Mommy Confession: Burned Chicken

Multitask. Yes. I thought I was an expert. Then I had Buddy. Oh dear. My youth say it like this… #thestruggleisreal.

It was a Monday… it could have been any day really. And here I was… typing a blog, holding a nummy in Buddy’s mouth, and chicken cooking on the stove. It was going so well until I had to use the bathroom.

Why does it all fall apart when I sneak to the bathroom?

On the way I hear the computer beep and the blue screen of death appears, the nummy pops out and Buddy screams like it’s going out of style, and above the beeping and the screaming I hear the chicken boiling over on the stove and a faint tinge of burned chicken broth filling the air.

Why, Lord? Why?

Multitask? Yeah right. 

What’s with my need to do it all… at once? Always fighting to get ahead so I’m all the time squeezing it in at the same time when there’s really no time. And whether it’s the post-partum hair loss or not, I’m literally pulling my hair out. I’m there trying to do it all and heaven knows it’s just not happening.


But then yesterday I had a moment. It was more than a moment actually. It was an hour. A full hour. It was almost noon and I was still wearing pajamas with a messy bun (a morning messy bun… not the cute kind you work an hour to perfect). I heard the dryer sound that a load of clothes was finished. I knew Hubby would be home soon looking for lunch. But Buddy was content after a feeding and changing. I was reading a book with him in his nursery and then I decided to read another and another. Then we sang and rocked and talked. With all the things I should have or could have been doing I decided to just be.

To be there.
To be present.
To be mom. 

And then that evening it happened again. There were so many things I could have been juggling but it was almost bath time and when I took off his little sleeper…

… the folds of his precious skin
… the curling of his little toes
… the peek-a-boo dimple in his cheek
… the gurgle behind his sneaky smile.


I decided to just be.

To be there. 
To be present. 
To be mom. 

I grabbed his fuzzy blanket and we lay on the floor together, reading and laughing and talking some more. Hubby heard us from the other room, left what he was doing and got down there with us. There we were working for a smile and tickling a tiny tummy, and I’m thankful for the birds eye view my spirit had of that beautiful scene with the world just buzzing about and us just simply still. Just being.


I know that every moment can’t be those moments. There’s an end to the clean undies. Everybody’s got to eat. Somebody’s got to work. I get that.

But if I’m learning anything from this new season of motherhood, it’s that it’s okay to just be sometimes. In fact, I need it. My family needs it.

And if you’re honest, you need it too. You need to leave the dishes in the sink. You need to leave the dust bunnies under the table. You need to leave the bed unmade. You need to embrace that moment… you know the one that catches you by surprise and paints a smile on your face and your heart.

Because in those moments who really cares about burnt chicken…

Mommy Confessions: Booger Wars and Bedtime Stories

I laughed out loud the other day out of the absolute absurdity of it all. Here I was in an all out booger war with Buddy. It wasn’t a slingshot situation or anything (relax Mom…). His little nose was stuffed and he was so bothered by it I just had to do what you do. I tried to remove as much as I could to comfort him. But as expected the discomfort of being nearly naked with a tube sucking in his nose made Buddy go right into “the fits”. He began to cry and the more frantic he became the harder he sucked it all back in. He’s sucking and I’m sucking. Booger war. When I finally won (Go me!!!) and he settled back in my arms for a snuggle, I finally had a moment to think…

What have my days become?
How in the world did I get here?

I’ve thought these things a hundred times or more since my motherhood journey officially began just two very short months ago.

… Like when we walked out of the hospital with this tiny little life and it wasn’t just a theory anymore but the very, real deal…

… Like the first time Buddy number 2’d in the bath and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or both…

… Or like every sleepless hour in the middle of the night and then again at the rising of the sun…

When the hard days seem to outweigh the good ones.

All those moments when I’ve felt way over my head in this brand new responsibility of caring for this young child. It’s such a far cry from the passing of my days just a few months ago.


I know it’s not far (I get that – but some days feel rreeeaaalllyyy long) but thinking back to it, I felt much more accomplished in those days, both in my career and in my home. I worked hard and efficiently, and felt that I had plenty to show for it. A freezer full of frozen meals. Empty laundry baskets. Weeks of curriculum completed. Sermons tucked away. Major events planned. A well organized day planner filled with meaningful and significant tasks. I celebrated my successes and the seemingly solid grip I had on my life.

And now… I celebrate booger victories, meals without tears, smiles earned, and a full cup of coffee that miraculously managed to be consumed hot. The littlest little things that happen inside the walls of our home. It’s nothing really.


But I’m reminded that while most evenings when I survey my day and say with defeat, “I did nothing today,” nothing could in fact be farther from the truth.

… I fed my little boy and kept him clean…
… I snuggled him close when he was frightened…
… I kissed his cheeks and ears and nose and toes…
… I tickled his tummy and sang him a lullaby…
… I played with him and told him a story about Jesus…
… I prayed with him and we read a book together…
… I danced with him and said I love you a million and one times…


… I spent quiet time with God in prayer and His Word…
… I kissed his daddy real good
… I told that incredible husband and father that I loved him…
… I cared for our home and family needs albeit much less than perfectly…

All that action, all that living, all that being… You can’t tell me it’s nothing. I take it back.

Because somewhere between booger wars and bedtime stories is this magnificent mess we call motherhood – a profound gift and awesome responsibility where deep love meets action in the most tangible way this side of heaven.

And if I’m sure of anything, it’s that the everything of motherhood is certainly never nothing.


A Fresh Cup

Grab a cup! We need to catch up. So much has happened in the precious months I’ve been absent from the blogging world.

Surprise! My husband and I welcomed into the world a beautiful, bouncing baby boy. Our little one arrived – in his very own time – on March 19th late in the evening at a healthy 8lbs 14oz and 19 3/4 inches long. And he immediately became our greatest treasure.


We named him Rowan and he’s been affectionately nicknamed Buddy by his wonderfully loving daddy, my remarkable husband, who keeps surprising me with his patience, love, maturity and growth in this new season full of challenges and blessings.

image image

So, these days we newbie parents are neck deep in this brave new world of diaper genies, strap on baby carriers, snap up sleepers, and multicoloured nummies. It’s exciting and scary, overwhelming and beautiful. And we are doing it together. I wouldn’t have it any other way.


In the mean time – the stolen time during naps and daddy duty – I’m getting back to my new normal self and finally putting my pen back to paper – rather, my fingers to the touch screen -writing again and this time with a growing new perspective on life and ministry. And, as expected, a deeper than ever love for coffee. Hey! I need it after that two hour morning shift I just pulled with Buddy at 3am!

I invite you to join me again – be it sporadically – as I share a little of life and coffee with you. The site is new – mainly because in the chaos of pregnancy and a new baby we lost track of a renewal on A Brewed Life. But a fresh start is as good as a new pair of stretchy jeans and a steaming Americano.

You just know this is gonna be fun.