Hey y'all!

I love getting out of my home in Kentucky and finding fun/interesting things to do with friends or family. You too? 

I share about hitting the theater in Cincinnati quite often here but I wanted to do something a bit different and collect a list of upcoming events you can enjoy. 

For now, let's look ahead to the end of March and into April. (I'm not paid to share any of this with you. Please click the pic for more details on the event(s) you find yourself interested in. )

If you'd like to see my reviews of Jellystone Mammoth Cave and Cincinnati Zoo from the past, just click on the words. :) 

          

          

        

        

                

Hope you all have a fun and adventurous kick off to the Spring Season!

~Amy

Things To Do in Northern Kentucky (and beyond)

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 She was single, and overwhelmed, and scared and had been keeping an eye on my family for some time through Facebook. I hadn't personally spent time with her since my firstborn was an infant...so...it had been at least 12 years. I hadn't even been regularly commenting or messaging with her through social media. She was someone I added as a "friend" because I knew her and that was that. 

The initial message from her made my heart jump up and down repeatedly, but not in the way you would watch a child enjoy a trampoline. This was the kind of jump that goes with a very powerful heartbeat...and a sinking feeling in my stomach...and a "Oh, my goodness" heaviness. She was pregnant and wondered if I (and the hubster, of course) would be willing to adopt the boy she wanted to name Noah. Having a baby just didn't fit her life and the father left the picture as soon as he found out. 

The hubster and I had done a lot of work already on our end, legally speaking. We had a foster care license which meant that we had gone through the brutal and very invasive process of a home study. All she needed to do was find someone to support her through the process in her state. 

Did I mention we lived states apart? 

No matter. I know interstate adoptions are totally a thing and would be relatively simple since we had an agency to support us and there were all kinds of free services available to her. 

Our hearts were ready for this baby and we were so excited while we were very aware that this was a delicate topic.  I kept in correspondence with my friend and asked her how appointments were going, etc. and I tried to make sure I was sensitive to focus on her. 

At 14 weeks gestation she found out the baby would have xyy syndrome and the Doctors made the condition sound awful while urging her to terminate the pregnancy. My poor friend was physically alone with all the thoughts and pressures and unknowns. In the meantime, she was finding contacts who would help her with her decision to adopt. 

On November 2 of 2018, I got the message. 

"I went through with the termination. The stress got to me. It was the hardest decision to make. I hope Jesus doesn't hate me."

My heart was so heavy and yes, I cried. However, in this particular situation I knew that my focus needed to be on her and showing her compassion. It was such a wrestling match that happened within me. I went back and forth with all the questions.

"Why did she choose that?"

"What will happen with her now? Is she going to be ok?"

"Who is around her to help support her through this?"

"Is it fair for me to feel mad?"

"Where do I turn with this great feeling of loss?"

So many questions piled up. 

I didn't even talk to many people about it because I felt it was best to fully deny my own thoughts, feelings, and grief. Just sweep that all to the side, Amy, this is not about you. 

I spoke with my friend a few times and told her again and again that she is loved. Any Christian who would attack her for her choice is not one I want to identify with. I set my grieving and feelings and questions aside so I could be present with her and hear her out and build her back up as much as I could. I saw that in our picture, 2 moms were experiencing loss at the same time but she was facing so much of it on her own and in ways I can never imagine. 

In the meantime, a local friend had a pregnancy that ran along the same timeline as Noah's. She had her son just a couple weeks before Noah's due date. 

I could not. 

I couldn't ever hold him after he was born, while I watched my friends play rounds of "pass the baby". I tried to celebrate him and support my local friend with gifts and gift cards after he was born - but I cried at home after she opened the baby clothes. 

I never wanted to take away from the joy of new life that my friend and her family were experiencing so I stuffed and stuffed and pressed and stomped down every last one of my feelings, never to say a word lest I be judged and called jealous. I was jealous. But I wasn't jealous in a petty way. My arms were empty and I felt the pain of that every day. 

I still feel that pain.

It's 2021, and I'm just now beginning to allow myself to grieve. Noah is 2 on heaven's side. Every time I see a little "wobbler" - you know how a walking toddler kinda wobbles as they go? - I feel a sinking in my gut. I was hurting so badly this past April 24 but I never said anything to anyone about it. I just let the day go on making sure to whisper prayers to God as I tried to go to sleep that night. "Hey, Jesus. Would you please go give Noah a hug from me? I know he doesn't even know who I am...unless you told him? ...Maybe it's me who needs the hug. Amen."

This loss is the strangest kind for me. I've gone back and forth about whether or not I really have the right to feel anything. Do I? 

Regardless of my rights, I'm hurting and trying to process that hurt while I parent my own kiddos and foster another and give my "yes" to other kiddos who need a home, whether they end up here or not. 

This coming Mother's Day is one that is really stinging for me. 

I just want to see Noah's face and tell him that he had a home with us here but that heaven is so much better than anything we could have given him. 

I pray my arms hold my own kiddos a little bit closer for a little bit longer and that I find the grace to have continuous gratitude for all the good gifts I have in life. 

I don't know if you're someone who's been in this position before? I kind of feel like I'm on an island here and no one really understands the landscape. If you do know how this feels, oh I hope you also know God's love for this kind of pain. He has been consistent for me and has helped me be strong when I need to be while catching the tears that fall when I can't hold them in any longer. 

This Mother's Day, I pray that as I feel the sting of loss, I find the gifts in my life that bring pure joy.

I love you, Noah. 

Love, me. 

Mother's Day And Grief? Here's Where I'm At.

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 I don't know about you, but I'm a visual learner. I always learn best by seeing. I always "hear" God best through seeing as well. The tiniest, everyday things can be monumental in my life as a I grow in character and faith. 

This past Mother's Day was a tough day for me. Yes, it was full of all the hugs and kisses and love from  my kiddos. It was also my first Mother's Day as a Foster Mom. I knew that my day was filled with hugs from someone else's baby and she was probably missing him something awful. Just the thought of that burns in the back of my throat all over again. What a great and heavy privilege.

Before this day, the hubster had gone out and bought me loads of Sunflower seeds. The packs told me how to plant/water them and said they would grow to about 6 feet tall. Oh, I couldn't wait to see them. I decided to bring the kiddos outside with me on Mother's Day to plant them - just before the rain came and watered them for the first time. We had such fun racing the clouds that hung heavy and threatened us in a "Fee Fie Foe Fum" kind of way. We giggled and squealed as we tried to plant as quickly as we could.

Then came the rain. 

Then came months of really hard things with the Covid-19 restrictions and missing my friends and family. Add to that allllll the things our Foster son was processing as his visits with his family continued to be held virtually.  He had new memories and opinions he was trying to process and we had some difficult days. Add to that all the evidence of brokenness in the world right outside my door. 

It's easy to say, sunflowers growing in my yard was something I was looking forward to as a visual of joy. They're my absolute favorites. 

Cut to yesterday. August something or other - it's all a blur at this point, am I right?

I've been the worst gardener this year because - Covid - 4 kids - Foster care - life. I actually made it out to the side of my house yesterday and was hoping to see some sunflowers. My surrounding neighbors have some beauties growing, let me tell you. 

I looked out toward the fence line and at first thought there was nothing there - not a sprout, not a hope, not even a chance. I looked again and saw this little guy. 

It was all tiny and low to the ground but it was a sunflower, nonetheless. 

One sunflower.

One, 1 foot tall, where's all the petals?, not near 6 feet or heading that way, sunflower. 

Can you feel my disappointment?

I was honestly mad. I was mad that I somehow failed to grow even sunflowers. I was mad that all my time has been eaten up and my introvert self can't even break away from things enough to handle her garden. I was mad that after planting so many seeds in 3 different areas in my yard, this. THIS! One itty bitty sunflower - what evidence of how pitiful this season has been. Right? 

No. Not at all right. Not even a little bit.  

My knee jerk reaction and frustration wasn't real - it was exaggerated. Grossly exaggerated.

I nearly missed the TRUTH that on my fence line was growing a sunflower. It was full of beautiful coloring and it was just the right size to bring inside and put in a vase. I also missed that on either side of it were smaller buds just waiting to bloom.  

I began to smile and I headed straight to the garage to get my pruning sheers. These beauties were going to come with me. I had waited so long to see them and see them I will. 

Ready for the lesson I learned by seeing? 

Planting seeds - doing the actual work of planting, watering, and waiting in anticipation is worth it no matter the size of the harvest. I had fully expected to see many, tall sunflowers. I had one tiny result. But without the work, I would have had nothing at all. I simply can't conclude that this beauty wasn't worth the work. 

Take this sunflower and apply this same thought to people. I can't conclude that all the work of pouring my heart, prayers, love, counsel into people isn't worth the work. I may hope for many, Big God results but even if all I can see is a short little beauty just sitting there being who they were made to be to the glory of God, regardless of my expectations, the effort is worth it. 

Isaiah 55:10-11 (ESV) "For just as rain and snow fall from heaven and do not return without watering the earth, making it bud and sprout, and providing seed to sow and food to eat, so My word that proceeds from My moth will not return to Me empty, but it will accomplish what I please, and it will prosper where I send it. "

Trusting God, who sends me out to lead worship or offer encouragement or smile at a stranger, means that I trust that He's in control. What I offer to Him in obedience will accomplish what He pleases. 

It's good to be hopeful and expecting of big things but it's important to be grateful for the small and good and imperfect.

I will remember this every time I look at these sweet sunflowers. 

~Amy

All of That For Just One? A Story of (Worth It) Work

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I am a Foster Mom.

Just typing those words makes me sit up a bit straighter and hold my head up. And is that because I'm so proud of myself? Ha! NO! It's because of the face I see in my mind when I say those words; the boy I have the privilege of caring for.

There was a time in my life when I complained about the loooooooong waiting process of becoming a foster mom. Twelve years ago, the hubster and I set it as a family mission - caring for a child from the foster care system. Twelve years ago, we thought we were ready. Twelve years ago, now almost 13, we had our first biological child and quickly learned we knew precious little about being parents.

The hubster and I spent time volunteering at summer camps for foster children. You all remember my posts about the things I was making for camp and my experiences there? Surely after all that exposure and training, we were ready. Right?

In the 12 years of waiting, we've been busy raising 3 beautiful kiddos of our own and made one giant leap from living in Michigan (where we were *this* close to being a licensed home) to living in Kentucky (where we had to begin the process again). We believed the entire time that WE WERE READY, ALREADY.

We received our foster care license in Kentucky and waited 7 months before we received a call for our first placement. This boy. This one we care for as if he were born to us. He came to us as a respite placement, meaning we were allowed to back out of the commitment after a weekend if we felt he was too much for us.




And I instantly fell in love.
And I instantly saw the amazing potential he had (if only he were encouraged).
And my heart has broken many, many times while learning who this boy is and what his life was before me.
And I dread the day I have to give him back but know I will send him back knowing he is loved.

This boy is proof that waiting is beneficial. Had we met him any sooner, we wouldn't have been ready. I can tell you, this boy deserves 12 years of waiting and growing on our part. He deserves the entire world if you can afford to give it.

I hope you all will welcome me back to this space of sharing my life and experiences with you. I hope you will all celebrate with me the new word I've added to my title of "Mom". Being a Foster parent has taught me so very, very much and I intend to share my heart and soul with you on that very topic.

Let's take this journey together, yes? We are not all meant to be Foster Parents but you are welcome to be a part of the village here. I welcome your questions, your advice, your encouragement, & your prayers.

~Amy

I Am A Foster Mom

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In the spring of this year, we looked up a rental home in an "out of the way" town for a family getaway. I loved it there. I loved how remote it was and how warm it was but I also really loved this little daisy tree that was sitting on the hearth inside the home. 

The daisy tree made me happy as soon as I saw it. These miniature daisy blooms danced all over and I just had to find one of my own. 

The host of our rental home left a print out of maps to local places we may need to visit during our stay. One of those places was a grocer/nursery. That had to be the place I could find a daisy tree. {There weren't many other choices, locally.}

My heart overflowed with smiles upon smiles when we made our way to that little shop and I found my daisy tree. I got to take a bit of my vacation home with me and enjoy the continued feelings of peace and joy it brought me. 

Only a few months after I brought it home, I realized every leaf on it was starting to turn brown. The tree had stopped blooming. Even the buds on the branches were dead. What happened? This tree was supposed to be blooming all throughout the summer. I was sincerely devastated. I thought I was caring for it the way the card instructed me to. 

One day, I sat on my porch and slowly turned the pot as I pruned, and pruned, and pruned away at the daisy tree. Anything dead was gently removed. I had to give this beautiful tree a chance to revive itself and taking off the dead leaves and buds was the only way to do that. 

I remember it so clearly. As I was carefully pruning the daisy tree, my youngest girl came up to me. 

She gasped, "Mom! No! You can't do that! You can't take off its flowers and leaves! It won't flower anymore if you do that."

I smiled and shook my head. "No, baby. That isn't right. This daisy tree isn't going to forget how to 'flower' if I take off the dead parts. It was designed to 'flower'. It doesn't know any other way to be."

She didn't really understand what I was saying but she trusted me anyway. 

The tree's very nature is to create miniature daisy blooms. It doesn't know how to do or be anything else. 

Friend? I began to realize after my little chat with my girlie that the same principle applies to me. Leaving "dead things" in my life - a relationship, a lie I've nurtured forever, a part of my character I've long outgrown - only gives the appearance of "growth". It's false hope. Sure, there may be tiny buds all over, but their brown color signifies that nothing will ever come of them. In fact, to leave something dead alone as if it will eventually bloom actually steals from the parts of me that are in fact alive and vibrant. It's unhealthy for the whole of me to leave those things there and allow them to take up space in my life. 

So I prune. I learn to say "No more" to those things that have got to finally be let go of. And yes, it's the recipe for creating a feeling of emptiness and vulnerability. But what comes of that? What do I gain for the pain of letting go of the dead things in my life?  New.Growth.  

I too have a unique nature about me. There's something I'm made to be and do and I can't help but be that. Holding on to browned leaves and dead buds will only hold me back from succeeding in my unique design.

I remember the morning I went to water my daisy tree and saw the first little buds growing again on the branches. I called my smallest one over. "Do you see? THIS is a daisy bloom! All of that dead stuff had to be removed for this to grow."

My heart nearly burst into a million pieces to see my little girl smile with excitement as she gently cupped the tiny bud in her hand. "Mommy! You were right! The daisy tree will flower now!"

And "flower" it does. It's the same in my life. The hardest, most painful "No more" pruning times are leading to new growth in me. I'm who I've always been but that is allowed to take shape in new and fresh ways now. 

How are you growing? Is it something you value? 

What are the dead things that have long needed to be pruned away?  Take a deep breath and a brave step with me today. Let.It.Go. so you can begin to bloom again. 

~Amy

The Daisy Tree Story

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I use my Thieves Household Cleaner from Young Living for everything I possibly can in my home. I use it to clean my glass, floors, tile, toilets...

I even use it to dust.

It's made up of Young Living's Thieves oil blend {Clove, Lemon, Cinnamon, Eucalyptus Radiata, and Rosemary essential oils} and smells heavenly while it works hard to be the only household cleaner you'll need. 

I hate to say this, mamas. Unfortunately, we all know it's true. That wonderful time of year has come when my kiddos are bringing home notes of the ick going around at school but I'd rather not grab chemical filled products to protect our immune systems. I have a fast and simple DIY for you! 

Thieves Household Wipes DIY

 What you'll need:

• 1 Tbsp Thieves Household Cleaner (One capful)
• 1 Cup distilled white vinegar
• 1 Cup distilled water
• 1 Roll paper towel 
• 1 Giant (butcher's) knife
• 1 Container to place your paper towel in. 

Starting with the paper towel roll, I simply cut it in half with the knife. I cut it straight through so I would have 2 equal halves when I was done.


You'll want to make sure that your paper towel roll will fit inside the container you want to use and that the top will go on. I found this container at The Dollar Tree and picked it up on a whim. I'm lucky it worked out to be the perfect size for me. 

Next, measure out 1 Cup of distilled white vinegar. Then in the same measuring cup, add 1 Cup of distilled water and one capful of Thieves Household Cleaner, mixing it all together. 

**We're using "distilled" because you'll be soaking paper towel in this and letting it sit in a closed container. I don't want you to find anything funky growing. Oh! And! If you boil tap water and let it come to room temperature on its own, that's essentially the same thing as distilled water you would purchase. **

**Also, as a side note, my hubster would prefer less of a vinegar smell the next time I make this. I may be using a bit less vinegar and a bit more water the next go-round...even though I don't think it smells that bad at all.**

Now it's time to prep your paper towel (half) roll. On the inside of the roll, remove the cardboard tube. Once this is gone, you'll see how you'll be able to pull your towels up from the middle. 

Place your paper towel roll into the container and pour the mixture over it. Then let it sit with the lid on so it can soak up all the liquid evenly.

And, voila! Your wipes are ready to use!! I'm thinking this is perfect for when my family goes camping...or really, any road trip. You never know when you'll need a wet wipe!

If you need your own Thieves Household Cleaner, I can help you! You can sign up to be a retail customer and order what you need when you need it. Or you can sign up to be a member {this option gives you a fancy discount to use always and as often as you like}. Hop over to my info page to find out more details or feel free to ask any questions in the comments below.

~Amy

**Marketing disclaimer: The link I share may be an affiliate link. I may collect payment from purchases made.
**Essential Oil Disclaimer:  The info I shared is based on my own research and experience(s) with Young Living Essential Oils. I am not a doctor. The FDA has not evaluated my statements, the products I've mentioned, or even the technique I use. Therefore, these statements are not made with intent to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any kind of ailment or disease. Please have a conversation with your doctor before introducing these if you are pregnant, nursing, taking medication, and/or have any kind of medical condition. 
I'm simply sharing information and my personal story for readers to use as a reference in a "take it or leave it" fashion. My hope is to motivate you in learning more about essential oils as they may pertain to your own life and/or family. Please do your research as you see fit. 

DIY: Chemical Free Household Cleaning Wipes {Tutorial}

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There was a strange energy in my house this morning. Something was on my son's mind and making him behave a bit differently than I'm used to. My 9 year old boy was diagnosed with ADHD a year ago and I know his behavior patterns pretty well. It seems that on the mornings when he just can't be still and needs to make noise for the sake of making noise and is more likely to run away from a crying sister he hurt than to her, there's something big on his mind that he doesn't know how to process. Be it good or bad, he reacts this same way most often.

Can I admit? I lose my patience with it sometimes. I get frustrated because I don't (and probably never fully will) understand why he does things the way he does. This morning I raised my voice at him and ended up looking him in the eye and apologizing to him, telling him I got it wrong...again...please forgive me.

He smiled at me and hugged me. He said "Of course I forgive you, mom" and then he squeezed my ribs way too tight (on purpose) and laughed a big laugh. I messed up his hair and helped him and his sisters gather their things and head into the truck so we could be on our way to school.

We arrived at school and I parked the truck. I have to walk my preschooler into the building so we skip the drop off line and head straight to the parking lot. As I turned off the truck I heard the *click* of seatbelts being unbuckled and heard my girls singing the song they enjoyed on the radio during our drive. I got out and shut my door, only to open the rear, driver side door and encourage the little hands to grab their backpacks and the little feet to make their way out of the backseat.

That's when I saw my boy in the back row with a panicked look on his face as he looked back and forth and over again. "I guess I forgot my backpack, mom!"

Let's pause my story right here for a moment. Remember with me the kind of morning we had. The boy who was so busy with being rambunctious, the boy who hurt his sister and ran away, the boy who I lost my patience with also was the boy who forgot his backpack. For a split second, I was tempted to let it be a built-in consequence. But then I looked at him and saw his face. And I heard him saying to himself "How could I do that? I'm so stupid". Yah...I was thinking those same things when I lost my temper earlier in the morning.

I extended my hand to him and said "Come on out, bud". As he took my hand and began to step out, his other hand was holding his head as he continued to mumble negative things to himself. I gave him a hug and told him that even if he had a rough morning, he could change all of that right that moment. I told him things could get better and encouraged him to try his best to have a good day.

And right then, I decided that this morning we had could be used to teach him an important lesson. He could learn about mercy.  (He was clearly beating himself up enough already over the responsibility portion of the situation).

The hubster and I try to extend mercy to our children when we can. Some situations need discipline, but others can be used to build up their character. I believe that it's up to myself and my husband to teach our children the character qualities we would hope develop and that means we must be intentional to capture those teachable moments.

And it's a simple thing, this backpack, but he's 9 and I hope he remembers this.

I said goodbye to each of my 3 kiddos and got back in my truck and just kept thinking this word, "Mercy", over and over in my mind. How do I help him learn about mercy when a backpack drop-off would probably be best done if I didn't take him from his class and make it bigger than it needed to be? What is true about mercy for me that I want him to grasp for himself?

I'm a mom who makes mistakes but I'm a mom who believes that God is a merciful God. He has shown mercy to me many more times than I can count...even when I was off doing my own thing and thinking that He had probably forgotten about me. I promise you, I can look back through my life and see that even though there were hard times and pain, there were times when I didn't get what I necessarily deserved but I was given mercy...undeserved mercy.

After arriving home and grabbing his backpack, I whipped up this note and grabbed a clothespin to attach it. The note read "God's mercy is bigger than any mistake you make." This is what I took to his school office and they said they would get it to him.

 This doesn't make me a super, amazing mother. This isn't to make any other mom feel bad about a time when she may have missed the mark. Please believe me when I say I miss the mark many more times than I hit it. This post is not about "Hey, look at me! Mom of the year, over here!". No.

This post is about a way I chose to handle something with my son and I hope you can see yourself in this story. That mercy I want him to learn about so badly is because I want him to grow to be a merciful person - just like I want to continue to grow in being a merciful person. How many times has mercy been extended to you? Those times are the places when you were loved so much. And not only that - God DELIGHTS in showing us mercy. (Micah 7:18)

~Amy

A Mom Who Makes Mistakes

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