Happy Birthday. Welcome to Now.

One year ago yesterday, I shared my very first blog post on this site. I actually bought this laptop for the sole purpose of starting this blog.

It wasn’t the first time I had written on the internet; I had a Tumblr account that I piddled with once-upon-a-time. But, when this site was born last February, it was different.

I’d been pulled in a direction that led me to write again, but this time, it’d be different. I had recently made the decision to leave my career to stay at home and be a mom. I felt God telling me to be patient and not to worry, but to slow down. I knew I’d have to find ways to make money from home and did a little bit of research on making money through blogging. But that wasn’t what was important to me. I was eager to walk in my truth and tell my story.

I felt called to put my creative gifts and love for communication and passion for inspiring others to the test, creating the ultimate trifecta. Writing gave me life and fulfillment and sprinkled pure joy in my days. (I pray it always will.)

What may come as a surprise, however, is that when I get the urge to write, it stops me in my tracks. My blog post ideas l i t e r a l l y come out of nowhere, and I usually have to stop what I am doing and go write. And the not-so-cool part about it is: I can’t stand writing from my phone or tablet. It MUST be on a laptop or something with keys. That I can aggressively and quickly bang (ask my new co-workers/roommates or darling husband, they will attest to my annoyingly loud typing. Bless them all for their tolerance.) But my point is, I have to get to my computer, dial up my diffuser and get busy. I’m not much of a mobile blogger much at all. Ever, really.

But y’all. I can’t help it. I just get moved to say stuffAll the feels. ALL THE JOY.

When I opened my laptop to pull up WordPress to write this post tonight, I noticed a folder on my desktop that I created a few months ago: “Things That Move Me”.

I only saved one thing in it…

Hugh Laurie

This quote says so much about my journey last year. There was so much uncertainty and many faith-based decisions. I had no idea when I started this blog what it’d lead to. I just figured I’d inconsistently write when I felt the urge. I wrote each post from the heart and was sincerely moved by each opportunity to share my journey with a friend or stranger.

Writing became my safe space. My release. My peace.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that 2,220 people would view my site 3,288 times in 27 countries all over the world in just one year. Goodness gracious, am I grateful.

I’m deeply touched for each blink of an eye that my words sit between. I appreciate each kind remark and comment. It’s been an honor to share my heart with you.

To think about all that’s happened since this blog began brings me back to grace, and gratitude, and awestruck wonder. God’s led me into deeper waters. I never want to feel like I’ve arrived, but I sure do long for more.

If there is one thing I know for sure, it’s that this time of year is just not my best. I battle darkness during this season each year of my life. I’m certain lots of us do. I’m thankful that things like writing and hot yoga and coffee and worship music bring me back to life on tough days.

Here is to Spring being around the corner.  But for now, may we ride the wave of this season together and keep our eyes on what we can’t see. There’s beauty there.

309 Days

Do you know what the word epiphany means? Lots of us have heard it. Used it. But do you r e a l l y know? It’s an experience of sudden and striking realization. When you figure something out, almost always out of thin air, and the thought comes to you that allows you to finally piece together the puzzle.

Was the cup half full? Or was it half empty?

It doesn’t really matter, because the cup was refillable…

It had been 309 days. That’s how long I lasted as a stay-at-home-Mom.

I started this post on December 5th and it hasn’t been touched since then. I started writing it the night before I went back to work as I laid in bed. I fell asleep without finishing it. Since then, I’ve often thought about what I would write when I picked it back up again.

And in my mind, I honestly didn’t have a strong pull for what direction this post should even go next. Should I write about how incredible my new job is? How it was the first job posting I read on that cold Sunday November afternoon (just days after deciding to go back to work) and when I read through the job description, I felt deep in my bones that it was meant for me? And how I got so excited about getting called for an interview, that I took my kids for ice cream before dinner?

Or should I write about the guilt part? The part about feeling invisible on many of my days as a SAHM, or the part about feeling guilty for feeling like I need to be seen in the first place?

The reason why I was hung up on finishing this blog post was because the part I was meant to tell in this story hadn’t happened yet…

As I rocked Everly to sleep tonight, in our favorite spot in the house, I started to cry. I could hear her tiny snore and closed my eyes as I rested my lips on the top of her head. The smell of her fresh bath, the limp weight of her sleeping body against my chest. I didn’t want to put her down.

It was tonight that I became overwhelmed with gratitude for the days I had with her. For all the afternoons we had together as we walked to school to pick up Sadler from Kindergarten.

For all the musical story times in the park we got to attend with Mr. Pete, and for all the fun Costco trips, eating samples and smiling at strangers.

It was tonight that I realized how much more engaged I’ve felt with my girls since I went back to work. I felt it the very first night; I remember that first night vividly. I couldn’t stop smiling. I remember noticing that I looked more at the details of their faces.

It was tonight that I recalled the moment I had my epiphany, and how I’d come to realize that my time home with my girls gave them more quantity time with me, but certainly not more quality time. I had allowed myself to become a martyr to my home, my chores, my expectations as a wife, my role as a mother. I wasn’t happy, and I was in denial about it.

It was tonight that I realized how grateful I am for every experience I had last year. For every bit of perspective that was gained. For every book that was read. For every new person that I met. For every old friend that I reconnected with, and for every (sometimes) long winded phone conversation. For e v e r y s i n g l e minute I shared with my children. For every essential oil class I taught. For MOPS. For it all –I am, and will forever be grateful.

It was tonight that I smiled when I thought to myself, “I love my new job.” I am grateful for the wonderful people I work with and for the deep level of engagement each of my co-workers pours into in their roles. I love the energy in our office and that everyone has a good sense of humor. I love that I’m connected again with my property management family, and that I’ve met so many kind people on our site teams and in our corporate office. And although its been less than sixty days, I feel like I’ve worked there for months.

It was tonight that I acknowledged the rhythm that my husband and I seem to have found. The parenting balance that seems to feel a little gentler, a little more predictable, a little more whole.

It was tonight that I acknowledged never to take another day for granted, and that something as simple as a lunch break with adults five days a week can make you feel like a real human again.

There really is so much I could say about this new chapter in my story, and how the pages even turned to this point in the first place. If you had told me a mere season ago that I’d be back at work by year end, I would have probably rolled my eyes, and maybe even debated with you.

I will forever remember 2017 as the year I “woke up”. The year I grew closer to God and slowed down. The year I deepened in spirit and the veil was lifted. The year that I came alive to the awareness of what it means to truly be in your life path and followed my spiritual GPS. The year I gained wisdom of the power of the spoken word, learned the critical importance of gratitude, meditation, and how to better take care of my body.

And, most importantly, it was the year I had the privilege of being at home with my children. To be a Mama. To be a part of their every day, from start to finish. Every good day, every bad day. Every new experience, every memory, every adventure. We had an incredible year together and it’s one I will remember for the rest of my life.

My heart is full tonight.

I’ve got all the feels.

I chose joy then, and there isn’t a doubt I still do. Every day.

Why I May Never Be a Diamond doTERRA Leader

I had the privilege of attending a training with one of my brilliant upline leaders earlier this summer and learned the top 7 traits of all doTERRA Diamonds. The traits were written, one-by-one on the white board. And when I saw number 3, my throat choked up.

The average monthly income of a Diamond in 2016, by the way, was $16,733 – so its definitely a good thing to have on your vision board. It’s been on mine since this journey all started for me in March. There were 469 total Diamonds across the globe in 2016,  and that number only continues to rise. Not to mention their are ranks higher than that, and the income snowballs as the ranks grow. It’s a very real thing, I’m learning.

But, back to the list. The top 7 characteristics of all 469 doTERRA diamonds, here they were in plain sight:

Number 1: Woman. CHECK.  Of all essential oil users and certainly of all business builders, most are women for whatever reason. I’m ok with that.

Number 2: 30-45 years old. CHECK. I am officially halfway to 70, so we are good there, too!

Number 3: Supportive Spouse… we will come back to this one.

Number 4. Need for Money.  WELL, YES. Of course I have a need for money! I remember seeing this one and kind of tilting my head thinking, who doesn’t need money??? and then I realized…some people that “do doTERRA” and advance in rank are already financially stable and don’t really “need the money” — so if they were asked “is money a factor?” the answer could safely be no. For me, that’s just not the case. I gave up my income and career prior to doing this. Yes, that was my choice, and we have eliminated debt and several unnecessary expenses in order to find a little more wiggle in our budget. But of course we need the money. So, another SCORE on the list for me.

Number 5. Influencer. I’m starting to think that maybe I can influence others– whether I knew it, like it, think I deserve it, or believe it. But this blog alone has proven to me that my words matter. And that I can build a tribe of readers and brighten someones day from time to time. I’m down with that, 100% and will continue to find every ounce of joy in the process. It’s been fun to be the CEO of my own business. And no, I never felt called to “sell essential oils”, but I’m learning that my calling is serving and teaching and leading with the passionate fire I’ve got burning inside of me. Those who see my light will follow.  I’ve had a few people join me on this journey, so it’s safe to say we all influence each other in this business.

Number 6. Business Experience. CHECK. I managed roughly a half billion dollar asset in property management and a staff of a dozen people. I’ve written budgets and held team meetings and given performance reviews. Business was all I knew for a decade.

Number 7. Already Natural. CHECK. I’ve been using these products for almost 3 years. I get down with attachment parenting and try to feed my family organic and/or raw foods when I can. Sure, we don’t do it perfectly, but I am fully aware of the consequences associated with processed/GMO foods and try to avoid them when we can. I honestly just try to do the best I can with the resources we have each day.

But Number 3. Let’s revisit that one. Because the reality is, I’ve had this blog post drafted for two months, with a fear of releasing it into cyberspace. Fear of speaking the words into the universe that my husband does not support my essential oil business. There, I said it.

But I didn’t really want to post this for several reasons. All this work I’ve done on myself over the last few months has taught me the power of our words and that building a house in a dark place in our life is never a good idea. But, the truth is, my heart feels like I can’t be the only one that is struggling with this very same challenge, and that perhaps these words should be heard.

Someone, somewhere, at some rank in their business may echo my sentiment in believing the following: We must recognize the importance of supporting each other through this journey, because there is a good chance there isn’t support coming from much place else. 

Whether you are building a networking marketing business or not, words of encouragement are so vital. We’ve underestimated the value of personal touch, and hand-written notes and compliments. We’ve become too dependent on the external that we’ve missed what’s being brought up on the internal.

I’m noticing the impact that the negative energy in my home has on my motivation, my drive, my purpose. I feel my joy being sucked from me, and doubt and fear set in. But then I get a text from someone with an oil testimony and my eyes well with tears.

To feel your soul burning at the corners of your flesh that you are following your life path, and to feel stuck all at the same time. To have moments where you wonder if you’ve got it all wrong, and to pray for answers that have been missed if they’ve come at all.

Part of my morning routine has become to repeat affirmations, aloud. I remind myself daily: “Be not afraid of going slowly. Be only afraid of standing still.” And while my pace will likely never be fast enough to satisfy my own hunger, I refuse to stand still.  I know how (and am learning to know when) to be still. But I won’t stand still.

And to all of my fellow doTERRA people, know that your encouragement and stories and smiles and hugs and friendships are needed. And appreciated, more than you may know. Let us be bright lights for one another and lift each other up in a such a way, that it won’t matter if you’ve got Number 3 checked off or not, you can still be a Diamond anyway.

That’s my plan at least.






Day four of Kindergarten is in the books. Sadler couldn’t be happier right now in these moments of her life.

 I’ve had all the feels this week about this whole starting school thing.

Filling out the form, using only 5 words to describe my only 5-year-old…my baby. I had never truly thought of words to describe her before. Just last week as we rode in the car, Reid and I gave our input on who we saw our daughter to be; I was filling in her name, and her strengths and weaknesses, and her “hot buttons”. It was heartwarming to come up with the best five words that we thought described our girl, together: STRONG-WILLED, KIND, TENDERHEARTED, LEADER, INTELLIGENT.

As I wrote the words in the paper, I began to cry. Who were we talking about here? Sadler, or me?

It’s so hard as a parent (at least for me at this place in my journey) when you see things in your children, qualities about them, similarities in their behavior, predictability in how they’ll answer questions…and you feel like you’re looking in the mirror.

I’ve coming to learn and accept that I am my own best teacher, but this little girl runs a real tight second. She teaches me things about myself, and I try to teach her things about herself because I just know how she sees life. Sometimes it’s as if we share the same eyes.

She speaks my language. She gets me and I get her. I feel so incredibly lucky that she is mine. 

But I want her to find her way in her way. I don’t ever want to be a tug of influence, but rather a beam of guidance that just leads her there, on her own.

She’s a 1. I’m a 1, too. 

So I know for her, it can seem like we are the only ones with the only way. Our hearts are protected yet open, and our ideas are bigger than us it seems. Yet we know we can always push harder. 

It’s been a struggle this week. Finding balance between being a good stay-at-home-mom and a servant leader/CEO to my newly-blossoming essential oil business. Can’t I do both?

Time-blocking. When I have (let’s be real, when I make) the time to actually block the time. It happens sometimes. We’ll call it 50 percent.

Meditating (actually just discovered Light Sourcing by Rebecca Campbell in her INCREDIBLE BOOK, “Light is the New Black”). My mornings have become my favorite time of the day for more reasons than this one. 

Hot yoga when I have someone to watch the girls (aka – when Reid gets home from work or really early on Saturday mornings). I’d go every single day if it were possible. It’s my sanctuary. 

  Lots of oils. I love and find comfort in knowing than whenever things get heavy, I can count on my oils for safety and solace. They usually change the game for me so profoundly that I’m moved to tell someone or make a Facebook live video about my experience. 

Affirmations. Written on a whiteboard, to be repeated each morning. Out loud. Because I know the power of the spoken word. 

Lots of deep personal development through books. Mindset transformations about money and budgeting.  Journaling.

I’m doing so many of the things. I’ve created so many positive habits. Yet, I still find myself feeling out of balance. 

Unsteady. Ungrounded. 


I’m learning to soften into who I am. We all need to. 

I’m so worried about getting it all done that I can’t lose sight of what I’m doing it all for. 

I’ve prayed for answers for quite some time now. Shortly after (and sometimes during), I look up to see a squirrel balancing along the power line right in front of me. It’s like he comes out of thin air. I see that as God telling me to keep my footing, just one in front of the other. Slow and steady. 

Because as the old Chinese proverb goes, “Be not afraid of going slowly; be only afraid of standing still.”

Why Yoga is Life

Today was hard. This week has been hard. This month has been hard.

Life has seemed hard.

I will be the first to admit, unabashedly so, that being a stay-at-home mom is HARD.

It is everything more than I ever imagined it could be, and nothing like I imagined it would be.

I’m waking up earlier today than I ever have before — intentionally. And it feels like Christmas  morning, every day. I cherish my time, my space, my quiet, my stillness. I need that time.

I’ve been going to Revolution Hot Yoga since the last day of my maternity leave with Everly. I’ve never stayed so consistently loyal to a place like this, and have felt comfortable in my own skin inside those walls since my very first visit.

Anytime life gets really hard, I want to practice hot yoga. I crave it.

I’ve become addicted to the heat and the sweat and the release. It’s an hour of space amidst the chaos of life where I truly let go, something I don’t do in real life much at all it seems.

My body has become supple. It has become strong. I feel beautiful.

Tonight’s class was the best, most intimate and sacred class I have ever had. Hands down, in all of the yoga practice I’ve had in all of my years, tonight was bigger.

Rebecca felt us. Not just me, she felt us.

She felt all the junk we were carrying, and the loads we beared, as we all walked through the doors with smiles on our faces and all pretended to be okay.

She brought an awareness to the room of all the color, and talked us through releasing energy and letting go. She talked real talk, but in the most beautifully woven song of words that forced us not to force, but to really let go.

For the first time ever in my practice, sweat came out of my eyeballs. It felt peaceful, and literally washed away some of the weight I brought in with me.

“Find your tribe, lightly. Follow your heart, lightly. Let your voice be heard, lightly.”

Eyes closed. Music soft. The room was still as she guided us.

Deep breaths in…deep breaths out.

Yoga is breathing.

Breathing is life.

Yoga is life.

photo credit: scullyfit.com
I’m so thankful that yoga has led me to meditation. (I read somewhere recently that meditation may truly be more effective than medication. I wouldn’t be surprised in the least.)

I truly believe, that our mind and body and spirit, they are all ONE. They are all connected, and they are affected by each other, and they move through one other.

We impose limitations on ourselves in life based on our past experiences, fears, self-doubt and judgments of others. These limitations keep us from being our best. They keep us in boxes, under the bed. They dim our lights, and feed our ego.

Yoga is my way of releasing those limitations, even if for just sixty minutes; but for those sixty minutes, I feel myself being gentle with myself. And I trust my body. And I don’t care what anyone thinks about how I look in my pose or how deep my stretch is.

I go inward. 

As the within, so the without, right? What lies inside is what lives outside. The answers aren’t out in the material world; for the best teacher we have is our self. Look in the mirror, you’ll see.

I’m no master, but self-discovery is tasty. Life’s color is brighter when you take a little time to be still. I know I have so many more layers to peel.

I turn 36 in January and have decided that I want to go on a yoga retreat for my birthday. A long weekend of peace, tranquility, stillness and lots of yoga is just what I want most as I enter a new year of life.

I am open to suggestions of places to visit, do you have a favorite?


And So It Is

I’ve debated deleting my Facebook account. It’s too painful.

You think that sounds silly. Roll eyes. Think to yourself, get over it Candice. 

But that’s just the thing, I can’t help it. I feel EVERYTHING.

I feel it when people talk nasty to one another. I feel it when people bash the President (any of them). I feel it when people take jabs at each other over differing views about racism or politics or what color a dress is.

When I am in the presence of others, I feel things, too.

I feel when people are sad. I feel when people are embarrassed. I feel when people are angry.

I recently saw a lady belly dancing at the park in front of hundreds of people, many who were making fun of her. I could feel her joy and passion as she danced, and it made me cry (looking back, it was a bizarre experience because my tears came out of nowhere).

I feel when people are lying to me, and that’s one of the toughest to withstand. Having someone you genuinely care for tell a flat out lie to your face, and you just know that they are lying, because you just know…well, it sucks.

This shift has brought some people on my path closer to my heart, and into my life with deeper meaning. It has also repelled several people in my life away from me. They don’t think I can tell, but I can feel it, too.

Being able to feel  everything isn’t anything new to me. I just didn’t know what it was before. I chalked it up as tingly legs, or a lump in my throat, or a migraine. I’d reach for medicine or take a warm bath or go home from work, because I felt physically ill.

My throat has a lump right this very second, and I’m sure it’s because my ego is trying to tell my brain to tell my hands to stop typing. Stop telling these things about myself, so as to not risk the ridicule from those who lack the ability to understand. Don’t risk putting yourself out there on the internet for the world to see and talk about you behind your back.c288cb1769375e3fa6264d51f15a902b

You see, I don’t write things like this for recognition or for likes. It’s truly none of my business what anyone thinks about my writing. Don’t mishear me, I am eternally grateful for the unexpected following I’ve gained, and for the overwhelming gratitude I’ve received from so many of you who read my story. It’s a deep honor to be a part of the space in your day.

Writing is my calling. I have enjoyed writing since I was a small child, and it has been a part of me all throughout my life.

Even down to the name of this website, every part of this blog has been driven by my inner voice, or intuition, or the Holy Spirit. Each time I’ve sat down to type, it’s been in response to something that’s moved inside of me. Something I’ve prayed about and waited to hear an answer to. Lots of times, something bubbles up and the urge to write is powerful! Urges that I don’t question, because they feel 100% energetically aligned with where I am that day. I have to usually stop whatever I’m doing to get my words out.

I truly believe that there is a worldwide shift taking place right this very minute, and people around the world are learning about themselves what I’ve learned about myself. This month marks a year since I “woke up”. And since then, the rest has happened rapidly. I’m still peeling back layers of self-discovery.

And I have been called to tell my story.

To make sure that if there is even one lonely soul out there who feels that something in life is maybe just a touch off kilter, but you can’t quite put your finger on what it is. There are so many of us out there, and I believe we are called to shine our light bright into the world so that we may light up the path for others. For those who cannot yet see.

In all of my life, I have never felt so sure of who I am as an individual. My body has never been so supple and so strong. I am whole, in mind and body and spirit. Because it’s all ONE. And we are all ONE.

Here is an interesting thought to ponder. Look at these two words:

Is it ALONE?


What if we’ve become so programmed and brainwashed and fear-mongered that we’ve lost our sense of ONENESS along the way?

We are all one. We are all energy, and all flow through the universe.

I used to hear “energy” and think only about physical movement. If someone was “high energy” they were just hyper. Couldn’t sit still.

In reality, high energy means high vibrations – GOOD VIBES. Low energy, or low vibrations are typically not good vibes (not for me, at least). Every person and thing on this planet is made of energy and we “vibe” with frequencies that are similar to our own. Hence, the icky feeling you get when certain people come around, and the amazing sense of still waters you get when you certain others come around. Your vibration won’t lie to you.

There are days in which I question the process, but I’m learning that questioning things is part of the process. Gone are they days where we can walk blindly through life with our heads in the sand. We should be questioning everything.

Thinking for ourselves. Loving FIERCELY. Forgiving quickly.

It’s what’s lies inside each of us that we are looking for. We are the teacher, and the best one at that.

I am thankful for my yoga practice, as it keeps me reminded of the importance of just breathing. I notice my breathing throughout the day in a satisfying way that fills my soul with joy. To know that my practice is seeping into my daily life reminds me that I’m on the right path. I will forever be grateful for the art of yoga and for the amazing instructors I am guided by. Yoga is life for me, because it’s taught me how to meditate and how to be still.

Being still lets me listen. Not only to those around me, but to my body. And my mind. And to the Holy Spirit when it speaks to me.

Let us hear the callings of our soul.

Let us LOVE.

Let us be ALL ONE.

And let us fly high, lifting one another up with grace and courage.

This is my story. May yours be written, too. Namaste.









Did I Really Just Cry Over Netflix?

If the television is on in our house, you can almost bet its never for anything I voted to watch. There are plenty of reasons I say this, but it’s true.

Since we cancelled cable, we rely on Netflix and Amazon Prime and have really gotten some good use out of our Apple TV and Fire Stick. Normally if the TV is on, it’s Moana or Pee Wee Herman as of late; soon it will be football (foreshadowing to a great post, I’m sure <insert eye roll emoji> ), and lots of times it’s golf or Wheel of Fortune (always gets my vote). And I can’t fail to mention that we are big Big Brother fans, so Reid and I do make an effort to watch that together when we can. Thanks to our nifty wireless antenna, we can pick up a couple dozen local channels and haven’t missed cable a bit.

I could say what most would say – “I don’t have time to watch TV…” but the reality is I choose not to watch TV. I’ve enjoyed getting lost in books and writing posts like this, planning out the finishing touches on projects I’ve been meaning to finish for weeks/months/years, spending time outside or working on my business.

The way I see it, we have little chunks of space in our day, and we get the privilege of choosing what we do inside those spaces. The choices we make will create our life, over time. We control our time, our time shouldn’t control us, and watching TV always seems to take the reins of control when I give in to it. Much like scrolling through social media, I’ve learned to appreciate and actually crave the disconnect from screen time. It’s too easy to get sucked into a vortex of comparison and judgement when we compare our lives to someone’s best when we are potentially at our worst. But, I digress…

It came as somewhat of a surprise last Monday night when Reid suggested that we start a new show on Netflix together. He delivered a beautifully pitched invitation for us to “spend some time together after the kids go to bed”, which I saw appealing and agreed to, truthfully without even knowing what show I had just committed myself to watch.

Ozarks. Jason Bateman. Fair enough, I thought. And about 10 minutes in, I was hooked to the story line, or I suppose I should say, what I assumed the story line would develop to be.

We snuggled up on our over-sized couch with a warm blanket and watched quietly as the first episode of this Netflix original series played in front of us. I was into it.

And then, when the episode ended and I got up to use the bathroom, I noticed Sadler sleeping on the steps. Again (roll eyes, again). So, I carried her back to her bed and proceeded with somewhat of a bedtime routine to get her back to sleep.

Meanwhile, downstairs…guess who starts to watch episode number 2? Without me????!

I walked into the bedroom, and when I noticed what was happening, I saw red. I was so mad. Here I had been, duped into a TV show I didn’t really even want to watch in the first place, and was sold on the fact that “we can do it together”. And he is watching it without me.

I shared my frustration aloud with him, which seemed stupid to him. And then I realized how stupid it really was…I’m crying, over Netflix???

I woke up the next morning to think about what had happened, and it hit me.  A blog post I had recently read said something like this:

Our Expectations, minus our Observations, equal FRUSTRATION.

Having expectations is a tricky one. We can and should have expectations in life, right? I have expectations of myself. Typically, too harsh ones. When I managed a team of people, I had expectations of them, too. And when they actually did or didn’t do a task that seemed to correlate with my expectation, that’s what I was left to observe. And then I was frustrated.

I have expectations of my children, and how they should behave and what they should eat and how often they should try to pee throughout the day.

Clearly, I expected the Netflix thing to turn out differently. Never did I think I’d come back downstairs and see him watching without me. But, it was even more clear that I was so bent out of shape about it.

Will it matter in ten years?…doubtful. But the fact that I expected the situation to turn out a certain way, and then it just didn’t go down that way, I was left feeling…frustrated. Which led to sadness, which led to saying things I regretted the next morning.

This incident compelled me to decide that it was time for Reid and I to declare a few expectations, ones that we could hold each other accountable for. We decided to declare the pillars of our family, and what would be important foundations to raise our girls upon. You may be thinking: shouldn’t you have done that BEFORE you had kids? Maybe. And maybe we thought about it. But this time, we’re doing it.

Letting go of my expectations in order to make room for a clear plan is exciting to me.  A plan that will hopefully craft a life of purpose, with healthy sprinklings of Netflix time here and there…except, next time there will only be tears shed if we are watching Beaches.