Take It From Tina

I don't know why I thought I was going to roast a turkey this Thanksgiving. My picture-perfect holiday wasn't happening and I was on the verge of a major breakdown (Pathetic much, really? Why do we care so much, ladies?!) My husband spent the prior weekend in the hospital with what we thought was a ruptured appendix and we both hadn't eaten any real food in three days. It gave a whole new meaning to skinny, but in a bad way. After a steady diet of chicken broth and jello, changing the bed sheets in my son's nursery what seemed like every night, and hyper-disinfecting every nook and cranny in our house, it hit me. Thanksgiving is not for gratitude. Yes, I repeat: Thanksgiving is not the only day we should be grateful. At my lowest points, I am reminded to chose an "attitude of gratitude" as my pastor puts it. When everything is against me, I can put my faith on display rather than my anxieties and fears. "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courage...

I yelled at my husband this week. For coughing. And for being sick because it woke Ezra and I up in the middle of the night. One of those nights when you pray your child can make it at least four hours without waking up because you NEED sleep. And then in my craziness, I stopped, cried, and thought how could I be so shallow? My overscheduled life had overtaken my day to day relationships that I was snapping at my husband for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Soon after I asked him to forgive me, I took a few moments to recollect my thoughts before heading into work that next morning and realized what had happened: the disease of being busy was taking place right in front of my eyes. I lost my temper over something so incredibly mundane because I had allowed my life to be consumed with to-do lists; I yelled at my husband, and it broke my heart. Do you ever have interactions with people when you ask how they are doing, and they respond, "I am good, just really busy..."? Th...

It is supposed to snowing in the mountains today and slushy snowflakes landed in Tacoma about an hour ago. Did I forget to mention that it's only the first weekend in November people?! I am one of those obnoxious Christmas music lovers (haters, beware). As soon as Thanksgiving hits, it's Christmas decor and a Michael Buble holiday playlist for this girl. I think what I love most about this time of year is the coziness of it all: cooler weather, crackling fireplaces, fluffy socks, and the hearty smells of a Crock Pot meal warming a home. Kind of a nostalgic notion I know, but I was nonchalantly browsing through my Facebook memories today and this hit me. Exactly one year ago, we were four months pregnant with our baby bear the last time time it felt like this outside. Garrett and I called him baby bear even though we hadn't discovered the sex until Thanksgiving eve. In my heart, I knew my baby was a boy and my husband believed he would be wide receiver. He posted every Sunda...