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"I'm the worst."

This is my typical go-to saying when I make a mistake: “I’m the worst (fill in the blank).” It doesn’t matter what I did wrong, or in what area of my life — mom, wife, friend, volunteer. If I make a mistake or forget something, my reflex is to think the problem is not with an action, but with me as a person. I’d like to say that after all my time in therapy, I recognize this language and called myself out on it. But that would be a lie. I have three kids — ages 7, 5 and 3. When I started writing children’s books, I realized I had the perfect test market at home, so my kids have been my willing (so far) guinea pigs. When I first read them books (there are actually three right now) they loved

Guacamole for Everyone!

Late last year my husband and I went on an amazing trip, hosted by Bethel Church, called Gather. It was a life-fulfilling, spirit-resetting trip full of laughter, fellowship and worship. It was a special time, to say the least. One thing the trip offered was time to work on inner healing. I, of course, took advantage of this — we could all use a little inner healing. During the process, I got this message. I debated writing about it because I was thinking maybe it only made sense to me. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought: “You know what? I think this is a good analogy.” So journey with me into the inner workings of my mind, won’t you? I wanted to work on my feeling of self-w

Permission

The other day, I woke up feeling pretty bummed. It was a combination of stresses, decisions made (that were the right ones, but still not fun to make) and, I think, just the daily drudgery that sometimes is life. A lot of life is just the grind, you know? Normally, I try to force myself out of this headspace: “You have no right to feel this way, look around you: So many people have it so much worse. Your feelings are just selfish.” That’s how I typically shame myself out of sadness or anger. Or I just ignore the unpleasant feelings and push them down to put on a pseudo-happy front. This day, though, I gave myself permission to just be sad. I have been reading a lot about how emotions are kin

Table Game Part 2

In an earlier blog post, I talked about a game we play as a family at the dinner table. Essentially, you start with one person at the table, and everyone else says something nice about them. Then that person has to say one nice thing about themselves before you move onto the next person. I really love this game, and so do my kids (especially my oldest). But I have a confession: When we started the game, and before I really started therapy, it would fizzle out by the time it got to me. We have three kids, and when we started playing the game (2 years ago), they were 5, 3 and a baby. It was hard to keep them focused, and something would happen at the table that would have us scrambling for a t

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