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Little Miss Momma

live

This Is My Year

January 2, 2015

this is my year 8Shirt c/o: The Shine Project
Get 10% OFF with the code: missmomma10
Shop here. I’m wearing a small and I love the loose fit.

this is my year 2
Necklace and rings c/o: Wrenn Jewelry
Arrow necklace c/o: Lisa Leonard
Jacket: Free People (runs small so order a size up) here or here
Pants: Topshop
Shoes: Nikes
this is my year square
jump this is my year
I’m big on goal setting and vision boards and words of affirmation and resolutions.
I see it as a promise I’m making to myself–a promise to always try to be better.

From an early age I was taught about the power setting a goal can have on helping us stay the course and persevere through trials. Every year on New Years Eve, my mom and stepdad would sit us down at the kitchen table with an index card, a pen and some highlighters.  We would write the new year at the top of the card followed by 3 of our individual goals for that year.  There were more years than not that I grumbled about this activity–viewing it as more of a chore than a privilege.  But there was always the promise that my parents would take my index card to work and laminate it for me. Something about lamination was a strong motivating force for me as a kid. Oh how I wish I saved those index cards over the years.

Have I achieved every goal I’ve ever put on paper? No.
Have I ever given up, thrown in the towel, called it quits? Yes.
Have I sometimes disappointed those I love and myself along the way? Surely.

Because that’s life.
And as I’ve said before, life is messy.  And imperfect.  And full of opposition and trials.
But navigating through those trials with hope and faith in the bigger picture is what has given me purpose.

My dear friend, Ashley of The Shine Project, recently shared some words that resonated deeply with me:

“Social media is full of the best moments of people’s lives and I’m grateful you share them with me. But behind successes are moments of struggle, and right now on my blog I’m sharing with you three times this past year where I almost gave up. They are being celebrated today because, dang it, I feel strong for overcoming them. And you should feel strong and celebrated for overcoming your storms too. That’s why 2015 is our year. We’ve been prepared, we’ve learned how to better navigate through trial, and we’re going to shine our way through the darkness that sometimes comes.” -Ashley LeMieux

I know New Years resolutions bug many people–because why should we wait for a special date on a calendar to start making positive changes in our life?  And I agree–we shouldn’t wait.  We should be setting goals and building dreams every day.  But that can be hard, and tiring and often unrealistic to maintain such motivation and will power throughout every day of the year.  For me, there is something powerful and almost magical about dreaming big at the New Year.  Because so many people across the world are celebrating and committing to positive growth at the very same moment, I feel so much more connected and uplifted by those around me.  So many of us, at the exact same time are having hope for a brighter future–are making commitments to be better.  And when I sit down to put my goals on paper, I am strengthened by this connection we share.

The Shine Project is right.
This is my year.
This is our year.
Happy 2015 friends!

Learn about the fabulous cause that these t-shirts support at The Shine Project.  And join everyone on Instagram and tag #theshineproject #thisismyyear so we can see what you’ve overcome and what you’re going to accomplish in these next 12 months. 2015 has been waiting for you. You can follow The Shine Project on Instagram here.

Remember, 10% OFF this shirt with the code: missmomma10.

2-this is my year 1

TAGS:The Shine Projectthis is my year
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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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  • brenda
    January 2, 2015

    happy new year
    it was good to see your fb posting. had not heard from you/blog in ages and ages. I guess I have been dropped from the email list. project sounds quite inspiring but too mad only available to instagram.

    Reply
  • Kimberly Bonham
    January 3, 2015

    Love the shirt. Your hair looks amazing!!

    Reply
  • abby
    January 3, 2015

    LOVE Ashley of The Shine Project! The both of you girls are so inspiring! Happy New Year!

    Reply
  • Lauren
    January 3, 2015

    Happy New Year! I just said I wanted a new pair of Nike dunks, your outfit is fantastic!

    Reply
  • Ann
    January 8, 2015

    Love this message! I have to ask, do you still love your short hair? Any regrets? I have long, thick hair. I love my hair and I am always getting asked if I wear extensions(I don’t). But lately, I am ready for a change. A big change as I feel my hair defines me and it shouldn’t. Silly, because it is only hair. Sorry, for all the babbling. Love your blog.

    Reply
  • Tracy Norton
    January 23, 2015

    I miss reading your posts. I hope you write something soon and I hope all is well. Xx

    Reply
    • Sabrina
      Tracy Norton
      January 23, 2015

      I agree!

      Reply
  • shannon olson
    January 27, 2015

    I just love your style, so chic! Your life looks like so much fun =)

    Reply
  • Domino+qq
    March 2, 2015

    it’s very beautiful style….

    Reply
  • Isha Mathur
    March 23, 2015

    nice choice of dresses and you got very pretty hair

    Reply
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    May 8, 2019

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  • HERVE LEGER
    March 9, 2020

    “I love the idea of movement, but this White Bandage Dress can be especially difficult to achieve with a knit because they’re all

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  • Marian Lewis
    November 5, 2020

    In my childhood i wasn’t confident enough but after the social media activities i am much better person now but even now i am not confident on things like to fix a bathroom fan on the wall so i read an article about bathroom fan and did that task easily but hope so God will make everyone stable in their lives.

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About Me

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
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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
19 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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