"Everyone needs beauty as well as bread." -John Muir

 I've been striving for perfect. Without even knowing it really, I've been pinning and magazine clipping and decorating in my own little space for so long, that I've begun to form a picture in my mind of what home should look like, and developed a task sheet for myself of all the cleaning and organizing and purchasing required to make it just so. Its easy to get caught up in the pretty picture of home, and forget about the people there.

But the one thing my dream kitchen really needs is my heart.

 

If there's anything moms have in common, it’s that we worry.

We worry about our kids.  We worry for our kids. We worry we aren’t enough. We worry we aren’t doing enough. We worry we’re doing too much. 

We long for peace. But we live in worry.

I sat in the front seat, unmoving. Goosebumps covered my body, yet I was dripping with sweat. My heart was racing and my head spinning as if I had gotten up too fast. I willed my breathing to be slow and steady. In through the nose, 2, 3, out through the mouth, 2, 3. Despite my best efforts the breaths were shaky and thin. I knew what was happening. I also knew it just had to run it's course. I was having a panic attack.