Is This The Start of Something?

““Who cares if no one reads this mom! Just read it to us, we think you’re awesome!” ”

Monday morning, I sat and typed out a quick blog post about my new computer. Little did I know that it would lead me to read a few of my blog posts from years past, to my curious children. Posts I wrote about our family, making childhood magical, open letters I wrote to them on their birthdays, and even a post I wrote last Christmas that I never shared. By the end of it all, the girls were all crying and Jonathan was really feeling all in his feels about how much I love him. Three children, who read 2-3 chapter books a week, boosted my ego by telling me that I’m actually a really good writer, even if I might not always believe in myself.

Could I put this all in a written journal? Sure. Am I going to? Probably not. Do I enjoy typing and incorporating photos to go along with those words? You Bet I do! Here’s what I didn’t expect to really enjoy, re-reading my random thoughts and ramblings and revisiting my brain. I’m not generally one to whine and complain about my husband and children, especially on the internet for all to see. (That’s not to say that I don’t get annoyed or frustrated with them on occasion… I just don’t air it in public) But I was pleasantly surprised to read that there was no whif of griping, just a common theme of “JORDANNE PUT DOWN YOUR PHONE, YOU’RE MISSING IT ALL!” You’d think by now, I’d have learned, but what’s that saying about the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over again and expecting different results.

I sat there at the dinner table, Monday night, reading more posts aloud to Ryan, most of them he had never read, because the man doesn’t do social media. One in particular, was the post from 10.14.16. I could barely read the words aloud through sobs and whimpers. “I WROTE THIS?” I just couldn’t believe that my brain, the same brain that walks into a room and has no recollection of why I’m there, a sleep deprived mom brain, could sit down and form words and sentences, so raw and beautiful. The post I’m referring to was me pleading with God to give us another baby. We struggled with unexplained infertility for our first two babies, and even had a miscarriage in between and I was feeling very exhausted from the struggle. I found out a few weeks later that I got pregnant shortly after writing that.

As I’ve said before, this has always been an outlet for me, back in high school and my livejournal days. Back when I separated every thought with an ellipses and my daily mood was always some Taking Back Sunday song. Even if no one reads this. I’m going to write, because I feel I need it.

My mom, now in her early 60s, loves to sit and chat with me about my childhood (her early motherhood). I would bring up amazing things she did, or adventures we went on, projects we made, songs we used to sing, memories I have that she doesn’t remember. “I’m so glad you remember all this stuff, because somehow I don’t remember any of it! I was in survival mode with five kids.” I’m not sure how she couldn’t remember, she was the most present and attentive mom around, but in the same vein, I look back at photos from the past 11 years and there’s blank spots in my memory! Usually during hard or difficult times, I remember the traumatic thing that was going on, but not the beautiful memories that continue to play out even through the struggle. I wonder if thats the same for her.

I think about this past summer, as we honored the life of my cousin, who was taken from this world way too early. It was a hard, unimaginable weekend, full of tears and grief. But even in the midst of all that, my kids made memories with me and Ryan. Happy, joy-filled, core memories. So maybe it’s kinda like that. We don’t get to pick and choose what our kids remember, but we are responsible for how we make them feel. The trip was hard, but we made sure to make it an adventure, as we always do. As moms, we need to take that job seriously.

So, I Got a New Computer.

October 16, 2015 is when this photo was taken.

I got a new computer. My fifteen year old iMac, that hung with me in all the best of times, decided it was time to meet its maker. (or at the very least, get gutted like a fish at the tech store).

If it were a human, it would have been preparing to learn how to drive. We’ve been through a lot, my iMAc and me. It was with me through my wedding photography years, helped me cull almost a million photos, edit almost 100 weddings, and stored all the photos of my kids lives up until this point. When I realized it wouldn’t turn on this summer, I went through the 5 stages of grief over the course of a weekend, as I grappled with the idea that I might lose everything that is saved on it’s hard drive. Ryan constantly reassured me that it would be okay and that they should be able to, at the very least, salvage the hard drive. Thankfully, he was right.

Ironically, for Christmas 2024, my wonderful, insightful husband, Ryan purchased me a new MacBook Air because he heard me say on numerous occasions that my two computers (which I refused to update to the new iOS because I didn’t want to lose all my photo editing software), were seeming on their last legs. Every time I would turn them on, I held my breath hoping I could accomplish one more task, make it through one more season, one more Christmas card design, a few more photo edits. No joke, I’ve been holding my breath like this for the past 5 years. I just couldn’t justify buying a new computer when photography was no longer a big source of income for our family, and I was scratching by with using them for the bare minimum. But here we are.

I felt so guilty about getting a new computer, it took me almost a two months before I even set it up, and even still… THIS MONTH I finally purchased photoshop and Lightroom so I can get back to editing photos again. As I sit here on my couch, typing away, I’m reminded of how much I miss using an ACTUAL computer to look at websites, purchase my ornament samples for the upcoming ornament season, and EVEN THIS, typing out my thoughts in blog form. Do people still read blogs? WHO KNOWS. I know I don’t, because I’ve convinced myself I have no time for that, even though I miraculously have countless hours to scroll my stupid phone. <EYE ROLL> But that’s a topic for another post.

Anyway, I just wanted to document this momentous occasion, and try to convince myself to get back to something I love to do, blogging my thoughts, for no one to read. As I scroll through the drafts on this blog, that I never shared, I realize that I spend way too much brain space worrying about what others might think, and not enough time doing the things I love to do. I even did a search on my phone for photos of my old computers and office space and even 2015 Jordanne knew better than to compare myself to strangers on the internet.

Does anyone else look back at photos on their camera rolls and wonder who that person was? I’m not quite sure where that version of me went, or how I got so sucked into the distraction of my phone, but I’m trying very hard to break myself free. Maybe it’s homeschooling demands, maybe it’s the fact that I now have 3 slightly bigger humans who have lots of thoughts and ideas to tell me about on a daily basis, or being 100% responsible for all the day to day things without family to help. My guess is the phone distraction is what’s eating up most of my time.

Now off to start my day.

Little Jonny pretending to work at my desk

I miss this Office space <3

Hello, it’s me…

I grew up in the age of live journal, chat rooms, AIM & MySpace… so sharing my thoughts on a public platform like a blog seemed like second nature to me. As my photography blog has since been shutdown, and I only started writing on this blog back in 2015… I felt it fitting to re-introduce myself, because I have changed quite a bit in the past 10 years.

hi. Welcome to my neglected corner of the internet. I had all the best intentions to share life happenings, house projects, favorite recipes, Amazon essentials and more here. I quickly learned that I’m terrible with consistency and struggle with imposter syndrome, so I’m convinced that this space will just be a huge waste of time, seeing as people don’t spend much time on blogs anymore. It went from instagram, to Pinterest, to YouTube, to now TikTok… and I feel like my brain and attention span have left me in the process. I can now see why our parents give up learning the new technologies because Lordy does it change quickly!

The past week, I’ve wasted the better part of the day trying to figure out how to use TikTok and actually grow on that app. What content I need to be making and sharing, and how I need to be engaging with other creators. It truly makes me want to lie down and take a huge nap, and question if this is even something I want to try to figure out. But in the process, I realized that so much of who I am and what I love isn’t being showcased on any social platform (not that it needs to be), but I have always found so much comfort in encouraging others and making people feel at home or at the very least, that they are normal & seen. When we are truly ourselves, we can bring a unique perspective, instead of regurgitating what we think people want to hear, or acting the same way as popular influencers do, thinking that it will get us likes and views.

I’m just me. Insignificant to the world, but absolutely everything to three tiny humans, and a wonderful man who married me. I feel like this little life we live is pretty great, and I’m so grateful for every day I get to spend with them. And if it’s interesting to you, I’m always happy to share what’s working for us, and also what’s not. I’m a fairly open book when it comes to our life, but I will never pretend to be an expert at anything, because I feel like there’s always room for improvement or ways I can make it better. The only thing you must know, you will never change my views on Faith or politics. Not to say I’m not open for discussion, but I’m set on both. Thanks.

So, a little about me. Elevator edition? I’m a sorta crunchy Catholic SAHM of three. Happily Married to the man of my dreams. Sourdough making, Raw milk drinking, meat loving, occasional mural painting, homeschooling artist, who loves to share baked goods with neighbors, paint my home in fun bright colors, have loud dance parties with my kids and sing loudly in the car. If I’m not in the kitchen, you’ll find me at my desk drawing with my kids, or working out with Peloton. Cliche? Maybe. But I want to be able to enjoy adventures with kids and husband for years to come and not complain about my body hurting.

That’s me. In a very small nutshell. As I say in here, almost every year, I really hope to start sharing more. Using this blog more and maybe actually treating this more like a job than a hobby. (Maybe I would actually make a little money in the process too).

The End of One Season, Means the Start of a New

Five years ago, this sleep deprived family of five decided to start a new nightly summer routine of going for walks around our neighborhood. Having a fresh squishy newborn meant that the older two were feeling a little pent up in the house, while this mama figured out life with three babies. We would walk, let Jonathan ride his bike and Verona was quite content riding in the stroller. It wasn’t perfect, a little over a mile, but the fresh air always felt wonderful and the golden light never disappointed. We started mid July of that year, and continued until October; weather permitting.

This routine, would help keep us sane the next summer during the pandemic, and even into 2021. It felt as if we found a little slice of heaven right there in Midland. Slightly chaotic, yet peaceful, uninterrupted family time. “Family Selfies” became the norm, they learned that their photo loving mama was going to want to stop and take a “Quick family selfie” if the light was just right. I couldn’t have loved it more. Then we moved.

October 2021: The walk was nice, but I quickly realized, walking three cul de sacs tends to get pretty repetitive. With how our neighborhood is set up, if you want to venture out past that, it turns into a whole new kind of task, and a lot longer of a walk. Which isn’t as quiet and calm with three kids. So we scraped it. Just like that, my favorite post dinner routine was over and traded in for new activities. Mini sticks hockey in the basement, family mario kart races, exploring book series as a family before bedtime. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like we were lacking in ideas to do with the kids, I just enjoyed the fresh air. That season of walks with little kids in strollers was gone so fast, I didn’t have a second to realize what had ended. In the blur of moving, unpacking and getting situated in our new home and new life in Ohio, I felt like a whole precious season had been stolen from me. I didn’t know how to process it. So I did what I usually do, I pushed that out of my mind and moved on with life, because being a SAHM of three and homeschooling, with a husband who travels a lot for work, believe it or not, is a lot of work.

I threw myself into every house project I could think of, painted almost every room, made this house feel like our home, and tried to ignore the ache in my soul for our old nightly routine of quiet walks.

Spring 2024: After years of training wheels, and fears of falling, we finally mastered the two wheel bikes (x3). All three kids learned within a few weeks of each other how to ride a two wheel bike, and just like that our nightly walks were (kinda) back on the table. The only problem was that, Ryan and I couldn’t walk fast enough, so the kids were getting annoyed with us for asking them to slow down. Until one night. LIGHTBULB MOMENT: Ryan pulled our bikes down from the garage ceiling, filled the tires and it was like suddenly a whole new neighborhood was opened up to us.

We were riding 4-6 miles a night, exploring the local high school, and off-road bike trails, etc. One night, as the sun was starting to go down behind the trees and the light was flickering through the trees, I felt my breath catch in my chest. I felt it. That ache in my soul that had been missing our old nightly routine, and I realized we found it. It wasn’t the same as before, but it was new and improved for this new season of life. Full. Family. Bike. Rides. My heart was exploding with excitement.

We can mourn the loss of old ways, and yet still rejoice in the new beginnings, God is kind of awesome that way. What’s the verse? Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

We faced new fears, we learned new skills, we skinned some knees and bruised some egos (mostly mine), but was able to find something new to cherish that got us outside and burning off energy.