Goodness, life gets busy… especially this time of year! My theory is that it’s partly because everyone is throwing festivals and football parties like it’s a blissful 68 degrees outside. We go because “Fall!” and that’s what you’re supposed to do, yet we all stand in the heat and melt because it still feels like the inside of Satan’s tennis shoe.

In celebration of my choice to ignore the fact that it’s still 90 degrees out, I put out some fall décor. Truth: This is a long post. It’s taken awhile to write and I thought about not posting these pictures because things are not done downstairs. Or really anywhere. But then I decided that’s fake and fake is for the birds… We live in a house, in process, that needs updating. (If I say it over and over again, it really does get less exhausting.)

Orange tones can be a little rough against so much brown (hello 1970), but I always decorate for fall / decided to get over it and nest a little bit.

Andrew has the first week of October off work, and my dad is coming to help with the house! The plans are to really make progress in the kitchen – painting cabinets and changing hardware, painting the walls and trim, changing out the existing light fixtures for new pendants (lanterns?). I have a few other projects I am hoping we can get to, but I will be happy with some kitchen updates. We pulled the wallpaper off in July… While I do love the rustic look, a girl can only look at brown sheetrock for so long.


My good friend Sarah came over last week and really helped me brainstorm everything from paint colors to hardwood stains to cabinet hardware. (THANK YOU, Sarah!!!) Here are some of our inspirations (not my pictures; taken from Pinterest):

Andrew has asked me multiple times “Are you painting everything in our house grey and white?” Of course not. No. Probably not. I don’t think so. Maybe 😉

Of course, I’ve been thrifting and picking and antiquing the last couple of weeks. The other day I was pretty happy with my basket full of versatile, rustic neutrals. IMG_5324.JPG

This morning, Mac and I headed out to the Nashville Flea Market. I have fond memories of doing this with my mom when I was little. Her only rule was, “If you are good, you can eat whatever you want.” Apparently I spent many Saturdays as a stroller-ed child with a corndog in each hand. I decided that rule is genius… Mac definitely ate a corndog and about 1,000 goldfish this morning.


How gorgeous is that coffee table? The lady who made it runs the most amazing booth. I could have decorated our entire house from her collection. Just as I was talking to her about it, a man came up and offered her OVER her asking price! (I’d say I’m pretty good for business.) There were a lot of these stenciled burlap farm-ish pictures mounted into old windows, which I had never seen before. I thought they were neat!

Pregnancy is rolling along! Getting bigger by the day, but still feeling good. We will announce in the next few weeks – Boy or Girl?!


I hit up the maternity clearance at Target this past week and am happy with what I found. That brown clutch is a new thrift find. It’s made of eel, which can be fairly expensive. I was really happy to hand the lady $4.99 for that bag.

Along a different vein… Last weekend was my Mac-man’s SECOND birthday. He’s two years old. TWO whole years. I can’t believe it. In some ways it feels like he has been here forever, but then I can still remember every detail of the day he was born like it only happened yesterday. Curling my hair and packing for the hospital. Taking a picture on the front steps of the porch. I remember being overwhelmed to tears listening to my dad pray. Watching Andrew put on that bunny suit to go into the OR grinning like a Cheshire cat. The CRNA telling me to take deep breaths through my nose. Andrew tightly holding my left hand telling me I was doing “such a great job”… And then… the moment when I heard him my son cry his very first cry. He was mad but not inconsolable, and he peeked his little eyes open just for a second as Andrew held him in front of me. I cried, touched his face, and said “Hey there, Mac. I love you.” I remembering hearing the doctors muse and laugh about how long his fingers were… The nurse practitioners telling me everything was going great and that he was doing well. And before I knew it, it was just me and my husband and my son in our room together. Just the three of us. The new normal.


I have watched that precious, tiny baby grow into a spunky, talkative, independent, smart, rough and tumble boy toddler. Countless times I have teared up boo-hoo’ed as I sang and rocked, thinking of how much I don’t deserve such an incomparable blessing from the Lord. Praying over him as he plays, as he sleeps, as he rides in the car… Hoping and asking God’s best for him. Being terrified and thankful at the same time that this motherhood is so much bigger than myself or my ability. I love watching him learn about the world around him – he is so observant and so curious. He understands quickly. I recognize his defiance when it surfaces because that same hot blood boils in my veins. He has his daddy’s hair that curls when it gets wet, his long legs (thank heavens), and same sweet compassion for others when they hurt.


Lord, help me. Help me everyday to be what my son needs. Help me to help him understand You. Thank you for teaching me more about who You are – a gracious, loving Father  – as I learn to mother him.


Thanks for reading along!














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