrow's the first day of Fall!
MK: Yesssss. You know God made this time of year for us, right? He said, "Here you go, Kidd family."

*Swoon.* Soulmates.

Another fantastic thing has happened this week, and it's only Tuesday. I got fluff mail yesterday. It's when the mail person plays ding-dong-ditch at my front door, and there's a box of goodies on my stoop.

This particular parcel was full of seasonal treats. I am very fond of Christmas (ask anyone). The theme of this fluff mail has got the Frank Sinatra blaring at my house. These diapers are so cute, I may not even let my littles pee in them.

Fluff Mail
Yeah, those are owls in top hats and scarves. Can you die from cuteness?

It's not humility.

I've been thinking about this concept lately. I don't have it fully formed, but I got an inkling that I need to ponder.

I have been noticing the confusion of self-deprecation and humility in the church. There is a difference in putting yourself down and putting the focus off yourself. The line is getting blurred, particularly among Christian women. We don't appear more humble by highlighting our own flaws at every turn or tearing down our own character. This is the opposite, in fact.

Humility is thinking of yourself less rather than thinking of yourself poorly or not at all. In aiming to be humble through self-deprecation, we actually think of ourselves more as we strive to tear ourselves down for the sake of others.

MisterKidd asked me to put Philippians 2:3 on our chalk board so we could think on this verse for a few weeks, and it fits perfectly with what I've been thinking lately. "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others as more significant than yourselves." 

There is no loophole from conceit to meekness, or from self-centeredness to humility; there is only the remembrance that we are God's treasured possessions, made in His image, and we are called to consider others more and first if we are His.

Blog Fun, Part 2

This week's blog highlight is Emily at The Anderson Crew.  She is a SAHM of six kiddos ages 2 to 10.

I've been following this one for a couple years. I think I originally came across it on Pinterest. At that time, she and her husband were in the process of adopting a little girl from Ethopia, so it was awesome to follow their adoption journey as it was happening.

A lot of her posts are about daily family stuff, her use of Young Living EOs, and the women's ministry she and some of her friends started (Flourish).

It doesn't hurt that she has awesome style, and her home is that bright white DIY with pops of color that I love.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

I don't know about you, but I'm feeling Twenty-Four

It's loud here at night. Not loud like it is at our new house on the corner of Train Tracks and Busy Avenue. The loud is quieter: bugs, cows, the occasional car, maybe a coyote or two, and the train way off in the distance.

I'm home. Maybe not "this is my address, where my clothes hang in the closet and I have full decorating say," but "memory" home, where they loaned me a room for a couple decades and trained me to be a grown-up. 

What better place is there to celebrate my birthday?

MisterKidd coordinated with my mom for a birthday weekend. We loaded up our kiddos and headed to the country for two full days of "Whatever you want, Brianna." It was magical. 

On Friday, I spent most of the day in my pajamas, catching up on episodes of "The Pioneer Woman Cooks" that my mom had DVR'd for me. We also got to meet Daniel Tiger's new baby sister, Margaret. (No, I'm not kidding. MisterKidd and I were more excited than Big Girl to catch this episode.)

The evening was spent at one of our favorite places. We eat at this restaurant for almost every major holiday. Endless shrimp, Sangria, cheddar biscuits, good conversation, and my best friend. 


We love this place. We love the food, the live lobsters, the expensive bill. We usually love the Seafood Specialists, but this time, we were disappointed.

MisterKidd and I both have a past waiting tables (it's actually a part of his "present"). When we're at restaurants, we are simultaneously more gracious because we know how hard it is and less forgiving because we know what it takes to give great service. Our poor server was just not good. It started with her taking our order with another table's dirty dishes on the tray beside her and ended with her coming by our table three times after our dishes were already cleared, promising she'd "be right back with the check." We felt so sorry for her. 

Our delay caused us to be an hour late for the mall. We spent about an hour shopping before the stores started to close, which reminded us of our slow, sad service. But I got some sweet threads at the only store in the mall that didn't close at 9pm, Mom's Mecca. 

The next day, on my actual birthday, my mom, my big sister, and I went to lunch. Alone. Without kids. We love our kids, but it was a blast to just talk about grown-up stuff (so grown-up of me to notice). We got some fall scented goodness at Bath and Body Works and Strawberry Shortcakes from a local fav on the way home. 

Birthday weekend: Success.

Now that I'm a mama, I have a new view of birthdays. The only thing I want to do on my birthday these days is hang out with the lady that made it happen (and maybe the dude that helped). That day means something totally different to her than it does for everyone else. It's the anniversary of the day that she did a great and totally selfless work for me, the first of many.

Happy 24th Birthday, Mom. 




Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Tuesday Tidbits 9/16

Dream Clean

I've been wanting one of these since my big girl started eating solids. After every meal and snack, you can find me on the floor with a wet rag, mopping up the crumbs, drips of drink, and hunks of food that did not make it into Big Girl's tummy. 

Kids learn by repetition. So I caught Big Girl doing this one day:


I was simultaneously proud of her mad cleaning skills and completely scared to death that my life is the one she's watching while she's building her own life. 

Those days are over, my friend. Over. I made a purchase yesterday at Mom's Mecca (Target) that will change my days for the better. 


Bam.

Sanctification, by God. 

The struggles and joys of the SAHM life are innumerable. Love: spending my days with my sweet kiddos, watching them learn, and pouring into them the love of Jesus. Un-love: diapers, crying, and no time for myself. Comme ci, comme ca. 

All of this, along with the fact that he totally floats my boat, makes me really look forward to MisterKidd's arrival in the afternoons, so much that we have fallen into a pattern of "he comes home right after work no matter what." I'm not trying to be a dictator, and to my knowledge, he doesn't feel oppressed. But I've noticed it lately, and it's been bugging me. 

So God started doing what He does best. I've been chatting with Him about this feeling, and we've come to the conclusion that I need to be more gracious with MisterKidd's time. Like, not helping him manage every second. 

Taking care of littles is hard, but we're in this together, so I want to be flexible with him and supportive of his free time and hobbies, as he tries to do the same for me. We're parents, but we're also people. People that might snap if they can't just run to Lowe's to get a screw for their bow. 

Blog Fun, Part 1

I have a few favorite blogs that I've collected over the past few years. These are real women (sorry, guys) that post their lives on the internet, and I have fun keeping updated on their DIY projects, trips to the zoo with their large family, money saving strategies, holistic health tips, homeschool ideas, and delicious food. Incidentally, all of these women are believers, so I get a good dose of Jesus when I check in once a week when the stars and the nap times align. 

Over the next several weeks, I'll link to my favorite blogs on my Tuesday Tidbits post so my four or five readers can check them out. 

Up first, Kelly at View Along the Way.

If anyone wants to sneak into my house and make it over to look exactly like hers, feel free. She has awesome style; everything is so white and crisp, with pops of color, yard sale finds, and outgoing DIY flare. Her voice is so fun and playful. 

Bonus: She cloth diapers her kids, and she and her husband paid off their house in 5 years while following Dave Ramsey's principles for money management. As a new homeowner, this is serious inspiration!

Check out her blog, and let me know when you're coming by to paint so I can casually run out for errands.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Tuesday Tidbits

It's not me, it's the Crock Pot.

I have this Crock Pot. I use it because I'm a SAHM and I'm supposed to. My food is not always good. 

I try recipes from cheap cookbooks, recipes from nice cookbooks, recipes from my hero, PW, recipes from my other hero, Mom, and recipes from the internet. 

Oven food: good. Stovetop food: good. Microwave food: good. Crock Pot food: sometimes good. 

Why, Crock Pot, why? I will admit, I take some liberties with my food. I don't set a timer. I leave out and/or substitute ingredients. I loosely follow recipes. But why are my Crock Pot meals mediocre?

As I stared into the Crock Pot watching my Shredded Tex Mex Chicken cook too fast (yet again), this thought popped up like a whack-a-mole: it's not me. It's the Crock Pot. 

Who has one they love? Sell me, sister. 


Mom Porn is still Porn.

I'm going to say this, and all the feelings are going to happen. Anger, apathy, agreement, plus some that don't start with an "a" and will throw off my alliteration. 

"50 Shades of Grey" is not literature. It's pornagraphy in a neat, socially acceptable package. It might be marketed along with other New York Times best sellers, but it truly does promote sexual abuse and devalue women. 

I was working on my Swagbucks videos to earn some dollars (ok, not so much watching as letting them play. I confess.) I picked up my phone and caught a glimpse of a movie trailer. I don't remember what drew my attention, but I finished the video. What I saw made my stomach turn. This is not a picture of a healthy sexual relationship between a woman and her husband. 

"But have you read it? The book is always different than the movie."

No, but the book jacket tells me it's not something I want to hide in my heart. I remember everything I've ever read. Literally. I also have a great imagination. If I did read it, even just to review it, it would still affect me. Something that has the potential to alter my worldview and my relationship with my husband so greatly doesn't need to be in my mind. (For more info on how this could happen from reading a book, email me.)

"I can read it and still not agree with it. We read for entertainment."

Both of those statements are true. I am a Harry Potter fan from way back, but I'm not hanging out in my bedroom practicing magic. MisterKidd and I have discussed this concept over and over in regards to our kids. What can be redeemed through discussion, and what should be rejected entirely? 

The difference is in the heart of the characters. That's what we take with us after we close the book. Harry Potter's heart is for his friends and family. His choices reflect a servant who regularly makes sacrifices for the people he loves. Is he perfect? No. But I can share the Gospel with my kids through that fact. Christ is THE sinless savior, and he really lives. From what I know of the main character of "50 Shades of Grey," his choices are those of an abuser. The theme of the story tells our hearts that it's desirable to be taken advantage of and manipulated. 

Phillipians 4:8 tells us to fill our minds with things that build us up and bring us closer to God. Reflect on this, Christian women, when you consider what to use for entertainment. 

Head over to the Gospel Coalition for an actual review of the book. 



...of whom I am chief.

This article. Moms, stop taking yourself so seriously. Laugh at yourself, and learn from veterans, too, not just peers. 

Monday, September 1, 2014

Pride and Prejudice and Parenting

As the good book says, "money is the root of all evil."  Well I say, we can often substitute "pride" for "money." Just call me Tevye. As much as I hate pride and see it as one of the most off-putting characteristics, I am guilty of it (of course).

I'm prideful about my marriage. I'm prideful about my education. I'm prideful about some of the choices I've made in my adult life. Recently, I am most prideful about my decisions in parenting. 

I have mentioned some of my greenish, semi-crunchy tendencies. Most of the green choices MisterKidd and I make are related to parenting. Our choices are carefully thought out, economical, and, more often than not, against the current social norms. Our "try hard" family waves them as a brightly colored banner high above your head. 

Enter: pride. 

When we were planning to start our family and living off MisterKidd's IHOP income while I was in college, we began researching ways to spend less when raising children. Everyone knows the biggest expense is diapers. So our first introduction into this crunchy lifestyle was discovering modern cloth diapers. 

"We can buy 20 diapers and wash them every day and it will SAVE US HOW MUCH MONEY?"

Newly married. Poor. Idealistic. We were sold. 

40+ diapers, several stints in disposables, many wash routine troubles, and two babies later, we are still loving our fluffy bottoms and the money it keeps in our budget and out of Pampers' wallet. 

We are ALL into this cloth diapering business, advocating (tactfully, of course) when we can and finding comraderie with others that choose cloth. However, it has been a bit of a learning curve with our extended families, who either used disposables exclusively or are more familiar with old school flats. And my try hard-ness makes me stubborn and defensive when it comes to decisions that I've made outside the norm. 

I recently took a road trip with my parents (sans MisterKidd), the first one ever with my girls. Road tripping with two under two is no easy task no matter how much help you have, especially without my duck dynasty look alike, who knows our routines well. And I was determined to use cloth on the trip. I am comfortable using it. No, it's not a hindrance. Yes, we will have to stop more, but that's just how it is. I. Will. Not. Bend. 

We were not even 45 minutes from home on our 9 hour drive when the first leak happened, as they often do in the car seat (hey, I never said cloth diapering was without it's struggles). 

Brianna's Three Second Internal Monologue:

"Ugh. Why is this happening? I double stuffed the pocket. I used bamboo because it's extra absorbent. Now they willl continue to think cloth diapers suck. It's up to me to advocate for the entire cloth diapering community, and I've let them all down. I have so much to prove. But 9 hours of stopping every 45 minutes equals...way more than 9 hours. Plus we will have to stop so I can nurse Baby Sister. Ok, fine."

You see, my try hard family is also a super logical family. Seriously, if logical thinking were an Olympic sport, MisterKidd could fill the bathtub with gold medals. 

It didn't make sense to stop that often, deal with the leaks that were bound to happen, and tbh, I didn't want to have to wash and care for my dipes on vacation.

I let go of some pride and got diapers that would be used once and then thrown in the trash. And it was so freeing. Not because I truly hate CD's or because I secretly wish we bought disposables regularly, but because I was making the best decision for my kiddos in that situation and letting go of my pride. Nobody wants wet pants for 9 hours straight. 

A few days later (after an incident in which two different tables were rude to me at a restaurant for having a crying baby and breastfeeding said baby) my mom dropped this little nugget of wisdom: 

"You don't have enough time to stand up to everybody. You are too busy raising kids."

That was it. I will stick this in my pocket for whenever I get fired up about breastfeeding and delayed cord clamping. Do I think these decisions are best for my children (and yours)? Yes. Is it the end of the world if you don't and I do? Not in the slightest. Do I have to personally school every rude old lady on why breastfeeding should be normalized? No. I just want to feed my kids, diaper their bottoms, and teach them to be adults in the world with me. Just like most everybody else. 

(This post was supposed to be called...) Justification for Sin, Brought to you by the Internet

I was on Facebook before bed last night, just a-scrollin', when I came across an article from Huffington post called "Dear Mom on the iPhone: You're Doing Fine." 
http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/5648388 
Above the link was a picture of a mom on a park bench.  The photo was taken from behind, but the posture of a woman looking down at her phone was unmistakable. 

A quick glance at this title and this picture was all it took for me to get that twinge of annoyance, and I felt myself begin to climb onto my soap box.

I have many soap boxes, or "hills to die on," which is a common symptom of being part of a try hard family. This particular box is called "Dear Internet: Stop building comraderie amongst those who fall into a certain sin and giving them fuel for the justification of said sin in their lives through touching blog posts."

When I saw that title and that picture, I was reminded of the time we took our big girl to the park with a new, shiny, red ball. [Note: do not take toys to the park that you do not expect to share with random children.] Not five minutes after arriving, a little boy zoomed by and tried to slap the ball out of my hands. I was shocked! The callousness of this five year old! Where was his mother? On her phone. Smh (retroactively). Later, this same child caught the ball mid-throw and ran from MisterKidd as he asked for it back. Mother's location and status: bench, phone.

This open letter to moms on phones at parks reminded me of that experience and my annoyance with mothers (and fathers) who aren't intentional with their children. A day at the park is the perfect opportunity to connect with your little ones and make memories. This mom was squandering an opportunity to hang out with her bad little boy. 

Furthermore, I was frustrated with the fact that the Internet has become a place where misery can find all sorts of company and one wrong man can find a whole host of friends. After reading this article, that mom on the phone at the park will feel justified in her actions and never repent of this nasty neglect. 

So I reached the top of my box, chest out, shoulders back, nose high in the air, and typed this title for my blog post:

Justification for Sin, Brought to you by the Internet

And then I thought, "I'll read the article, just for kicks."

[insert embarrassed emoji here]

The premise of the article was "don't judge the mom on the phone." Basically, it was another valiant effort in the campaign against the "mommy wars," which are true and real and lie deep inside all of us mommies. 

This mom could have been working, checking in with a friend, or just getting a brain break with a few levels of Candy Crush. She could have been doing the "Watch this, Mommy!" dance all morning and just needed a minute while her kiddo played. 

Chest deflated, shoulders slumped, head hung, I'm climbing down from this box and onto another, a more beneficial and necessary box called, "Be humble, show grace, and stop being mean because parenting is so hard."

So here's my own little note to that mom whose little boy was terrorizing us at the park:

Dear Mom of Bad Little Boy,

Happy Saturday.  Kudos for taking your kid to get some fresh air. He's been in the classroom all week and needed to release some energy. You work hard, too, and it's good to get out of the house together. 

I know you're working on manners right now. Just like any other skill we teach our kids, it's so hard to stay on top of. It seems like every moment is another opportunity to teach, none can slip by, and you can't find a minute to rest your mind when you're together, or all consistency will fly out the window.

I'm sorry I didn't offer to let him play ball with us. I'm sorry I didn't go over to chat with you while our kids played together. I'm sorry I judged your entire family from one hour at the park.

I don't know your journey or your struggles because I didn't ask. You are probably trying hard, just like me. 


"And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak,

be patient with them all."

1 Thessalonians 5:14


Have you ever had an "I'm better than you" moment and later got a serious wake up call? Tell me about it in the comments.


Longing for Egypt

I have always wanted the American Dream. House, yard, dog, 2.5 children, home-cooked meals, BBQ grill, and an adoring husband. A plain ol' American life. I went through a radical phase when I really resented that scenario, but the longing was always there. 

Here I am with a check in a few of those boxes, my pen poised over the box beside "house," and I have the strongest desire to toss the pen and rip up the checklist. 

I don't want to get into the woes of the home buying process. I don't want to share the details of the hardships unique to our situation. I don't want to complain about the struggles of packing and moving with 2 under 2. 

What I want to do is to share is a comparison between myself and a group of people who lived thousands of years ago. 

The Lord chose these people and promised His care and protection for them, just as He has for me. He heard their cries for help as they suffered under a fierce oppressor. He laid the foundation for their departure, allowed them to be released, and then delivered them to safety. But the difficulties of their journey had just begun. 

The land God had promised them still had to be won in more ways than one. They had to live uncomfortably for it, starve for it, and follow a leader with seemingly half-baked plans. They had to fight for it (literally). But God made their paths straight and caused them to overcome each obstacle, even when their faith in Him wavered. 

These people are just like me

I have been delivered from the slavery of renting my home, paying month to month for my place of residence, and investing in nothing but my landlord's pocket. I have crossed through the Red Sea of the home buying process on a prayer with no down payment, no money for closing costs, and only a small emergency fund in savings. I was faithful when The Lord said, "I have come down to deliver [you] out of the hand of the Egyptians and to bring [you] up out of the land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the place of [many 'ites']." (Exodus 3:8)

I listened when he said "pursue this home." I followed. 

Now, here I am in the wilderness of a bug problem, bad carpets, and no air conditioning. This promised land is looking pretty grim and there are some giants in these parts that are greater and taller than I am. My manna is a government grant for the down payment, but even that process is drawing out the closing to oblivion (aka, "would that I could sit by the meat pots and die at the hand of The Lord in Egypt" [Exodus 16:3]).

I'm weary. I'm grumbling. I've set up camp in the wilderness of Sin. I'm about one more catastrophe away from striking the rock rather than speaking to it. 

BUT GOD is so faithful. Unlike the Israelites, I am sitting on the other side of Christ's atonement for my faithlessness. I have a savior who has suffered infinitely more than I can imagine, and my quest for the mundane, easy life of the typical American is in vain. I was called out of Egypt personally. By taking His hand and taking that first step off Egyptian soil, I agreed to allow myself to be delivered under any circumstances and to trust God in His promise for a better life. 

My home isn't beautiful yet, and It's only slightly functioning. However, it is part of my sanctification, the process by which I am stripped of myself and made to look more like Christ. 



[Descriptions and Analogies from Exodus, Deuteronomy]

What to Expect When You're Expecting (...a new post from me)

Many moons ago, when I first started reading blogs, I came across a post from Shalom Mama about home organization. The concept was based on a quote that I can't quote (I also can't find her post, but you're welcome to try). Paraphrase: If it isn't beautiful or functional, get rid of it.

If the item isn't pleasant to look at, useful in daily life, or both, it doesn't have a place in your house. This really stuck with me, and that's what my posts will be about.  Beautiful, functional things.


Implied Reader Question: "What does that mean? Will you just be writing about your stainless steel toaster all the time?"

No, dear reader. Here me out.


What to Expect When You're Expecting (...a post from me)

1 Family: 

As a SAHM, it's obvious that I'm passionate about my family. I am inordinately obsessed with my husband, so posts about marriage and my interactions with the bearded wonder (MisterKidd) will appear. 

This mom job is serious business. These tiny people bring me so much joy, but raising them is a mind-boggling process. I will likely include some fun anecdotes from daily life with them (maybe a birth story or two, if you're into that sort of thing), but you won't hear much about them as people. I'm not trying to be mysterious, but I don't want them to have Internet identities until they are old enough to manage them.

2 "Greenish" Living:

Turquoise. Mint. Robin's Egg. Colors that are green if you stare at them hard enough. That's where I'm at in my green journey. I'll call it "greenish."  I birth naturally, breastfeed, cloth diaper, babywear, and follow a loose baby led weaning process, but I consider myself a Jane-of-all-trades, master-of-none in these areas. I can kick it with the medicated-birthing, formula feeding, 'sposie using, Gerber-feeding mamas just as easily. I buy mostly whole foods for my family, but MisterKidd and I totally had Hardee's for dinner after the kiddos went to bed last night. I make my own laundry soap but buy commercial in other areas. So whether you're Neon Green, "greenish" (like me), or totally black, surely you can find something to relate to here.

My nightstand while fighting one case of silent reflux with nasal congestion, one fever rash, two viruses, and a myriad of emerging teeth. 50% OTC, 50% natural. Plus a copy of HP1, to keep me grounded and sane. 

3 Intentional Living:

Whatever we're into as a family is done at 100%. If our family had a motto, it would be "try hard." Reflecting on what we're doing and figuring out ways to make it better is a past time for MisterKidd and me. Many of our more "greenish" and economical choices have started with a statement like this: "We could save soooo much money if we..."

You might see posts about meal planning, freezer cooking, daily schedules, our new friend, Dave Ramsey,  DIY projects, and other endeavors to make the best use of our time during these evil days (Ephesians 5:16).

4 Jesus:

Above all else, I am free from sin and a slave to Christ. All of my posts will be driven by the fact that my life is not my own, and my time is spent in an effort to bring glory to God. 

This will not primarily be a blog about theology, but because my theology infiltrates my life, it will definitely come up, especially because we are a ministry family--MisterKidd is on the elder team of a church plant and works for a Christian non-profit. (That's right, SAHM and pastor's wife. Can I be any more cliche?)  A lot of my daily life includes ministering to the forgotten alongside my husband in our "city of churches," so expect posts about how my faith informs my daily life.


This blog will feature posts on anything and everything in my life that has beauty and function. I hope to live purposefully, reflectively, and intentionally, and I want to share my journey on this little corner of the Internet. 

Brianna

3 Reasons Why I Joined the Blogosphere

I have a love/hate thing going on with social media. Most of the time, it's hate, with a secret addiction to all things facebooktwitterpinterestblogs, a little buzzfeedinstragramtumblergoogle+ and recently, snapchat (thanks, niece).

I'm so hip.  Can I even say "hip?"

I tend to overuse these information-sharing platforms for a while, notice it, grow resentful for their prominence, fast from them, miss them, and then make up, promising to use and not abuse.  
Then the cycle begins again.

Because of this, I have put off starting this blog for years. Years. But big changes have come to my household, in the form of ILANDEDMYDREAMJOB. 

Great hours (from 6am to 8pm, with overtime available at night)
Great pay (room and board)
Use of my Bachelor's degree
A very attractive superior admin. 
Fun co-workers

Yep, I'm a stay-at-home-mom. A housewife. A bon-bon eating, pajama wearing, "you missed a spot over there, maid" mama of two littles. The SAHM life isn't for everyone, but it's the right choice for my family. I was dreaming about this season while filling out college applications in 2000 something. I'm here (home) and lovin' it.

Implied Reader Question: "What does social media have to do with you being a SAHM?"

Good question, implied reader. Along with being a social media hater and SAHM, I am also a teacher by trade who loves deadlines, getting up early to go to school/work, reading for fun, and instructing tiny humans. Enter: my sweet new blog.

Let's get a little more specific. Here are

3 Reasons Why I Joined the Blogosphere:

Act I, Scene I: Freshman year of college, Comp I.
Characters: 18 year old me, my friend Micah, my friend Jack, Dr. *******, and various others.
This class was basically to clean up your writing to get you ready for the rest of your college career. I had never had any trouble with writing and had taken AP classes in HS blah blah blah. That was 6+ years ago. Back to the story. One day after class, the prof called me to her desk. We had just gotten papers back, so I assumed it was about that.  I was right.

Prof: B, where did you go to high school?
Me: BHS *mumble mumble, shy 18 yo*
Prof: I was just asking because you're a really good writer.

HOLYWOW. This woman had a PhD, and she thought I was a good writer. My 18 yo self clung to that complement for a while forever.

Fast forward to 2014.  This memory gives me a semblance of confidence that I will be semi-successful at this blogging mess. What is successful blogging anyway?

I have a passion for learning. My biggest, tallest soap box is the public school system in the US. I get a rush of excitement when entering a library (allthesebooksarefree). I started planning for homeschool when my biggest little was in utero.

But right now, I'm not working outside my home and my littles are too little for formal education beyond "what does the cow say?"  Last Thursday marked six months of being home full-time, and my brain is feeling a little mushy. I feel like writing on a regular basis will beef my brain back up, help me set some beloved deadlines, and allow me to have a creative outlet in between episodes of Little Bill and Daniel Tiger.

I love reading old twitter and facebook posts and scrolling through the camera roll on my phone, looking back at where I've been. My blog will be a more organized and efficient way to chronicle my mundane, lovely life.



Even if I'm boring, even if I only post once a month, even if I only have one reader (I know I'll have at least that; MisterKidd is my biggest fan), I'll write knowing that I'm fulfilling these three reasons.

Welcome to Beautiful Functional.


Brianna