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Showing posts from January, 2010

Why Is Trying to Be Happy Making Me Miserable?

Most of us just want to be happy. The problem is that most of the things we seek after for our happiness are consumeristic or selfish. For years I went about looking for someone or something to make me "happy." It might have been a shopping trip that would make me feel good. Some days it was a pint of ice cream or a gooey chocolate brownie. Other times I thought being fit would make me happy and so I tossed aside the high fat, sugar loaded goodies for long runs, yoga, or biking. And sadly, too often I placed my husband and children as the sole providers of my happiness... I don't recommend this. Did any of this bring lasting fulfillment? Did anything bring the happiness that I was searching for? You guessed it. (Ummm, no.)

Maybe you find yourself doing the same thing. Moms, there's much to be said for taking time for yourself and indulging in the things you love (with moderation). We can't run on adrenaline forever and we need to find joy and satisfaction in livi…

Sleep, Snacks and Sacrifice

Being a mom means making sacrifices. If you were blessed to have a mother while you were growing up, you probably know what I mean. She sacrificed having nice clothes so that you could have Nike sneakers. She sacrificed vacations so that you could play soccer. She sacrificed sleep so that you could have a social life.

If you are a mom now, you have realized how much your own mother sacrificed for you because you are now making sacrifices for your own children. Hopefully you’ve thanked your mother. Maybe today is the day to write her a thank you (I mean with real paper and pen… a text won’t cut it).

My latest sacrifice for my children can best be summed up by my lack of blogging over the past two months. And in some ways it seems wrong to even call it a sacrifice. When the calendar fills up and something has to be deleted from my schedule, my goal is that my family rises to the top of my priority list and other less important items hit the cutting room floor. Hence, no productive writ…