Intentional-ish

I know some excellent Moms.  Ironing-the-uniform-Mom, sit-down-to-amazing-food-nightly-Mom, gorgeous-house-entertaining-Mom.  Six-pack-abs Mom.  Essential-oil-diffusing-pressure-points-sensory inputting-Mom.  I know Moms who save lives while kids are at school.  I know Moms who pick up one more hour of work and pay because a birthday is coming up.  I know SO MANY GREAT MOTHERS.... and the one thing they have in common?  They all think they're barely scraping by. I don't know a single Mom who thinks she's killing it.  They speak with eyes lowered about finding "someone to talk to" when they find the time, because the anxiety of their load is slowly pressing on their windpipe.  They can't breathe.  A few will allow that they're "good" moms, but no further.  "Great" is not possible.  There are too many ways to make mistakes and those mistakes make us unworthy of great. This free floating anxiety doesn't discriminate. We choos...

I'm a camp girl.  In my kitchen you cans see a camp sticker on the family command center.  It's fairly likely I'm wearing a washed out camp t-shirt.  The biggest compliment I've ever given my husband is that he could have been a camp counselor- he's that good of a guy (he was otherwise occupied making actual money to pay for college while I traipsed around the woods, extending youth as far as it would go). This year I took my girls to Mother/Daughter weekend at the very same place I spent summers- I walked them around and listened to traditions old and new explained.  I watched them jump off high dives (twisted ankle) and pick their way up the rock climbing tower ("I can't do it!").  They were delighted to stand on the benches and scream sing.  They baked cinnamon rolls from scratch.  They shot archery and rifles and took shots in battleball.  They jumped in with their whole hearts and grew mine in the process. I watched in wonder (and a few ...