I wrote this back in May while drinking my coffee, and hiding in my corner. 

My son is trying to climb up and get into the freezer on his own. 
He's trying to make his own pizza rolls in the air fryer. 
He knows he's capable, and doesn't really want the help. 

He's loves independence.

Atonomy.

I see he can do it. But I see all the things that he doesn't.
I see he could get hurt, or burnt, or make a mess that I have to clean up.
 
I say, "Wait! Hold on. Ask for help. I'm here. Ask me, and we can work something out!"

As soon as I say it, I know that I'm quite sure that God has that some conversation with me... If I'd only listen. 


My son has a heart for adventure. Mix that with his ADHD + impulse control issues. Why look when you can just leap? He wants to be in the center of the action. He has a heart of gold, and he tries hard to please people.

But when adventure calls, that's the loudest voice he hears. 



I freak out over all the times my son runs off. He is a sweet boy. He loves big. He wants to soak in all the life he can. But he doesn't stay put. He doesn't hear my voice when he's on an adventure. 

So now I'm wondering... how often am I the same?  Spolier: too often. 

Motherhood to this precious child is teaching me more about myself than I'd care to admit to some days-- and yet my love for him never changes. Just like the Lord's love for me (and ability to tolerate me and redirect me) never ceases.



Technology is rough sometimes.


Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the ease of many everyday tasks. I enjoy and take for granted being able to press a button and having the world at my fingertips. 


I’ve always been a writer, a documenter of things. I’ve always felt it so important to capture the memories and feeling and experience of life. 


Through my life, I’ve gone in and out of seasons of journaling. But about a year ago, I started journaling again. 


I’ve always been a traditional pen and paper girl. This time however, for the sake of ease and accessibility, I decided to just start keeping my entries in my Notes app on my iPhone. Since becoming a mother 13yrs ago, I’ve rarely been able to keep track of a notebook that didn’t get taken over by tiny artists. So, technology for the win — or so I thought. 


Last night was no exception. Just as I had done for the last year, I wrote my things down and poured out my heart. As I went to move my entry into the correct folder, I realized I had no folder. 


In fact, I had no files from the last year or more. Oh so many journal entries, sermon notes, random thoughts and big feelings, quotes from my children— you name it and I captured it in words — all gone! 


Evaporated. Nothing left. 

Maybe it sounds dramatic. 

It’s ridiculous how devastating that the loss of all those words were. But my writing is one thing that is really my own. 


Some people can draw, some people can cook, some people fix all the things. I meticulously hand pick my words for each occasion. I craft and curate them, I move them around. I try to capture the things of life and stick them to the paper, and make them flow like the northern lights in the sky to match what’s in my heart. I’m quite proud of that. 


So today, I feel a little invisible and frustrated. I feel like the pin in the map that said “Melly was here, and these are the things she saw and felt” got knocked off the wall. 


In the real world, I know I’m not invisible. 

I know the world has not fallen apart. 

Good things are still happening. 

I am loved. 

I am important. 

And I don’t have to stay in this sad slump. 

But in true Melly fashion, words are how I process and often move forward. 


So this post— that’s what this is. Letting go and moving on. Now to go out and buy a notebook and pens again. The wonders of technology can’t mess that up! 

Oh, how we're in a season of adjustment!
If you've been following this Caffeinated  little family of mine, then you know we've been pretty nonexistent on the blog over the last chunk of time. But let me assure you,   life has been anything but silent here.

We've gone from being a homeschool family to having all four children in school - and  how they are thriving! When I started this blog, we had two little girls. Now we have three girls  and a boy - and oh, how they have grown! 

We've gone from always being at home and rarely getting out to being oh. so. busy. Our big girls just finished a season of cheerleading that they can be proud of! Our littles have really fallen in love with preschool. We spend time at speech therapy and OT each week. Our family stays busy in church. The list goes on. 

I've gone from a stay-at-home mom, to working outside the home part-time, and back home again. Now I'm learning to work from home. That's a story and a half in itself. 

We've gone through some great ups and some rough downs. We've seen God's faithfulness through it all. We've seen His handiwork in the details regardless of whether it has been comfortable or not. 

If you know me, then you may know that writing has been my home for as long as I can remember. A fortress to keep my thoughts. Writing gave me the ability to imagine anything and share it with others. I always knew that I'd write. Adulthood tempts me to question that sometimes. But I always come back to it for several reasons. While it may not be today that I write a book, I'm using today to resurrect my blog from the abandoned corner of the internet. I hope to use my writing to connect with others, spread some joy, maybe some fistbumps in mom solidarity, and share some insight that is beneficial to anyone who stumbles here. 

I'll end this blog post with a quote that I can feel in my bones. It was penciled in a diary by an extraordinary young woman going through the most horrific of times. She sought comfort in chronicling her life as it happened. She found her words, she wrote them down as her heart spilled out on her pages, and she impacted countless people who have come into contact with her words.  

"Paper is more patient than people." -Anne Frank

I'm lifting my coffee mug in the air. Here's to paper being patient with me, and letting me make my own little impact. 


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