Lesson(s) Learned

I remember when I was in elementary school that "your momma" jokes were a big thing. They often went something like this... "Your momma.....(fill in the blank with something juvenile-yet-offensive about that person's momma)" The next kid replies, "oh yeah, well, your momma...(fill in the blank with something equally as juvenile about that person'a momma)" And then the crowd surrounding the two kids would all be like, "OOOOO!" And well, that was about the end of it. So yeah. "Your momma" jokes were probably the most juvenile thing since the cootie shot, but for some reason, school-kids thought it was cool - unless they were referring to your momma, of course. So it makes me wonder, Why were "your momma" jokes even a thing? Like, why wasn't it "your daddy" jokes? Perhaps, it's because if someone made fun of our daddy's, we'd just be like "yeah that's not true, my dad can beat u...

Have you ever sat back and wondered, why is it called 'motherhood'? When I think of the word 'motherhood,' the only other word that readily comes to the top of my mind is 'neighborhood.' So what it is? Simply put, a neighborhood is a collection of neighbors all together. (Unless it's a neighborhood where the people are not-so-neighborly, then it's just more affectionately referred to as the 'hood. If you ever find yourself there, I have some advice: Proceed (ever-so-swiftly) with caution, girl.) I digress. If a neighborhood is simply a collection of neighbors, then why isn't motherhood a collection of mothers all together? And if it is supposed to be a collection of mothers all together, then why does it feel less neighborly than we possibly hoped or imagined, and it feels more like trying to survive a day in the 'hood? (Be serious. You know it sometimes does feel that way.) And all of this non-neighborly motherhood business starts day ...

So, it's been an incredibly long time since I've written anything. Most of the time, I'm busy with regular stay-at-home-mommy to-do lists, a silly amount of craft attempts, and two toddlers. I've often used this as my excuse for not "making time" to write. Oh. so. often. Oftentimes and very lately, I haven't written any blogs because I've briefly thought (and maybe even truly believed) that I had nothing to say, or at least, next to nothing interesting to say. Unless you want me to quote something from Daniel Tiger (or worse, Clifford), break out in  a word-for-word verbatim of a Disney song (almost. any. Disney. song.), give you a total count of laundry loads I've mastered or the amount of sibling-fights I've broken up, there's really not much left of major "report" to my days. I'm in no way demeaning or belittling the huge responsibility, overall importance, and beautiful gift of God through motherhood. I am, however, ackn...