Funkville

Ya heard of it? It’s a real place people!

Funkville, where the skies are gray and the kids are always crying. The bills are piled high while you’re counting pennies. You’re usually on a diet and eating a donut. It’s really a terrible place and I don’t know how I end up here so often.

I love my life and I’m very blessed but let’s be real it’s not always rainbows and butterflies. Some days washing dishes and folding clothes doesn’t make me smile and the endless toy trails don’t warm my heart. 😂

Something tells me I’m not the only one frequenting this aweful place but who could tell from all the happy go lucky perfectly accessorized photos we all post on social media, which I’m totally guilty of doing.

Small things bring me back though like my husband thinking I’m so awesome because I remembered to pick up his Splenda or when I’m pretending to still be sleeping and Timmy tip toes over and kisses my cheek or how Grace’s eyes light up at the sight of a bunny, real, stuffed, on TV doesn’t matter that chick is in love. How Timmy  wants to wake up Grace in the morning because apparently “he’s always loved her.” How Grace tucks in her baby at night. And right now how both kids are in a fort that they built together and all I hear is the sound of their fake power tools and laughing and I’m just sitting here sipping my tea. So peaceful. 

The easiest way back though is cracking open that bible. Works everytime.

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