mama talk #11: missed worship service + Starbucks double shot espresso on ice

mama talk #11: missed worship service + Starbucks double shot espresso on ice

Hello pretty mamas!

I am literally overflowing with good vibes, and slightly shaky from the two sips of latte that I drank late this morning on an empty stomach.


I am back mamas, and am checking in from Litchfield county. Otherwise known as OITNB. . . One of my IG (Instagram, duh) besties taught me that this morning.

So let’s talk life since Saturday, 3:30 a.m.

Fourteen hours, and one layover later, and we had valiantly made it to our destination at 3:30 a.m. Saturday morning.

Brooklyn Meadow, who had been determined to make the trip without even one nap, was exhausted beyond compare and suffering the pain associated with popping three molars that same day.

My husband and I have this running joke because we travel so much with our daughter. We have been led to believe that she is so tired of being confused from waking up in new places and states, that she now just stays up so there aren’t any “surprises.” I am literally laughing so hard reminiscing on all of her dazed and confused moments, from waking up in different time zones and climates all in the span of a day.

Anyways, I am tangent-ing, back to topic. Friday|Saturday, our travel days, consisted of nothing more than travel and catching up on sleep.

And like all weeks, Sunday is the next to follow.

I had made big plans for Sunday. I had failed to mention that I over fantasize the shit out of everything y’all. So, in true me-fashion, I had planned to spend the day with my mama, Brooklyn Meadow, and my VT bestie. I had decided (so optimistically) that we were going to take my teething (and overtired) toddler to Sunday morning worship a few towns over, followed by brunch, cocktails, and shopping.

Plot twist: Life.

The church, unbeknownst to us all, was under construction. Brunch was a no-go. My double shot espresso on ice from Starbucks gave me hella jitters in the worst way possible, and our girl’s day out shopping trip had turned into me chasing barefoot B around Gap while my mama and bestie shopped for me (gosh, how did I get so lucky?)

I hate to break it to you, but my day didn’t end there y’all. Nope the remainder of my day was spent picking fights with my husband and trying to troubleshoot how I was going to get my ass back on the proverbial work horse that I so desperately needed to get back on.

And so this convo’ (which I truthfully had no explicit direction for when I started writing) has led me to my discussion on accountability and extreme self-criticalness. I have been so dang hard on myself lately mamas. How many of y’all do the same?

I have literally been bashing myself for my inability to give if not most, all of myself, to my work. And for those who have followed me thus far (thank you pretties) in my journey know, my visit back home has made me completely unable to “free” up and make time in my schedule to again, tend to my work.

I have been so gosh darn hard on myself y’all. Negative self-talk has been adjusted to max, and I have been literally fixated on my inability to write, create, inspire.

But mama, and I speak to both of us when I say this, let us give ourselves some dang grace. That same grace that we are so willing to give to others, let us shower ourselves in. Let us be open to the grace given to us by God, ourselves, and (so kindly) by others. Let us bask in it, thrive in it, allowing the absolute power of grace to envelop and nourish us at our very core.

While being hard on ourselves and keepin’ ourselves in check is mostly good, encouraging and even stoking (ahem, campfire reference) to our future success, there is a fine line that we should beware of crossing. And, that is where grace comes into play.

Remember mamas, and I often have to remind myself, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and the process was laborious and rather pain staking.

You aren’t going to get it right the first time mamas, and maybe not the second, third, or fourth time either. It may take a hundred times before you master and perfect the tiniest sliver of your craft. And rather than dwell in the not-so-perfect ninety nine times, instead, bask in your journey and progression. Bask in how much you evolved, and how far you have ultimately come.

And I will say this time and time again mama, we have only O N E shot at this beautiful thing we call life, so:

Embrace in the chaos | Give yourself grace | Remember why you started

Grow | Create | Inspire

Much love from Litchfield County, Connecticut,

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