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Little Miss Momma

craft

Jumbo Chalkboard Tutorial: and 10 more great chalkboard projects

August 10, 2013

It’s time for another fun, monthly blog hop–featuring 10 of our favorite creative bloggers! This month’s theme is all things CHALKBOARD, and we just know you’ll have a blast with these projects. We’d love for you to pin our collage below, check out my JUMBO Chalkboard tutorial below and then go see all the other fabulous projects created by some of our friends!

augusttheme

To see each fantastic Chalkboard Project up close, join the Blog Hop!

1 • Lolly Jane sharing a Chalkboard Calender
2 • Thirty Handmade Days with an Anniversary Idea + Collection of Printable Chalkboard Tags
3 • Six Sisters Stuff sharing a Cheap and Easy Kids Chalkboard Table
4 • Landee See Landee Do sharing a Hexagon Chalkboard
5 • Little Miss Momma sharing a Jumbo Chalkboard Tutorial
6 • Or So She Says sharing a Vintage Ruler-Framed Chalkboard Sign
7 • Eighteen25 sharing a Super Simple XL Chalkboard
8 • Capturing Joy sharing a Kids Chalkboard Wall Art
9 • Simply Kierste sharing her Chalkboard Binder Labels
10 • Your Homebased Mom sharing a Chalkboard Party Backdrop

blue

You can click the button above to check out our past projects.

And now, this is how I built my jumbo chalkboard:

giantchalkboard4
Ever since I stepped foot in this friends home, I knew that I had to have a jumbo chalkboard of my own for our first home.  After we moved in I began searching online and I was blown away at how expensive they all were–and the remotely affordable ones weren’t cute at all.  So even though I’m far from handy and I own hardly any tools, I decided this was a project I would tackle myself. NOTE: This is a very simple and easy project. BUT, it was not easy for me. I made a ton of mistakes. But good news for you–I learned from my mistakes and I can warn you so you won’t make them too!

giantchalkboard9

Supplies:
4×6 MDF board from Home Depot
Moulding/Baseboard measured to frame your board
1 quart of chalkboard paint
primer
high quality paint brush for a smooth finish
Gorilla wood glue
Caulk for wood and caulking gun
White paint
chalk
Hangman 200 lb. French Cleat Picture Hanger to mount on the wall

First things first. My chalkboard is massive. As in 4 feet by 6 feet kind of massive. You may not want one quite as big. But I wanted a statement piece. Something large that I could customize through the seasons, or for parties, family gatherings, you name it. It’s hung just above our buffet in the dining room.

giantchalkboard8
I went to Home Depot to collect my supplies. I didn’t go with an exact plan because to be honest, I had no idea what I was doing. So I made sure to find a nice guy working in the wood section to help me out. I purchased a 4 x 6 MDF board–which won’t fit in the back of a standard SUV in case you wondered–so you’ll find yourself stuck in the Home Depot parking lot at 10:00pm while you wait for your friends brother to show up with his truck to take you home. If you want your board cut down, they can do that in the store for a minimal charge. BUT, they will only cut straight lines–no angles.

I don’t have a saw at home, so I planned on using the “in-store” miter saw to cut the angles for the framing of my board. I headed to the crown moulding section and picked out a piece I liked.  Not too ornate and just enough character. Home Depot won’t cut angles for you, so I was prepared to use the hand saw myself. But when I got up to the handsaw I freaked out, certain I would ruin at least a dozen boards before getting a decent cut. So, because the store wasn’t busy that late at night, I was able to convince the guy working to make the cuts for me (even he messed up a handful of times–not as easy as it looks).

NOTE: I did not frame the outside of my MDF board, but rather I placed the moulding ON TOP of the board on the outer edges. So my moulding measured the same as my MDF board.

After I brought my supplies home, I first painted my MDF board with the chalkboard paint. Now here was the first and biggest mistake I made. I DID NOT prime the wood first.  BIG MISTAKE, because I ended up having to do 6 coats of chalkboard paint because it kept soaking up into the MDF board. So, be sure to do a coat of primer before you start painting, then you will likely only need two coats of chalkboard paint.

Allow the paint to dry completely before the next step. I didn’t use any nails or staples to attach my frame to the MDF board. Instead I used gorilla wood glue and then I clamped the boards securely together until the glue dried.

1-DSC_0546 2.44.09 PM

Because the moulding was cut by hand, the cuts weren’t perfect. which meant that when I put them all together there were some small gaps. So I filled the gaps with the caulk and smoothed it out with my finger.

giantchalkboardcorner
giantchalkboardcorner2

I continued this with all four corners. And then I filled in any gaps there were around the edges between the moulding and the MDF board. Once all the glue and caulk had dried I painted the frame and the edge of the MDF board white to give it a fresh coat. Next, I installed the wall mount. Since the chalkboard is extremely heavy, you need this heavy duty wall mount.

And then I put it up and jumped for joy!

giantchalkboard

giantchalkboard10

giantchalkboard5

giantchalkboard7_edited-1

giantchalkboard2

giantchalkboard4

TAGS:10 Blog Hop
27 Comments
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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.

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  • Cheap and Easy DIY Chalkboard Table | Six Sisters' Stuff
    August 10, 2013

    […] Table 4 • Landee See Landee Do sharing a Hexagon Chalkboard 5 • Little Miss Momma sharing a Jumbo Chalkboard Tutorial 6 • Or So She Says sharing a Vintage Ruler-Framed Chalkboard Sign 7 • Eighteen25 sharing a […]

    Reply
  • Kids Chalkboard Art Wall~How to turn a textured wall into a smooth wall
    August 10, 2013

    […] Table 4 • Landee See Landee Do sharing a Hexagon Chalkboard 5 • Little Miss Momma sharing a Jumbo Chalkboard Tutorial 6 • Or So She Says sharing a Vintage Ruler-Framed Chalkboard Sign 7 • Eighteen25 sharing a […]

    Reply
  • Landee
    August 10, 2013

    That turned out so great Ashley! And I can see about one million uses for it. Totally worth the investment in 6 coats of chalkboard paint! 🙂

    Reply
  • Stephanie
    August 10, 2013

    You should post a seasonal pic of your board to give us ideas!!

    Reply
  • Penny
    August 10, 2013

    I’ve been wanting to do this for awhile you might have just inspired me to do it on our entry wall as well!

    Reply
  • Krystle
    August 10, 2013

    Very nice!

    There is a thinner pressed board that works better than a thick sheet of MDF.
    It is usually by the peg board and comes in many precut sizes. I have used this for a variety of chalkboards-including popping a piece in place of glass in picture frames.

    Reply
  • Vintage Ruler Frame Chalkboard Sign Tutorial (she: Lauren) - Or so she says...
    August 10, 2013

    […] Table 4 • Landee See Landee Do sharing a Hexagon Chalkboard 5 • Little Miss Momma sharing a Jumbo Chalkboard Tutorial 6 • Or So She Says sharing a Vintage Ruler-Framed Chalkboard Sign 7 • Eighteen25 sharing a […]

    Reply
  • capturing joy with kristen duke
    August 10, 2013

    Way to be crafty with tools, I love it! I love BIG, too, can’t wait to see what other things you’ll write on it! (I clicked over to Brooke’s site, and loved her post today).

    Reply
  • Lolly Jane
    August 11, 2013

    So fun and I love love love the cute bunting! Well done, lmm! XO

    Reply
  • Lauren @ The Thinking Closet
    August 11, 2013

    Way to go and seize this DIY by the horns! Love the scale and the colored chalk paint you chose. And girl, your styling skills are to die for! (That’s an area in which I’m definitely hoping to grow.)

    Had fun joining you ladies for the blog hop this round, representing Or So She Says! Happy weekend to you, Ashley!

    Warmly,
    Lauren
    The Thinking Closet

    Reply
  • Michelle
    August 12, 2013

    Umm when we finally move into our “forever” home – I will for sure be coming back to your blog to get ideas for our house! Or, maybe you can just take a trip out & give this non creative girl a hand 😉 we’ll invite kristi along to help since I need all the help I can get!

    Reply
  • Christi w/ The Chapters of Our Lives
    August 12, 2013

    I love this chalk board. I really would love to have one in my house, I just wouldn’t know where to put it.

    Reply
  • Chalkboard Party Backdrop
    August 14, 2013

    […] Table 4 • Landee See Landee Do sharing a Hexagon Chalkboard 5 • Little Miss Momma sharing a Jumbo Chalkboard Tutorial 6 • Or So She Says sharing a Vintage Ruler-Framed Chalkboard Sign 7 • Eighteen25 sharing a […]

    Reply
  • Leigh [email protected]
    August 14, 2013

    Love this idea! I think it would be great to update it seasonally with a To Do list for fall, winter, spring!

    Reply
  • Vera
    October 26, 2013

    Hi, I love this! Question – did you make the tiny bunting? I’m in love with it! If you could share how you made that (or where someone could buy one) that would be so helpful…thank you!

    Reply
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  • Kate
    October 12, 2016

    Awesome! I found your project after searching for ways to hang a heavy chalkboard. I didn’t realize Home Depot sells cleats for hanging pictures, and that is exactly what I need. Thanks! (Also, your chalkboard is super cute! Nicely done!)

    Reply
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About Me

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

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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
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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
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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
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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.
1 week ago
View on Instagram |
3/4
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
•
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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
2 weeks ago
View on Instagram |
4/4
@littlemissmomma

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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
17 hours ago
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1/4
Happy Sunday ☀️ Hang in there ✨
littlemissmomma
littlemissmomma
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Happy Sunday ☀️ Hang in there ✨
4 days ago
View on Instagram |
2/4
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
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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.
1 week ago
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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
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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
2 weeks ago
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