• Home
  • About
  • SHOP
    • Oils
    • Amazon
    • Free People
    • Rugs USA
  • Recipes


        • Recipe

        • Appetizers
        • Main Dish
        • Salads
        • Sides
        • Desserts
        • Drinks + Smoothies
        • Recent Posts

          • Convention Recap

            Convention Recap

            June 30, 2022
        • Recent Posts

          • Grandma’s Authentic Tomatillo Salsa Recipe

            Grandma’s Authentic Tomatillo Salsa Recipe

  • Wellness


        • Wellness

        • beauty
        • self care
        • kiddos
        • essential oils
          • Well-Being Daily Practices (Recorded Call)

            Well-Being Daily Practices (Recorded Call)

          • Convention Recap

            Convention Recap

  • Life


        • Life

        • love
        • grow
        • learn
        • live
        • Favorites

          • Women On Top Podcast Interview on Grief with Tammin Sursok and Roxy Manning

            Women On Top Podcast Interview on Grief with Tammin Sursok and Roxy Manning


          • Our Love Story: Part 12, Through Ben’s Eyes

            Our Love Story: Part 12, Through Ben’s Eyes

  • Make


        • Make

        • celebrate
        • craft
        • nest
        • style
          • HALLOWEEN PARTY ROUNDUP

            HALLOWEEN PARTY ROUNDUP

          • Fun Gift Wrapping Ideas and Inspiration

            Fun Gift Wrapping Ideas and Inspiration

  • Contact

Little Miss Momma

grow

Dreading Bedtime

June 13, 2011
Baby W works on mastering his pouty face–he has become an expert.
Today’s post inspired by Casey’s touching words yesterday.
Every night,
and I mean every night for the last two years,
at around 10 pm I start to dread my impeding bedtime.
Because I know that going to bed means another evening of unrest.
Of getting kicked in the face 20 or so times.
Of stopping a sleep-walking baby from roaming throughout the house.
Of tucking and re-tucking him in over a dozen times.
Of getting awoken at that very moment that my body starts to finally enter the REM cycle.
I close my laptop around 12 or 1 am,
grab a glass of water,
kiss the sleeping hubby on the cheek
and crawl into a bright red race car bed
next to a snoring babe.
I place a diaper at arms length
for a certain middle of the night change,
adjust the pillows just right,
and make sure the taggies on his blanket
are within reach of his little fingers.
And then I say a silent prayer,
that maybe tonight will be different.
Maybe tonight will be the night that things get better.
I say Amen,
roll over so his chubby cheeks are less than an inch from mine
and inhale deeply.
I love the way he smells.
like a baby.
like possibility.
like hope.
like my son.
I smile and give him a series of light kisses all over his face.
Then I pull his body in closer
wrap my arms around him,
and thank God for these moments.
So what if I failed at the Cry It Out Method,
or didn’t take the Baby Whisperer’s advice.
Because moments like these are fleeting.
Moments where he lets me play with his hair,
and enjoys getting a thousand kisses,
and wants me cuddling next to him at all times.
In these moments, I remember why it’s okay to be tired.
Why it’s okay to sometimes break the “rules of parenting”.
Why the small moments matter the most…
…and then I do my best to embrace them.
…although a full nights sleep would be nice.

Top Mommy Blogs - Mom Blog Directory

63 Comments
Share
Ashley Stock

I'm Ashley. Sometimes I craft, occasionally I cook, everyday I write, and I'm always Momma. This is my blog. I keep it real while still seeing the rainbows and butterflies in all of life's lessons.

You May Also Like

Lil W Visits Santa

December 20, 2011

Halloween Recap

November 6, 2012

Give Me a Caption Please

January 26, 2011
  • Free Pretty Things For You
    June 13, 2011

    Ariel still doesnt sleep through the night either 🙁
    Have you tried Huggies night time diapers? I used to have to do a middle of the night diaper change too but these things dont leak! awesome find.

    xoxo
    Keren

    Reply
    • jual besi beton murah
      Free Pretty Things For You
      March 22, 2016

      Good luck 🙂

      Reply
  • Free Pretty Things For You
    June 13, 2011

    Ariel still doesnt sleep through the night either 🙁
    Have you tried Huggies night time diapers? I used to have to do a middle of the night diaper change too but these things dont leak! awesome find.

    xoxo
    Keren

    Reply
  • Jennifer
    June 13, 2011

    Oh Ashley, I failed at those things too. My two year old still sleeps in our bed. He has terrible sleeping habbits, I think mostly due to his Hydro, but anyway. Don't worry. Our kids won't be a bad sleepers forever. I mean, it's not like they'll be asking us to sleep with them when they're 12. Right? Right? Someone tell me they won't! Hehe. Hope you get a good night sleep soon!

    Reply
  • emerson-j
    June 13, 2011

    i had a perfect sleeper till my boy was 18mths then i fought and fought trying to get back into routine…all that hard work when he was younger did not turn him into an ideal sleeper anyway! dont know why i stressed myself out for all those months 😉

    Reply
  • CaseyWiegand
    June 13, 2011

    aiden doesnt sleep through the night either!!!! BUT the good news is my little A sleeps pretty good! love you beautiful friend!!!!!!

    Reply
  • Maeve Rachel
    June 13, 2011

    This is so sweet =) It really is important to cherish and appreciate those sweet moments =)

    Reply
  • gin
    June 13, 2011

    My little guy doesn't sleep through the night either; but during those wake ups are the only time he really ever nestles his face into my neck and lets his body relax against mine. During the day, he does full speed ahead from the moment he wakes up. So, while I would love a full night's rest, those middle of the night wake up calls are okay too.

    Reply
  • james @ agirlcalledjames
    June 13, 2011

    Zoe has almost been a good sleeper since she was born…except for the first couple of weeks when I slept in a rocking chair with her wrapped around my belly because she wouldnt sleep any other way.

    I long for moments like yours. I haven't gotten cuddles since she started crawling i believe and she'll be 2 on the 21st.

    Reply
  • Jen
    June 13, 2011

    I remember a feeling of hope each night as I tucked my first born into bed. I remember that this could be the night when he actually sleeps and won't be up 9,10,11 times, and I'll be rested and a new mom in the morning. I remember feeling like such a fool each morning, when I was just as tired as I was the night before, after being up half the night with an uncooperative baby. Eventually he did sleep through the night (although it took some super tough parenting and screaming to get there) and we had two more babies to follow him up. Sleep came easier with those two, I learned from life with Baby B and changed a few things around, and I'm so glad I did. My 5 year old, nearly 3 year old, and 10 month old baby let me sleep most nights, and I'm so thankful for that! All the best with Baby W, things will turn around yet! Hang in there!

    Reply
  • mrszimm
    June 13, 2011

    My son doesn't STTN either and he sleeps in my bed. I have the same outlook as you. That these moments are fast and fleeting, so enjoy them while God gives them to me.

    Reply
  • pakosta
    June 13, 2011

    I totally understand, believe me!
    my girls are 11.5 and almost 10 and they are up alot at night still and with all the storms we have been having, they are on my bedroom floor now. I had them both in my bed right next to us until they were 4.5 years old, I TOTALLY GET IT!
    tara

    Reply
  • Jessica
    June 13, 2011

    Truitt does sleep through the night either. he used to and then he turned 6 months old and wont now. and unfortunately he wont cuddle if i bring him into our bed. :[ he;ll be wide awake as soon as we walk out of his room.
    i hope you get some sleep soon!

    Reply
  • Laura T.
    June 13, 2011

    I used to sleep with my son too when he was little because he would not sleep alone. Even today (he is seven) I go up and lay with him in bed for a few minutes. Like you said, there is going to come a time when your little boy will think it's gross to be around his mommy. I'm lucky that my seven year old still likes to snuggle.

    Reply
  • Shay Bocks
    June 13, 2011

    Please do not feel like a failure! You are actually doing the best thing for your baby by not making him cry it out – by being there and nurturing the attachment between the two of you! Check out drsears.com – there's a ton of information there that will help you to feel better about what you're doing. You're a great mom – doing the best you can for your baby. Why not bring baby W to bed with you so you're both more comfortable?? We sleep with ours and it helps us all get better sleep.

    Reply
  • Amber
    June 13, 2011

    You should read "healthy sleep habits, happy child" by Marc weisbluth. It'll change your life!! It changed mine- and my kids!!
    I love your blog. You are beautiful and inspiring!

    Reply
  • Jen
    June 13, 2011

    AMEN! I know it won't be long before my little guys no longer want to cuddle with their mama – so I will take it morning, noon, or night until they have outgrown it. Enjoy your nighttime snuggles. 😉

    Reply
  • D
    June 13, 2011

    Oh, "LMM" these moments are fleeting!! They WILL NOT last forever…. they just feel like they do!!! Take in every little pouty face, every smell, every little moment because…………someday, you, like myself, will have a twenty year old "baby boy" who isn't so fond of his momma snuggling in his bed or smelling his hair! It is over in a blink of an eye. You will look back on these nights with longing, someday… not now… but someday.
    On a side note… my "baby" slept beside my bed (on the floor) till he was 11!!! (you're probably cussing right now at that thought) but he is now a normal 😉 college student… doesn't have any weird momma attachments and will probably be a great contribution to society ;););)

    Reply
  • Ariel @ Dreams To Do
    June 13, 2011

    You are not alone girl! A few months ago I was determined to do the cry it out thing with my almost 2 yr old, Leila, to get her to sleep in her own bed all night, but that lasted about 5 minutes. It is sooooo not worth making her sad! And like you said, we just need to appreciated the snuggles and really being needed by our babies while they are babies. Soon enough they'll be teenagers wanting nothing to do with us (oh man, why did I have to go there?). You are a great momma just doing what you need to do for your son. Hang in there!

    Reply
  • Jen Staffeldt
    June 13, 2011

    I second Amber's comment above. If you want to, read "healthy sleep habits, happy child" by Marc weisbluth…but only if you want this to change. Sounds like you love this alone time with Baby W (outside of the lack of sleep).

    Reply
  • Toni
    June 13, 2011

    Love little snuggles, I only get them when Sailyr is very VERY tired. Other wise she is way to busy to let me snuggle her. 🙂 Love baby w's little pouty face!

    love your blog!

    -toni
    alwayshavejoy.blogspot.com

    Reply
  • Stephanie
    June 13, 2011

    My almost 3 yr old still won't go to sleep by herself and nightly wakes to find me if I sneak back to mommy & daddy's bed. I sleep with her all night way too often.

    I finally decided to just lie to the people who wouldn't shut up about it and just embrace the way it is. (p.s. I HATE to lie…but the in-laws make me too nuts to tell them it's still going on : )

    I love more than anything that time snuggled to my beautiful girl. I get so frustrated too often with the situation (because sleep deprivation is a true form of torture) but the cuddle moments make me happy that we have this messed up sleep thing : ) I inhale her too…the sent of my child is the sweetest smell to this mama. The sent of pure love. I wouldn't get up those moments…even for the perfect parent award : )

    Reply
  • nicole.
    June 13, 2011

    me too lady. me too. all of it {race car, diaper within reach… the whole sha-bang}

    Reply
  • AbsoluteMommy
    June 13, 2011

    What is sleeping through the night? That doesn't happen at our house. Caitlin sleeps with Daddy and Mac sleeps with me. I failed the cry it out method too. So what? I cherish those silent blissful moments too. One day they will sleep through the night, and we will be sad that those cuddling days are over. I'm enjoying this time. I can sleep later. Thanks for your honesty!
    Megan

    Reply
  • Jean
    June 13, 2011

    I don't know how you do it…I would not be able to survive! I was so nervous to let my daughter cry it out, but finally when she was a year we just tried it. She cried for about 20 minutes the first night, 10 the next, and then slept through the night after that. I know it's hard, but might be worth a try? Granted, she is still in a crib..I guess it may be different since your son can crawl out of his bed. Anyway, I just know I am a happier wife and mom when I get sleep! Good luck!

    Reply
  • MellyB
    June 13, 2011

    I am so with you sister. I can't even imagine a baby that goes to bed without a fight, stays asleep and wakes up happy the next morning.

    I decided when he was still just a couple months old that it was a gift because I work and it gave me a few more hours to cuddle with him in the middle of the night. Still, an easy night once or twice a month would be nice. 😉

    Reply
  • Andrea
    June 13, 2011

    i love breaking the parenting rules when it comes to having more sweet moments with my girl!

    such a beautiful post, thank you for sharing.

    Reply
  • Reil family
    June 13, 2011

    We got a projector and a noise maker at Target, when my baby was 9 months old. He feel asleep watching it the first time, we used it, and he has been sleeping through the night ever since!

    Reply
  • Nicole
    June 13, 2011

    Oh dear!. I know *exactly* how you feel. My 19 month old Lilah was the same. Every single night I dreaded bedtime and got really anxious about it. I would get so worked up sometimes I would cry. It was my least favorite time of the day. Hopefully in time it will resolve itself and things will go back to normal. Seems you have such a great attitude about it being such a great snugggle time with Baby W. They are only little for so long 🙁

    Reply
  • Jiza Zito
    June 14, 2011

    Beautiful! I'm glad you posted this. I also didn't do the CIO (& sometimes sleep in his toddler bed) & I too pray every night that "maybe this night" will be different. I had a moment very similar to yours just the other night as I calmly hummed a lullaby as my son fell asleep. I couldn't finish the song b/c I got choked up at the thought that these moments will be gone before I know it. In the grand scheme of life, when our sons will be 16, they'll definitely be sleeping through the night so much that we'll be dragging them out the next morning. LOL. God bless!!

    Reply
  • Jessica
    June 14, 2011

    Thanks to you, I blogged about a similar situation on my blog today 🙂

    http://sassysippycupsandstickysarcasm.blogspot.com/2011/06/mommys-relate-to-sleepless-nights.html

    My daughter doesn't sleep through the night either, and ends up in our bed every single night… but I can't give up precious moments of cuddling, because I know one day… she may not want to cuddle with me anymore. So I cuddle because I want to show her I love in every chance I get 🙂 Good luck with the sleeping!!!!!

    Reply
  • Jayna
    June 14, 2011

    I know exactly how you feell! Sleeping in a toddler bed isin't easy, this I know! I sleep in one myself a few nights a week.

    Reply
  • Zsa Zsa
    June 14, 2011

    Aww I love this part: In these moments, I remember why it's okay to be tired.Why it's okay to sometimes break the "rules of parenting".
    Why the small moments matter the most……and then I do my best to embrace them.

    …that's why a mom's job is the best job in the world! 🙂

    Reply
  • Rebekah
    June 15, 2011

    Your post and all these comments have encouraged me so much! My 11 month old son still sleeps with us and I feel alot of pressure to let him cry it out. He is one of those kids that wouldn't cry for ten minutes and fall asleep, he would cry for hours. I feel like I am the only one where I live that would rather enjoy the little moments with my son than to parent by the book. So thank you for sharing i don't feel so alone now:)

    Reply
  • Meagan Kemp
    June 17, 2011

    If I've learned anything as a mom it's that there's no room for judging. We're all doing our best for us, and for our children. Not only that, there's plenty of hate and tearing down in our world – as mother's we should support, love and encourage one another even if we're using different techniques. Lots of love. And I ADORE your blog!

    Reply
  • Carolynleigh
    June 18, 2011

    So sweet 🙂 It's true that nothing else matters during those sweet moments.

    Reply
  • Scrappy Gifts
    June 19, 2011

    Totally totally can relate! Now that we have 2, my husband has been sleeping with our son when he wakes up while I'm with the baby. I sometimes miss laying with my son, but sometimes he'll ask me to lay with him to put him to bed and those little moments are cherished once again. I'm sure glad we got him a twin bed though before the baby came, much more room when those nights occur =D
    I love your blog by the way! I just found it through another friend's blog. I'd love if you checked out my Mommy Mondays – http://craftymommydiva.blogspot.com/search/label/Mommy%20Mondays

    Reply
  • Real Housewife of Loomis
    June 20, 2011

    my 11 month old little girl wakes practically every hour. I feel like I can't possibly go on another day. I am so exhausted I can't do anything. I have an etsy shop that is on vacation and I can't imagine reopening it because I am so tired. She sleeps in her room that is about 2 feet from ours. I soooo want to let her just cry it out and end this but despite wearing ear plugs and the pillow over my head, I can still hear her. I get about hours of sleep a night, and that is not continuous. Any advice? I thought I wanted a bus load of kids but I don't think I can do more than 1 at this point. I am depressed beyond belief and feel so helpless and overwhelmed. I want to spend my days crying. A year of 2 hours of sleep a night doesnt work.

    Reply
  • Ivana
    June 21, 2011

    You have no idea how much I needed to read this blog and all of the comments. It helps so much to know that Im not alone in this. I feel like a failure when everyone gasps that my 14 month old doesn't sleep through the night and still sleeps with us. Idk what else to do. Did I create this? Should I go against my mommy instincts to hold her when she cries? Is it bad that I would rather go through this nightly battle, then to let her cry it out in the crib? ugh… anyway. THANK YOU so much for this post.

    Reply
  • Ana BBK
    June 28, 2011

    My son is only 3 mos, he sleeps pretty well, but I also snuggle with him on the couch or in his nursery. Everyone says I'm creating a dependency, but so what? If the worst thing that can happen is that he's dependent on me and wants snuggles, then I'll take it 🙂 I love every moment I spend with him!

    Reply
  • Anonymous
    June 30, 2011

    On the other side, to sleep alone could help to teach them independence or that they are not the ones in charge, right? I can understand your point too, but I wonder if it really is best for the child, or just nice for the parent. Meaning the parent feels guilt if they leave them to cry so it is easier to stay, plus they get to cuddle then. Something to think about I guess. I am not saying you are wrong or bad though, I just have always wondered about the psychology of it all. I had to try the CIO because I am one of those who need sleep or can't function at all and it took two nights – I went in after 2 min, then 3, then 5, etc. I guess if you really need the sleep you just have to do it. And I still get cuddles during the day! =)

    Reply
  • Chris, Krista and Conor Bolton
    July 11, 2011

    Just discovered your blog today and love it! This post made me tear up a little because it's exactly how I feel. I have a 15 month old son who won't sleep alone so he sleeps in our bed. He still wakes up 2-3 times a night, but since he is in my bed it's easy to calm him without totally waking up myself. I feel alot of pressure from others to make him sleep alone, but he will only be little once and I intend on taking full advantage of snuggling as long as he will let me. He is a totally independant, happy and super energetic boy otherwise so I'm not worried. Sleep will come eventually!

    Reply
  • Mel
    August 2, 2011

    Great blog! My 9 month old sleeps with me still and I could not make cry it out work either. I have finally let go of the idea that having a baby who sleeps through the night = good parenting. I figure I will never look back and say I really should have cuddled my baby less.

    Reply
  • Cheap Louis Vuitton Handbags
    August 15, 2011

    Fast shipping Always a pleasure buying from u Highly recommended seller Thanks

    Reply
  • Super Real
    November 24, 2013

    You write the company a post-dated check and so they give you cash Super Real in other words
    they don’t really have a favorable credit record because they don’t know
    how you can use credit.

    Reply
  • bravejournal.com
    December 20, 2013

    Wonderful goods from you, man. I’ve remember your stuff previous to and you’re simply extremely magnificent.
    I actually like what you’ve bought here, really like what you are saying and the best way
    wherein you assert it. You make it enjoyable and you still care for to stay it smart.
    I cant wait to learn far more from you. That is
    actually a great site.

    Reply
  • http://www.vihtocaatodos.com
    December 27, 2013

    Aw, this was an exceptionally nice post. Finding the time
    and actual effort to generate a very good article… but what can I say…
    I hesitate a lot and don’t seem to get nearly anything done.

    Reply
  • bathmate hydromax review
    February 12, 2014

    We often come across advertisements on internet and magazines that
    endorse these pumps as the ultimate device to solve all the sexual problems of men.
    The claim sounds too good to be true and hence, often
    makes people apprehensive. Recently, Bathmate pumps are gaining a lot of attention of British men.

    Reply
  • league of legends update failed
    February 25, 2014

    An interesting dialogue is price comment. I think that you must write
    more on this subject, it won’t be a taboo subject but typically individuals are not sufficient to
    speak on such topics. To the next. Cheers

    Reply
  • กระเป๋า coach ราคาถูก
    March 11, 2014

    If some one needs expert view on the topic of
    blogging after that i propose him/her to go to see this webpage, Keep up the nice work.

    Reply
  • female condom
    March 23, 2014

    Excellent blog here! Also your site loads up very fast! What host are you using?

    Can I get your affiliate link to your host? I wish my web site loaded up as fast as yours lol

    Reply
  • interet et profit adomtravail
    March 24, 2014

    Thanks for every other fantastic article. The place else could anybody get that type of information in such a perfect method of writing?
    I have a presentation next week, and I am on the search for
    such info.

    Reply
  • Christopher
    May 3, 2014

    What’s up with the new WordPress dashboard??? I don’t know how to work it!!!.

    Reply
  • gagner de l'argent
    May 27, 2014

    Hey! I’m at work browsing your blog from my new iphone!

    Just wanted to say I love reading your blog and look forward to all your posts!
    Keep up the great work!

    Reply
  • comment gagner de l'argent
    May 28, 2014

    Good day! I know this is somewhat off topic but I was wondering which blog platform are you using for this site?

    I’m getting sick and tired of WordPress because I’ve had issues with hackers and I’m looking at options
    for another platform. I would be great if you could point me in the direction of a good platform.

    Reply
  • writing papers
    May 29, 2014

    Great post. I used to be checking constantly this weblog and I
    am inspired! Extremely useful info particularly the final phase
    🙂 I deal with such information much. I was seeking this particular information for a long time.

    Thanks and best of luck.

    Reply
  • jailbreak unlock
    June 7, 2014

    Right away I am ready to do my breakfast, after having my breakfast coming yet again to read more news.

    Reply
  • argent plus rapide
    July 12, 2014

    Wonderful article! We are linking to this great content on our
    site. Keep up the good writing.

    Reply
  • Buy twitter favourites
    August 16, 2014

    sad but true my friend, sad but true 🙁

    Reply
  • SEO
    August 17, 2014

    Wow! After all I got a website from where I can actually get
    helpful data concerning my study and knowledge.

    Reply
  • Sweden anabolic shop
    September 16, 2014

    Verry good blog! Do yyou have any hints for aspiring writers?
    I’m planning to start mmy oown site soon bbut I’m a little lost
    on everything. Would you advise starting with a free platform like WordPress or go for a paid option? There are so many options out
    thhere that I’m completely confused .. Any recommendations?
    Kudos!

    Reply
  • Adjustable incline ab bench
    October 9, 2014

    I simply couldn’t depart your site prior to suggesting that I actually loved the standard information a
    person provide in your visitors? Is going to be again often in order to check up on new posts

    Reply
  • HERVE LEGER
    March 29, 2020

    As a signature French fashion brand, Black Bandage Dress has proven its worth in the fashion industry for catering nothing but high quality line of bandage dress.

    Reply

Leave a Comment Cancel Comment

Recipe Rating




Previous Post
A Momma’s Fears
Next Post
On Sunday, I Showered
About Me

About Me

I'm Ashley. Sometimes blogger. Everyday oiler. Cozy homemaker. Milestones. Meltdowns. Life lessons of a momma-in-training.

Instagram

Tell me your favorite summer reads. What are you reading right now? The queen of beach read recommendations @danielleburkleo sent me this favorite of hers and I’m starting it today. Am i going to love it? 

Some of my recent reads:
+ Four Winds
+ The Family Upstairs
+ Leaving Time
+ The Silent Patient
+ Where the Crawdads Sing
+ The History of Love
+ The Last Thing He Told Me
+ Malibu Rising
+ In Five Years
+ Greenlights
+ Will
littlemissmomma
littlemissmomma
•
Follow
Tell me your favorite summer reads. What are you reading right now? The queen of beach read recommendations @danielleburkleo sent me this favorite of hers and I’m starting it today. Am i going to love it? Some of my recent reads: + Four Winds + The Family Upstairs + Leaving Time + The Silent Patient + Where the Crawdads Sing + The History of Love + The Last Thing He Told Me + Malibu Rising + In Five Years + Greenlights + Will
2 days ago
View on Instagram |
1/4
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈
Option 1, 2, 3 or 4???

1. Paint wall and bed frame white
2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is.
3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is.
4. Leave both as they are now. 

🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈
Option 1, 2, 3 or 4???

1. Paint wall and bed frame white
2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is.
3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is.
4. Leave both as they are now. 

🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈
Option 1, 2, 3 or 4???

1. Paint wall and bed frame white
2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is.
3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is.
4. Leave both as they are now. 

🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈
Option 1, 2, 3 or 4???

1. Paint wall and bed frame white
2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is.
3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is.
4. Leave both as they are now. 

🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈
Option 1, 2, 3 or 4???

1. Paint wall and bed frame white
2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is.
3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is.
4. Leave both as they are now. 

🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈
Option 1, 2, 3 or 4???

1. Paint wall and bed frame white
2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is.
3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is.
4. Leave both as they are now. 

🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
littlemissmomma
littlemissmomma
•
Follow
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈 Option 1, 2, 3 or 4??? 1. Paint wall and bed frame white 2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is. 3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is. 4. Leave both as they are now. 🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
5 days ago
View on Instagram |
2/4
Happy Sunday ☀️ Hang in there ✨
littlemissmomma
littlemissmomma
•
Follow
Happy Sunday ☀️ Hang in there ✨
1 week ago
View on Instagram |
3/4
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
littlemissmomma
littlemissmomma
•
Follow
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing. I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. @breatheandbloomessentials —— Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
2 weeks ago
View on Instagram |
4/4
@littlemissmomma

Wellness

Life

Make

Recent Posts

  • Convention Recap

    June 30, 2022
  • Green Sour Cream Enchiladas

    June 24, 2022
  • Nashville Recap

    June 22, 2022

Shop My Favorites

Follow Along With Me

Tell me your favorite summer reads. What are you reading right now? The queen of beach read recommendations @danielleburkleo sent me this favorite of hers and I’m starting it today. Am i going to love it? 

Some of my recent reads:
+ Four Winds
+ The Family Upstairs
+ Leaving Time
+ The Silent Patient
+ Where the Crawdads Sing
+ The History of Love
+ The Last Thing He Told Me
+ Malibu Rising
+ In Five Years
+ Greenlights
+ Will
littlemissmomma
littlemissmomma
•
Follow
Tell me your favorite summer reads. What are you reading right now? The queen of beach read recommendations @danielleburkleo sent me this favorite of hers and I’m starting it today. Am i going to love it? Some of my recent reads: + Four Winds + The Family Upstairs + Leaving Time + The Silent Patient + Where the Crawdads Sing + The History of Love + The Last Thing He Told Me + Malibu Rising + In Five Years + Greenlights + Will
2 days ago
View on Instagram |
1/5
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈
Option 1, 2, 3 or 4???

1. Paint wall and bed frame white
2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is.
3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is.
4. Leave both as they are now. 

🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈
Option 1, 2, 3 or 4???

1. Paint wall and bed frame white
2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is.
3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is.
4. Leave both as they are now. 

🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈
Option 1, 2, 3 or 4???

1. Paint wall and bed frame white
2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is.
3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is.
4. Leave both as they are now. 

🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈
Option 1, 2, 3 or 4???

1. Paint wall and bed frame white
2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is.
3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is.
4. Leave both as they are now. 

🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈
Option 1, 2, 3 or 4???

1. Paint wall and bed frame white
2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is.
3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is.
4. Leave both as they are now. 

🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈
Option 1, 2, 3 or 4???

1. Paint wall and bed frame white
2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is.
3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is.
4. Leave both as they are now. 

🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
littlemissmomma
littlemissmomma
•
Follow
The cabin bunk room is mostly done (waiting on baseboards and vent covers) but we’re having a family debate about what to do with the walls and bed frame. More video in my stories today showing the room. Please cast your vote below 🙈 Option 1, 2, 3 or 4??? 1. Paint wall and bed frame white 2. Paint only wall white, leave bed frame as is. 3. Paint only bed frame white and leave wall as is. 4. Leave both as they are now. 🛌 Bedding is all from @beddys (the super cool zip up bedding that makes it a cinch to make your bed in seconds). You can get 20% OFF with my code: littlemissmomma
5 days ago
View on Instagram |
2/5
Happy Sunday ☀️ Hang in there ✨
littlemissmomma
littlemissmomma
•
Follow
Happy Sunday ☀️ Hang in there ✨
1 week ago
View on Instagram |
3/5
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing.

I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. 

I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. 

Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. 
@breatheandbloomessentials 
——

Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
littlemissmomma
littlemissmomma
•
Follow
I’ve started writing this post a thousand times since I got home from my trip, but each time the words never seemed enough to capture the magnitude of my experience. Sometimes that’s just how life is. Rare experiences, too powerful and full of magic to be articulated. And I think that’s a good thing, a gift, a blessing. I cried a lot last week. Happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of longing. Tears of hope and happy. Tears reminding me of all that was dreamed of, all that was sacrificed and earned and stretched and nurtured to bring this beautiful week to fruition, all that led to this culmination of love and grace so generously passed back and forth amongst women I adore. I got to hug and hold and laugh with women who have become like sisters to me, even though this was our first time meeting in person (life is generous in this way). I got to cry and laugh and dream again with soulmates that share the hopes of my heart. I got to be reminded and encouraged and slapped around a bit with the truth and knowing that we are responsible for how we chose to experience our life and circumstances and we CAN indeed build the life we imagine for ourselves. Above all, I got to give thanks. For all that has been and is yet to be. For new beginnings—a fresh start armed with the many lessons learned from the countless times I gave myself permission to begin again in the name of growing and continuing to show up in this one wild and precious life. @breatheandbloomessentials —— Scooters in heels at night. Swig cookies on door dash for dinner. Happy hour meatballs. Limo to the farm. Boob tape. $9 purses. Broken luggage vouchers. Bike parades. Stevie Nicks roadies. Ice buckets. Friendship bracelets. Baby horse kisses and nibbles. Bare feet in a cold stream of lavender water. Cafe Rio. Free People. GiGi Pip. Wolf berry slushy. Baby wearing. “Lookin good”. Josef and Tonia. Dance offs. The perfect jeans for all of us. New hats. Late nights. More boob tape. Blisters and sore feet. Lot a fire under her butt. Sketchy Uber drivers. 90’s hip hop playlist. Choose Frank. Iced Chai Tea. Oil up Buttercup. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
2 weeks ago
View on Instagram |
4/5
This morning I was reminded just how much I love working from cute coffee shops when I’m traveling. Chocolate croissants. Chai tea and apple cider. Friendly baristas. People watching. Feeling inspired and grateful. The good company helps too 😜 @danielleburkleo @caseyleighwiegand @chandlermadeco
This morning I was reminded just how much I love working from cute coffee shops when I’m traveling. Chocolate croissants. Chai tea and apple cider. Friendly baristas. People watching. Feeling inspired and grateful. The good company helps too 😜 @danielleburkleo @caseyleighwiegand @chandlermadeco
This morning I was reminded just how much I love working from cute coffee shops when I’m traveling. Chocolate croissants. Chai tea and apple cider. Friendly baristas. People watching. Feeling inspired and grateful. The good company helps too 😜 @danielleburkleo @caseyleighwiegand @chandlermadeco
littlemissmomma
littlemissmomma
•
Follow
This morning I was reminded just how much I love working from cute coffee shops when I’m traveling. Chocolate croissants. Chai tea and apple cider. Friendly baristas. People watching. Feeling inspired and grateful. The good company helps too 😜 @danielleburkleo @caseyleighwiegand @chandlermadeco
3 weeks ago
View on Instagram |
5/5
@littlemissmomma
  • Home
  • Wellness
  • Life
  • Make
  • About
  • Contact
  • Amazon
  • SHOP

Copyright 2020 Little Miss Momma Site Powered by Pix & Hue.