I'll Never Be a "Jones"....

It's safe to say that the adage of "keeping up with the Jones'" doesn't exist around here.

In fact, they bypassed us eons ago. But, if I'm being totally honest, that's how we like it.

We traded corporate paychecks for time together.

We traded coffee shop lattes for freshly brewed coffee at the kitchen table.

We traded business attire for overalls and cowboy boots.

We traded hefty 401K's for a modest paycheck that pays the bills.

We traded dinners out to eat for homemade meals 3 times a day, 7 days a week.

 And while I commend those who go after and attain the things they desire, we are focused on one thing: how we spend our time. The number one regret people have is not having enough time to spend with loved ones, or pursue a passion, or achieve a dream. So while the outside world may look on and wonder why we chose this life, the answer is simple: we enjoy our time. 

I spend every day alongside my husband (and no, we don't drive each other nuts :) ). I work from home, and he goes to school from home. We farm here at home. We go to town when necessary, and usually together. Our dream is being lived out on this piece of Heaven on earth, and we willingly give the time necessary to cultivate and grow those dreams. 

We only have so many trips around the sun, and we plan on spending each one of those side by side, walking the road less traveled, hand in hand. 

We stop to enjoy the roses, after all, there's plenty of time.

To My Buddy

With just an hour left on his birthday, I sit down to strike away at the keys and etch in time, a year's worth of memories, moments of laughter, and heartfelt embraces, all from a little 2 year old.

Only now my son, you aren't so little.

I choke back tears, looking in awe at the little man you are today. I fight the tears, because there are Mama's and Dada's who don't know what it feels like to have to arms swing open with wild abandon and clench around your neck so tight, that the air escapes your lungs, and for a moment you are left breathless not by the impact, but by the fact that this small person, this once tiny infant, loves you that much.

My son, I love you that much.

I love the fact that come morning I know you will search the house and find your new toy airplanes and trucks opened today, but you will be wild with excitement tomorrow when you realize that they are, in fact, yours to keep. I love that you were happy to play in the field, and that we played cowboys and indians, with Grandma and Grandpa right there. I love that tomorrow we are extending the celebrating, and embracing another opportunity to encompass a full day about you. 

You have a tenacity for life, an inability to believe you can't do everything. You look towards the Heavens, and I know you know God. He has given you a stubborn streak a mile wide, but one that I find refreshing. You believe in yourself and you believe in those around you. I can feel you pressing me forward when I want to give up, a head-strong reminder that there is someone out there believing in me and always cheering me on. You test boundaries and push limits, but you do so, because you believe you can do more. That somehow everything will work out. Never lose that, it is a trait most adults forget about, but faith in your abilities and in yourself is priceless.

You are now two years old. I could say it flew by, but the truth is, I can't remember life before you. And I don't want to.

You are such a part of this family, a piece to the puzzle, that I find myself, praying for morning just to have more time with you. Your dad and I, will fail time and time again to convey how much we love you, and how proud we are of you. You are the gift we thank the Heavens for everyday. And tomorrow when we celebrate another day of you, I will take a moment and fight back the tears, wondering how on earth I deserve you.

Being your Mama is an honor.....

And I will love you forever, promise promise.