As the mother of four daughters, spring has brought many opportunities for compromise. Specifically, I am talking about finding my girls a formal dress to wear to high school dances. Months in advance, the pictures and links are sent back and forth on our phones.

“What do you think of this one?”

I flew up to Utah Monday morning. It’s such an easy trip. Then I rented a car, packed it with all of my daughter’s belongings, and we started the long drive home to Texas. This leg of the journey is not easy. And although we only used actual toilets for relief on the way home (iykyk😜), it was still an adventure.

It was early. My eyes blinked with the pain of inadequate sleep. I looked at the numbers on the clock—did that say 5:00? I rolled my young eyes. The sky was dark and quiet, and I was quite sure this was going to be a waste of time. I got dressed, annoyed that I was up at this ridiculous hour and irritated at my dad for choosing this scenic float down the Snake River instead of a totally awesome whitewater adventure. This was going to be BORING.

Your voice is very underdeveloped.”

That’s what the director of the choir I auditioned for said to me, right after I sang for her. She didn’t say it once, either. I got that critique MULTIPLE times.

This post is going to be different.

I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ. Missionary work has always been a part of the doctrine I know and believe. My parents, brothers, husband, many in-laws, and nieces and nephews have served missions. I anticipated that several of my own children would decide to go on missions as well. No problem. I know the drill.

Just in case you were wondering, my family is perfect. ☺️

Wait.

That’s not right.

What I meant to say is…my family is normal.

Life is not meant to be easy. Your life, no matter how hard you work, how much you study, how good or beautiful or kind you are, is not going to be without challenges. You were created for challenges. It is divinely designed that way.

This was the philosophy I was taught, and still believe today. Life can be will be hard, and when it is—you grit your teeth and keep going.

I’m almost 50. Today I spent some time with my oldest daughter, working out wedding details. Then I spent some time talking to my adult son who is in Argentina on a church mission. And more talking to my other kids, husband, and my future son-in-law.

Lately, my social media feeds are just one big argument. Everyone is stating their opinions about everything, followed up by shared articles written by some obscure author who validates and justifies his/her opinion. And the bickering commentary on each post is making my head spin.

It was the summer of 2015. August to be exact. Brian and I packed up our six kids and flew to San Francisco, California. We played, ate SO MUCH ice cream, whale-watched, rode trolleys, drove down the coast, stopping at all the viewpoints and aquariums, and hiked through parks filled with Giant Sequoias and Redwoods.

Remember how I auditioned for a choir and made it in?

Well, it’s been awesome. We have a show coming up and we have to make simple costumes for it. No big deal. I’ve watched the tutorials and read all the information they sent. This morning I decided to get started.

The world is ever-evolving. Trends come and go, boundaries are pushed, long-held societal norms are destroyed. Raising kids in an environment like this can be intimidating, to say the least.

I started highlighting my hair the summer before my senior year in high school.

The first time I did it felt like Christmas morning. I walked out of the salon a little blonder, and I was HOOKED.

alentine’s Day had me thinking a lot about one of my favorite topics—love. ❤️

Loving other people is a choice. You can decide to love someone and you can also decide to stop loving them.

There are moments in our life that are both the best and the worst.

Think of attending a funeral for a close family member or friend—the end of life is sad and feels like one of the worst times. However, funerals also bring family and friends together, and those reunions can be so sweet. I was reminded of this idea 16 years ago when my cousins and I were laughing so hard at a beloved uncle’s funeral. It is the best and the worst.

I did it again.

I checked out another book about home organization. This time it was Martha Stewart—the QUEEN of all things in the home! Once again, I just knew I was going to read some amazing paragraph, some unique and mind-blowing tip that would change me into an organized, label-wielding, container-buying maven.

There are days when I have oodles of patience and compassion and understanding. And then there are days when I’m a little snarky and blunt and fiesty. Today is one of the latter.

Slime.

I HATE slime. I’ve hated it since the first time my kids brought it home from some party years ago. It’s messy and nasty and always seems to find a way to ruin things.

A friend posted on social media about her love of maps, and it got me thinking.

I also love maps. I always have. When I was younger I had a globe that I adored. It was my favorite piece of decor. There is just something magical about a map—the possibility of travel and adventure right in front of you. I love, love them.

My family used to go vacation at Lake Powell every summer. One of my favorite things to do was get in the speedboat and go to Rainbow Bridge, where we would climb the cliffs and jump off into the water. It was so fun—but also incredibly scary.