An Unscheduled Moment

My children invented a game, this morning, which involved the little one pushing the big one out into the rain, dissolving in fits of laughter and repeating. I was drawn away from the kitchen to the intoxicating sound of their joy.

In my experience, creative, spontaneous play unfolds organically when children are given large amounts of unscheduled time to follow the whims of their developing brain in a safe and familiar location, like their own home. 

In spite of my strong commitment spontaneous expression, I constantly find myself feeling pressured by "schedule," "measuring my worth by production" and "number of organized activities," values highly revered by American culture. Certainly schedules, goal setting, planned activities and production have their place and have the potential to facilitate a certain amount of joy and satisfaction, but every human needs a balance of scheduled time and unplanned time. Some of us are designed to flourish in a more structured environment and some of us are designed to flourish in a less structured environment.

I'm still learning who my children are and what they need as individuals, but I know I myself thrive on large amounts of unplanned space to create and follow an unseen "flow." Perhaps it could be called an "unseen structure." In spite of this self awareness, I spend far too much time chasing satisfaction from rigid models of daily life. Today the example of my children, and their deep notes of delight in surprise creativity, beckoned me back home.

I welcome you to delay your next activity by another 39 seconds, walk into my home through this one minute video and relive this unplanned moment with me.....

Daily Sink Baths - Tiny Living

If I feed her, she can sit anywhere. If she feeds herself wet cereal, she must sit in the sink and end with a sink bath. We actually use the sink for the three year old as well. She still prefers baths over showers and there is no bathtub in this particular RV or most RVs. But the unusual thrill of a sink bath is not lost on either of my baby girls! This fun event also serves as an opportunity for me to complete tasks in the kitchen while they still feel like they are "with me."

Experience our stunning week in Asheville!  click here 

Always Moving - Always at Home - We are now RVing!

Have you ever heard the saying, "Not all those who wander are lost?"
As I write to you today, I am in an RV, traveling down the road with my husband, toddler and infant. This mobile moving vehicle is, for the next four months, our only home. And we planned it this way!

How did we get here.

Some people are meant to live in one house or one town for a lifetime. There are pleasures that can only be experienced by staying for decades, such as watching one tree start from a sapling and grow for 70 years. Nothing can replace the knowledge and expertise about the culture and rhythms of one location available only in the brain of someone who has lived there 50 years, except maybe someone who has lived there 100 years.

In 2016, in the United States, I do not often bump into someone who has lived in one location for 70 years or more. When I do meet these people, I am fascinated. Talking for only a few minutes, I find these are deeply interesting people.

Most of my friends, and most of the people I read or hear about, fall into a second category. They move a handful of times during their lifetime. Typically they have one or two childhood homes, another home (or dorm) in a college town, and three more homes throughout the remainder of their life. I have spent my first 37 years of life primarily hanging out with these type of people.

Then there is a third group of people; people I bump into as rarely as the first group; these folks move or travel constantly. I am not fascinated by those who live this lifestyle and hate it and feel trapped by it or do it because they are running from life's problems. I am fascinated by those who have intentionally embraced this lifestyle and are genuinely happy living it. This is the group of people who fascinate me more than anyone. Maybe it's because I want to be like them. Or maybe I feel a unique connection with them because my soul was born to be part of this group.

I started my life deeply upset by change. From age one to four I lived in a green house with my parents. My sister was born and a year later we moved to a bigger house across town, a pretty white house with black shutters. At first I thought the move was exciting, but within a few days I realized we were never going back to the green house and I went into a state of mourning. For weeks I visited Mom and Dad's upstairs bedroom to gaze out the window longingly at the roof of our old house, which I could see across town. I remember the pain of this distinctly. The confusion. The disillusionment. Mom claims I rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in my child size rocker, searching for comfort. As time went on, I learned to love my new home. We stayed for 13 years. By the time we left that house, I felt ready to go. I was 17, reaching adulthood, ready for new adventure. But the girl in the rocking chair was not gone. I still had a deep desire to find a place my soul most connected with and put down roots and build a home for life. At 24, I sobbed my heart out when my husband's job moved us for the third time in 3 years. 

Today I can say we have moved 12 times in 15 years together. It wasn't until a year and a half ago I finally realized I was living the life of a gypsy and I actually like this life. (See September 2014 post) Instead of feeling trapped in this lifestyle or pushing hard to change it, my heart finally embraced it... or at least part of it. For me, when I'm constantly on the move, setting up and tearing down in big stationary houses is frustrating and feels like a waste of time. Thus, we are headed towards making our nomadic life more efficient.

We sold our house in Alabama a month ago. A few days later we bought a house in Virginia, where we will live for four years while Chris gets his PHD at Virginia Tech. While embracing the nomadic life, simultaneously we are making changes to build a healthier lifestyle for children, meaning less work related travel separating us and more travel together as a family. We bought an RV and are hitting the road for 4 months! Our dream is to eventually take a year off from work to travel the country. For now we are starting with four months. If we love it as much as we expect, we will hop in our mobile home every summer during school break and explore everything possible. The ironic reality is, by embracing the nomadic lifestyle, we have finally come "home." There is now more potential for a sense of permanent residence in this "home" which moves with us, intact, wherever we go. After years of moves, paring down a little more each time, we have finally pared down (almost) enough for full time RV life.  My dream is full time RVing, working on the road. For now it is part time. Somehow, by sheer luck and blessing, I happened to marry a guy who shares these dreams even though we never discussed it before marriage. Our attraction was pretty basic 21 year old priorities.

Chris and I have been living the life of nomads, for 15 years, without aiming to and without knowing what this type of life is all about and how to flourish in it. Career just kept sending us somewhere new. It's about time we learned how to make the best of who we are and what we've been given. 

Our intention is to learn over the next few years and beyond. For example, we've all been told humans need community to thrive. What does community look like when you frequently move and travel? What do you do when you love to plant a garden, but you're never home long enough to see the entire process through from planting to harvest? These are questions we will be exploring along the way, over the next few years. Please join me on this journey. Be part of my community. Please? I need you. Read, write, post comments, etc. Give advice if you have experience with this lifestyle.

I've always been perplexed by that phrase on mugs and bumper stickers, "Not all those who wander are lost." I think I understand now; I am a wanderer and I feel more sense of "belonging" in the last month, with this identity and in my new mobile home, than I ever have in my entire life.  

As a teenager, I confided to my Dad that I felt "lost." I couldn't explain why and he didn't question me or try to fix it. He seemed to understand what I meant even though he didn't have a solution for me.  

I no longer belong to any one city or state, but Dad... I'm no longer lost. 

Everyday Glory

My last post was about the importance of the present moment.  Today I want to talk about the sheer joy of having eyes to see something Holy and special in the plain and simple.  We are having one of those moments right now at our house.  Actually, a whole day filled with those moments.  I don't think I would have seen all of this today if I had not been staying present first.

After playing together for a while, we began to play separately.  My almost-3-year-old wandered off and returned to create the above scene.  It could be hard to see something special in the greater context of this general mess...  I could have focused on all the work she and I will have to do to straighten this later.  I could have let it make me feel tired and overwhelmed.

I also could have focused on the fact that she was playing with my electric candles from the bathroom.  I could have been bothered by her "messing" with my stuff.

Instead, it occurred to me that this moment was Holy.  As my worship music played in the background on my I-Phone, she was following my lead, in her own way, entering into the spirit of the moment.  I was offering my own gift of love to God, giving Him attention in the middle of my day and my own mess.  Music is my fastest doorway to seeing the Presence of God all around me.  She was entering the spirit of the moment in her own way, bringing gifts to present to me and her sister. 

I'm so glad I saw this moment and accepted it.  I took the candle-toy creation she offered.  We each held our own candle-toy creation up and offered it to the Lord.  Our typical morning worship through song became multi layered and even more beautiful with Samantha's added offering.  Annabelle, three months old, too small to hold anything, but there was a candle in front of her nonetheless.

Some people do Advent candles during the holidays.  Occasionally I've thought of participating.  I might not feel the need to do it this year.  My heart is full of these candles and this moment.  It may just carry me through the next two months without the time, energy and thought it takes to intentionally create traditions.  It's a good time for me to be unburdened by traditions.  A time when it's taking most of my energy to sustain the life of a three month old and attend the needs of an energetic little girl.

I wish each one of you had been here to experience this moment with us.  But we are here and you are there.  At your desk, at a stop light, on your couch, in a waiting room, you name it... wherever you are, I'm calling you, drawing you in through the Internet, to join me.  What moment are you experiencing right now?  If you are feeling uninspired and cynical, stop everything you are doing for 3 minutes.  No matter how important your current task is.  Especially if you current task is important!  Stop everything for 3 minutes and ask Him to open your eyes and your heart.

A Life on the Move - Searching for Home

Weather is finally cooling here in Alabama.  Autumn is truly here, my favorite time of year! when I can open the windows and invite fresh air into my home.  It's exactly what I've waited for all summer, and tomorrow I'm leaving this gloriousness and moving to Florida for two months.  We are doing this for several reasons, work included.
A month ago, if you suggested I move to Florida for two months, I would have rejected it outright. My home is currently in Alabama.  For twenty years I have searched for a place to call home and now that I've finally found it, I don't want to leave.  Or so I thought.  

A few weeks ago, during a visit to Florida, I lay on my back at the end of yoga class and thought to myself, "wouldn't it be really great to move back and stay here for a few months?"  In that moment, I realized I still feel at home in Florida.  A few hours later I received a call and learned I would indeed be forced to move back to Florida for two months.  On my back, in a quiet moment on a wooden floor, perhaps it was the Spirit giving me an idea, preparing me for the coming news, letting me feel like it was my own idea.

A new way of life has been stirring in my heart.  For twenty years I have searched for a place to settle down and never leave, my heart yearning for a sense of belonging.  My heart still yearns.  Yet I'm making peace with the idea that some people are meant to live in one place for a lifetime and some people are meant to wander.  I thought I was the type to settle and now I'm learning that I'm meant to travel.  This explains why I felt at home in ALL the places I've lived: Vermont, Virginia, Colorado, Destin Florida, Orlando Florida, Switzerland and Alabama.  It also explains why I have always felt the urge to move on at some point.  

I always say that my true home is not of this world.  My home resides in the spiritual realm and I think I'm embracing this reality on a new level.  I was holding onto another person's ideal that did not belong in my own life and it was weighing me down.  I thought everyone needed roots to be healthy. But maybe my roots come from another Source.

Therefore, after a three month period of writer's block, as I sit down to write to you again, it seems fitting that the name of my blog has changed... again.  I am now writing to you from, Deep Scent of Jasmine: Life of a Homemaker Searching for Home.  This is the blog of a woman who will build a new nest many, many times throughout her life, continually seeking ways to change and grow.  She will always be at home and she will always be on her way Home.

As we speak, I am writing to you from my backyard patio.  This is my favorite place in the house.  It is where my almost two year old and I eat breakfast every morning, weather allowing.  She eats and plays while I drink my morning tea and slowly wake up.  I took the following photo of her this morning from this spot.  We will miss our big green lawn in Alabama, but we plan to return.  Perhaps Samantha was having a chat with Tigger about our upcoming move.  Perhaps she was preparing his heart for it.

A Day of Recovery

Today was a day of recovery.  Many recoveries....
It was our first day home as a family after two weeks away.
It was the day we went to the doctor and learned that our 18 month old has clean lungs. After a 5 week battle, she is Pneumonia free!
It was the day our beloved dog, Tigger, escaped, ran away, and was miraculously recovered 3 hours later, without a collar and tag, by my husband, who merely happened to drive by and see a saint of a woman already posting lost and found pictures.

Most importantly, it is the day I have found renewed strength, love and energy for raising my whiny, yet sweet and adorable, treasure of a child. My husband surprised me last week with a weekend getaway all by myself while he babysat. It was my first overnight away from my baby and, at nearly 18 months since her birth, it was much needed.  I have come home eager to spend as many hours and days as possible with her.

And last, but not least, it is the day my small herb and vegetable garden revived after near death.  These poor infant tomato and basil plants wilted badly during my two weeks away. Apparently I didn't leave them enough water in the basin. Thankfully, a little water and love has worked a miracle.

It is life expanding and necessary to travel, but there is no place like home.  Tonight I am thankful for my home, my life as a homemaker, and all the recoveries of the day which made my home buzz and come to life again.

Magazine Review - life:beautiful

My favorite magazine is considering going all digital online.  This is not simply my favorite magazine.  It is the ONLY magazine I read.  I'm a slow reader.  As a homemaker with a zillion hobbies, I don't have time for more than one magazine.  This one is perfect.  It's published seasonally, four times per year.

I LOVE this magazine.  When I learned that the changing world of print media may be forcing them to change with the times and quit printing and move to all digital format, I nearly croaked.  I love the Internet for certain things, but I also love holding beautiful print material in my own two hands as I read the life giving words and absorb the food and colors and ideas splashed across the page.  It is a rare delight and I will go into mourning if life:beautiful magazine stops arriving in my mailbox with the onset of each new season.

Therefore, I am spreading the word!  life:beautiful will continue to arrive in mailboxes across the globe if enough people express interest and subscribe.

This magazine is like a Good Housekeeping and Travel magazine and Christian Living magazine all rolled into one.  If this sounds wonderful to you, please click the link below.  Subscribe and spread the word.
This magazine has touched my life.  Not only has it inspired new recipes on my table, but there have been days when I was spiritually drooping and life:beautiful re-connected me to the Lord Himself.
Click below and see for yourself.....

http://www.lifebeautifulmagazine.com/

Birthday Baby

This post is intended to celebrate my daughter's first year of life and celebrate the Joy mothers everywhere take in expressing our gratitude and immense delight in our children.  We express this sentiment in many different ways.  Some of us spend hours before a birthday crafting the most adorable cake our hearts can conjure.  Others are overwhelmed by cakes and crafting and all things Pinterest and that's OK.  Instead they find countless other ways throughout the year to build a cozy nest for themselves and their families and to express delight in the husbands or children or extended family God gave them.  We ALL have this sentiment within us.  We all find various ways to express it, with or without extravagant homemade cakes. 

May I present to you: Samantha's first birthday.  The following was my humble attempt to celebrate the gift Samantha is to me, in as grand a way as I am able.  It was not as grand as some.  But I hope someday, when Samantha looks at these pictures, I hope she will feel loved.  I hope she will know that she is important to her parents and to God.
And today, I hope God looks down and is pleased by two hearts overflowing with gratitude for the child He sent into their lives.

Her first year has been a blast.

 Zoo Animals!  Theme chosen by Samantha's Daddy.

Fondant cake toppers, molded by her Mommy and Aunt Megan

Each child got a cupcake to eat and destroy

There was a baby safe food table (pictured) and an adult food table (not in the picture)

Paper balls hung from ceiling, (found at Walmart)

Party favor bags and 1 year old safe party favor toys (also at Walmart)



What sort of game can 1 year olds play at a birthday party???  Hit the helium balloons! 



Waiting for the presentation of the cupcakes

It was a hit.  No need for pink strawberry cake inside.  The icing was her only interest.  Praise God for Oxy Clean.  The shirt can still be worn again.

Cozy round the fireplace



Samantha's favorite gift?  A yellow duck puppet

Becoming Like Grandma

After a 3 month silence, I have returned to you.  When I write these posts, I envision us all gathered round in a circle, sitting in the grass, with a forest behind us, warm cups of coffee or tea in our hands, like some sort of hippy gathering, as we share our stories.  I guess I had to get up and leave the circle for a while.  I needed time to grieve the passing of my grandmother.  This is the first truly painful loss I've ever experienced, and I'm learning that I handle grief with silence.

Grandma was.....

well, nothing I could say could sum it up or feel right to me.  Furthermore, to write a tribute to her would be to say that she is gone.  It would feel like I am trying to tie up something that is not finished.  I do believe she is still alive, just on the other side of a great curtain and that I will see her again one day.  So instead of writing one big epic post about how much she means to me, (because she means a great deal) perhaps her influence and memories will appear occasionally in my writings for the rest of my life.

Like me, Grandma was a homemaker.  Perhaps it is because she made this lifestyle look so desirable that I chose this path.

Homemaking covers many topics.  We could discuss so many things.  We could discuss our move into a house with a yard and a fence and all the joys of building my new nest.  But we'll save that for another day.  Today I want to talk about motherhood again.

It's really no surprise to me that the topic breaking my silence is the topic of motherhood.  Truly, it is currently my favorite subject.  It consumes nearly every waking minute of my life right now and I'm even on duty in my sleep!  A nine month old is an all consuming joy.

Yesterday a friend wrote and reminded me that it is OK to admit that motherhood is hard.  I needed to be reminded.

I knew this in the beginning when my baby was a newborn.  It's just so obvious how hard it is and most people don't try to do more than is reasonable at that point.  We are all given a pass when the baby is only two weeks old.  It's later, when things get a little easier and our capacity increases, and we get carried away and then crash and then feel lost because we no longer have any idea where our new limitations are.

I'm in that stage where my baby is sleeping a little longer and I'm finally getting a decent night's sleep.  (Not an amazing night's sleep, but a decent night's sleep.)  I assumed this meant I would immediately start feeling better and well rested for the first time in ten months.  Not the case!  Apparently one or two normal nights of sleep is not enough to heal ten months of sleep deprivation.  No, it actually is making me feel worse for a little while, my body craving MORE, MORE, MORE.  In a way, it was easier to run on insufficient sleep.  The body simply shuts down the call for sleep and functions without it for a season.  Reawaken that beast and watch out! 

I've never heard mothers talk about this stage, but apparently I'm in a season of recovery and it doesn't happen overnight.

To make it more complicated, sometime in the past month I was bit by the bug that says I need to accomplish MORE than simply raising a child.  What a joy killer.  To raise a child is an all-consuming task. Joyful, yet all consuming.  I know it is all consuming and yet I have to be reminded.  Why do I quickly forget?

Maybe every mother has a tendency to forget?  Maybe all Americans try to see how much they can accomplish?  Like it's a badge of our value as humans?  Is this why people keep passing me in the street saying, "they grow up so fast!  Enjoy it!"  As well-meaning as this is, I wish they would stop.  I am keenly aware that Samantha is growing fast and soon she will grow up and be gone.  It's a painful thought.  If I think about it too much, it will ruin the beauty of the moment.  Trying too hard to enjoy something can, in itself, rob any possibility of enjoying it.  On the other hand, by not trying hard enough, we can also miss enjoyment, so I can't fault those ladies for their mantra.  It's just that I'm the mother who needs to be reminded that she will be a BETTER MOTHER if she spends time away from her baby occasionally.  I'm the one wanting to spend every minute with her, kissing her and enjoying her, not wanting to miss a minute of her short time with me, but at the same time CRAVING, NEEDING time alone and having a hard time taking it.  The one exception is when she is with her Daddy.  I have no problem walking away and not looking back and not thinking about her when I leave her with him.  I am at complete peace in those times because I know she is having a blast and he is having a blast and he and I are so bonded, when she is with him, I feel she is still with me.  Anyone who has a marriage like this is blessed.  But I digress.  The point is, I need to take time away from my greatest joy occasionally, so I can continue to enjoy her.

It's ok to say that motherhood is hard. It's even good and necessary to admit it.  But it's way more fun to talk about how amazing and wonderful motherhood is.  The joy makes all the hard worth it.  At 9 months old, it's just now getting really fun.  It has been fun, but it's getting even more fun.  Like sitting on the kitchen floor together every morning, sharing a bowl of oatmeal from the same spoon.  Or popping bubbles in the kiddie pool out back.  Or listening to Hakuna Matata from the Lion King seven times in a row just so we can bop our heads and hands to the music.  These things are the heart of homemaking.  We stay home so we can do these things together.  That is what Grandma taught me.

Yesterday my Mom asked if I remembered the time we visited the Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream factory... the time we all nearly wet our pants laughing because Grandma got slobbered on by a cow as she tried to help us kids feed the cows in the Ben and Jerry's pasture.  The amazing bit is that she hated all things farm related.  She grew up on a farm and wanted nothing to do with it.  Yet she did it for us.  She was always a good sport.  Willing, in her 60's to ride a thrill ride with me, a 10 year old, when the circus came to town.  Speaking of the circus, she always made sure my sister and I each got our OWN cotton candy when she was buying.  An incredible luxury.  But again, I digress.  I only vaguely remember the incident at Ben and Jerry's, but it illustrates what I do remember about her.  She was always on the floor with us, doing things in our world on our level, yet at the same time, raising us up, inspiring us to join her on her level, in her world.  Come to think of it, isn't that what Christ did for us on the cross and the Holy Spirit continues to do for us every day.  He comes down to our level and enters our world to raise us up with Him to Divine Glory. 

Whether Grandma knew it or not, she was imitating Christ for us.  And this is the heart of homemaking; to imitate Christ every day.  Many of us have heard this over and over in Sunday school;  the goal in every area of life is to imitate Christ.  Yet Grandma made it look like a joy instead of a burden.  She did it without broadcasting that this was the purpose of her actions.  Indeed, it is only dawning on me now how successful she was at things others read book after book and blog after blog, seeking to become.  Perhaps, sometimes, in trying too hard, we miss the whole thing.  She wasn't into reading Christian self-help books.  For her, simply presenting a sincere heart, a willingness to serve and a humble spirit, was enough to make her legendary in the eyes of all who knew her.

I seek to be like her, even now, when she is no longer a phone call away, but separated from me by a Holy curtain.  I hope to see her again one day.  In the meantime, I will continue to eat oatmeal on the kitchen floor with my daughter, like she would have done.

Homemaking - My Choice

As I said, there is a baby in this story...

Two nights before her delivery, I was awake at 4 am, sitting on a big blue exercise ball, trying to stay comfortable through contractions.  The following journal entry is what poured forth from my pen that night. This was the night I re-connected with my life as a homemaker in a deep way.

December 5, 2012 – 4:30 am

It’s in a moment like this that it becomes crystal clear to me that the life I have chosen for myself is exactly the one I believe is my personal calling.

The countercultural nature of my lifestyle has tempted me to insecurity many, many times.  I defend myself, I hide myself, or I try to compete with other people by rules that don’t apply to me, rules set by a very different lifestyle choice.

Tonight I am proud of my decisions and I vow never again to apologize for them or hide them.  I will celebrate this life.

I was a single woman with no job outside the home.  I was provided for financially by my father.  I learned the art of homemaking from my mother and I learned to care for children.  My time was free to pursue any project inside or outside the home to be productive.  Work was a value and laziness was not excused.  Yet this type of work was flexible.  I could put down a current project at a moment’s notice to serve other people, especially other women.  At 17 I spent 5 weeks in the home of a woman who just gave birth and was unusually sick.  Her husband was also sick and she had 6 children to manage.  I went to her side to help her for over a month.  This is only one example out of dozens where I was free to serve when others were tied down by careers.

If society does not create at least a certain percentage of women, like me, to do this type of work, who will do it?  A paid nanny or paid companion?  Few can financially afford such a luxury.  And will a nanny or companion, trained only in a classroom, be as good as a woman who lived and breathed this lifestyle from girlhood?

I’m married now.  I’ve been married for 12 years without children.  Part of the philosophy behind a life of homemaking and serving during my single years was to prepare me to be a wife and mother.  When I didn’t become a mother soon after marriage, I often lost perspective and wondered if I should have pursued a career to “stay busy.”  I could have had any job I wanted.  I was a smart child.  I could have gone to college to be a lawyer or a nurse or a business owner.  I had the brains for any of those options.  But that is not the life I chose.  At a young age, I saw the value of a homemaker and I embraced the training my parents and others were willing to give me.  I could blame my parents for “pushing me into this lifestyle,” but I can’t do that.  Plenty of other girls were encouraged by their parents to live the life of homemaking I was living and many girls chose not to go this route.  The choice was mine. 

I could have pursued a career and I might have enjoyed it very much.  But if I had pursued a career, I would not have been free to serve the people I have served as a married woman without children these last 12 years.  Tonight, my only regret is that I didn’t serve more people and make the most of the time.  I regret the times I spent feeling lost and useless and paralyzed.

I am about to have a baby.  I will still be able to live this life of homemaking and serving other women, but my time will be more limited than before.  I am now the woman in need rather than the woman who is free to go.

Tonight I am lonely.  I'm wishing there was a single woman in my community who would come and sit by my side as I go through the days and days and night after long night of childbirth pains that lead up to final labor… or even a married woman to at least sit with me during the day while our husbands are at work. 

Where are these women?

Our society has eliminated most of them.

Let me say that I fully support and applaud women who's heart's desire is to work outside the home with a vibrant career. I'm grateful we live in a day and age when women are respected and free to do so.  At this point, the problem isn't that women who want a career can't have one.  At this point, our challenge, as a culture, is to make sure women who chose homemaking feel equally productive and respected even though their productivity is measured differently than in the corporate world.

I want to end by saying thank you to Jaime and Amanda; two women who were there for me at the hospital during the most challenging moments of my entire life.  Jaime is a homemaker with 4 children.  Amanda is currently staying home with a 7 month old baby boy.  That night, these women embodied the true spirit of homemaking and women helping women.