The Gypsy Mama

How to work from home without losing your mind {what a fulltime job, 3 kids, 1 dog and a hamster have taught me}

thegypsymama — Tue, 15 May 2012 04:00:58 +0000

I work from a desk in the corner of our kids’ small playroom.

Full time. Usually more. For two years now. Managing social media {and the website (in)courage} for DaySpring, the Christian subsidiary of Hallmark.

It’s the most rewarding job I’ve ever had.

Right now there is a baby girl at my feet playing an annoying musical toy and two boys playing the Wii in the living room. There is a small, wet dog asleep in her bed on the back deck and a hamster who fortunately has not yet been eaten by the dog.

It’s a good day.

I thought you might like a peek.
{I must really like you guys to invite you into my little slice of heavenly chaos….}

Yup, that’s my real life, real deal, work-from-home set up.

So here’s what I’ve learned from the last two years about working from home without losing your mind:

1. Keep regular office hours

I’m connected to our Internet Marketing team via an intranet. It’s awesome. It’s like I’m there in the office with them. I keep the same office hours as everyone because I’m part of a team.

Distance is diminished by instant, reliable connection.

I’m always there when they expect me to be. And we all like it that way.

Thanks to Skype and instant messaging I’m only a click away and can easily pop a virtual head around anyone’s office door.

Even if you’re not part of an office team, regular office hours will set your body clock to the routine of a work schedule, which is the best way I know to tap every ounce of productivity.

2. Create a dedicated office space

Sure, my space may be a wee cluttered and colorful, but it’s me. And when I’m sitting at that desk all I see is that desk, my laptop and my white board to the left. My back is to the rest of the playroom {see “point 4 below: this is how I wear blinders”} and it’s my 100% work space.

I only sit at that desk when I’m working. Not for crafty activities with kids or letter writing or surfing the net or anything else in the relaxation realm. It’s for work and work only and it helps me get my game face on.

3. Trade up from sweats

I’m not talking suits here. And sure, comfy clothes are a big plus about working from home. But in order to have my head in the work game I need to feel like I’m in the office. And I would never wear my pajamas to the office.

What I wear is a large part of what I tell my brain I’m doing.

Running = sweats; girl’s night out = high heels; Sunday afternoon = pajamas;
work hours = business casual, usually with make up and sometimes with jewelry.

4. Wear blinders

The tricky bit about working from home is that there’s always something on the to-do list that isn’t work related. You can’t just close the front door on that stack of dirty dishes or overflowing laundry basket.

But here’s the secret: You can!

Just choose not to look. Keep the space where you’re working neat, tidy and productive. Turn your back on everything else.

If you don’t then I promise your precious work hours will be a series of fits and false starts.

5. With young kids at home, help has proved essential

My kids are six, four and one. I don’t home school. But Tsh from Simple Mom does and we talked about balancing full time work from home with school and kids in our recent podcast – did you listen to it yet? She has help too.

My two boys are in Kindergarten and preschool respectively. Zoe is home full time with me. When she was still immobile it worked out just fine to entertain her with strategically placed toys and peppy tunes. Now that she can walk and {baby} talk and get into everything, not so much.

I couldn’t do what I do without the greatest baby sitter on the face of the planet and a husband who totally gets and supports what I do in word as well as with his schedule.

Three days a week Zoe is with the adorable baby sitter {who also voluntarily does my laundry and dishes and yes I totally want to adopt her!} One morning a week Peter watches her. And the other day I just juggle.

Honestly, before Tara I had regular fits of weeping over the backed up laundry and unmanageable house. My love for her is big.

Anytime I have to travel for work or meet intense deadlines, Tara is available for longer hours or more days. And Peter and I plan ahead enough that he can be home early in a pinch or take over the whole shebang in the evenings if I need extra time. Yea, he’s awesome like that. And I always, always bring him home a cinnamon crunch bagel {name that place}.

6. Online grocery shopping is a time & sanity saver

I used to watch those Peapod delivery trucks and think it was only for the rich and famous. Then I did some research and DUDE, it’s only a few bucks more for the delivery. And believe me when I tell you those few dollars more than make up for the time and exhaustion tagging grocery shopping with three kids onto an already packed day costs.

Hands down worth the investment.

Unless you’re like my husband and enjoy grocery shopping. Then by all means, get your cart and squeaky wheel on.

7. Take a lunch break

You need to eat. You will feel more human if you do so without tweeting, Facebooking and writing reports at the same time. This is something I must remind myself on a regular basis.

Sometimes leaving the house for lunch and interacting with other three dimensional people can recharge a whole day for the cost of a bowl of soup.

8. Make your peace with letting go of perfect

If I let every stray sock, every doggie chew toy, every stain and unwashed item and pile of unattended paperwork rule my days, I’d never get anything done. I’d be too busy beating myself up for not managing everything perfectly.

I’ve traded perfect for productive. And sometimes productive takes a bit of messy to make the most of a day.

I’m finally OK with that. It’s taken me about a decade, three kids, a dog and one hamster. True story.

9. Knock off at 5pm

Honestly, this one is the hardest for me.

The temptation is to just let your work spill over into your late afternoon and then your evening as you try to finish up “just this one last thing.” But having a hard “end” to your day is essential to give your head time to clear and readjust to family time.

With no commute home to clear your head, you need to manufacture the hard stop between activities to help you transition from “work” to “home.”

This can be even harder if you work in social media, which – as we all know – never sleeps. But, as I’ve said before, it’s impossible to be involved in everything and in fact, missing out just might be the better choice most days anyway.

Manufacturing reasons to actually leave the building helps too – like going for a run or picking kids up from school. This helps me delineate between my two chunks of day: work life and home life.

{Confession: most nights after kids are fed, bathed and in bed I can’t stay away from peeking back in on things, but I try to fast from social media almost entirely on the weekends}.

10. Don’t start cleaning projects you can’t finish in 1 day

Sometimes, despite everything I said in point 4 above, there’s something in the house that starts to drive me bonkers. And much like anyone who works in an office needs to clean house now and again, that happens at home too.

But here’s the thing – try not to tackle anything that will immobilize your productivity. Save those big projects for weekends or holidays.

Work your way back into a peaceful state of mind, without multiplying the chaos, the way some housekeeping projects inevitably do.

11.Work out of the house on occasion

Mix it up some days. Work from the library or Panera or your favorite coffee shop.

You’d be surprised how much this can refresh your creativity.

12. Show your family what you’re working on

You may have heard of this awesome event that (in)courage recently hosted called (in)RL {short for “in real life”}. It was a webcast that 1,700 women tuned into from all over the world before meeting up with other local (in)courage readers to get to know each other better in real life.

It was a blast. A gift. An inspiration to be a part of.

It was also the most exhausting thing I’ve done in a long time and by the end I felt like I was down to one brain cell and had forgotten what my family looked like. And if families are a team, the team needs to know what it is they’re all rooting for.

So as the (in)RL weekend progressed one of the best parts was sharing the (in)RL Instagram feed with my kids. They got such a kick out of seeing my face on many of the webcast screens participants were tuned into. And I could explain that this is the work mommy had been doing to encourage other moms. They loved it. And it helped explain my weepy, emotional state all weekend as a year-long dream was realized before our eyes.

13. Some days, despite your best efforts, everything will spiral into chaos anyway. That’s OK

Treat with chocolate.

Start over again tomorrow.

And you? If you work from home what works for you?

I’d love to know.

::Click here to download my free eBook, “The Cheerleader for Tired Moms: A Collection of Posts from the Gypsy Mama” {please give it a few moments to download… cheering for you!}

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How I broke up with myself six-and-a-half years ago

thegypsymama — Sun, 13 May 2012 04:00:50 +0000

Becoming a parent is a lot like breaking up with yourself.

There’s all these things you used to love about yourself and your life. Those late afternoon naps. Those spontaneous movie nights. The tidy house and pretty things that could easily break. Lots of pretty things. Unbroken, pretty things.

Uninterrupted meals, sleep, bathroom breaks.

Children arrive and blow through what used to be your routine.

They huff and they puff and they blow your life down.

You wake up at 2am because someone calls you mother. Except they don’t say the word, they only offer the wail and you find yourself stumbling out of bed, groping for sense and the nightlight and in that moment it’s over.

The old you is left in the wake of washing out bottles and warming milk and walking 500 miles of carpet to be the one who wakes up next to new.

I’ve walked and I’ve rocked and I’ve learned to run to keep up with a nearly-seven-year-old and some days I can’t catch my breath.

Some days I miss the Lisa-Jo I used to be. But those days are rarer now than they were when Jackson was just 5 months old. I’m committed to being their mother.

There were days under the lilac jacaranda when I shook my head and couldn’t understand how I’d lost myself in the wash and spin and rinse and repeat of new rhythms I couldn’t find my groove to.

I used to dance when I was still single. Give me a bass beat and a girl’s night out and I would lose myself in the music. I could rock myself to sleep on the beat of a night spent devoted to nothing but two girlfriends, mushroom hamburgers and french fries at Ed’s diner.

And when I was just a two-month-old mother I asked a friend when it would happen, the part where the baby adored me.

When the exhaustion and frustration and feelings of incompetence would give way to adoration. When the mini-me would want nothing but to declare his devotion to me.

Lindsey looked at me over her own sleeping babe and told it straight like mother’s do best, “It’s because of the exhaustion and the rocking and the soothing that he will come to love you. The only way is through.”

So I rocked and walked and soothed and wrangled my own confusion. And still I stood with one foot in the life I thought I loved as I waited for the baby I’d lived to start to love me.

Nonsense.

I lived a lot of nonsense before life started to make sense again.

But that’s because the breaking up can be a slow process.

And it takes time to find a new rhythm.

Micah led me and Zoe spun me around when I arrived.

Some days my head is still spinning from the rock and roll beauty of motherhood. The way it gut punch takes your breath away with the sheer exhilaration – I grow babies, hear me roar.

I spin and spin and there in the distance is the small unremarkable speck of who I used to be.

I wave.

And the dance carries me on.

For those of you in the midst of the whirl and swirl and rhythm and rhyme of motherhood – I’d love to give you this: my wee, free eBook –> The Cheerleader for Tired Moms {just click to download}.

Much hard, tired, happy love,

Lisa-Jo

Click here to download my free eBook, “The Cheerleader for Tired Moms: A Collection of Posts from the Gypsy Mama” {please give it a few moments to download… cheering for you!}

Five Minute Friday: Identity

thegypsymama — Fri, 11 May 2012 04:00:11 +0000

On Fridays over here a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

Your words. This shared feast.

If you have five minutes, we have a writing challenge <—click to tweet this!

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Please visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments.

OK, are you ready? Facebook chimed in last night and overwhelmingly voted for a prompt either about mothers or Mother’s Day. This was one of the suggestions and I love that it can apply to any and all, mother or not. So please give me your best five minutes on:

Identity…

:

I didn’t plan to be a mother.

I didn’t want to be a mother.

For a long time I was the child that I bore deep inside. Selfish, whiney, scared of anything that wasn’t all about me.

You three? You have grown me up into a mother. Slowly most days. Fast most years. I have growing pains and stretch marks to prove it. I ache from being your mom. There’s the exhausted, feel-like-I-haven’t-slept-in-six years ache. And there’s the I-don’t-think-I-can-stand-to-clean-up-any-more-messes ache. And then there’s the I-love-you-so-much-it’s-like-someone-gut-punched-me ache.

Yea, that last one comes out of nowhere. You’re standing up in the bath with those four teeth and smudges of pizza sauce still sticking to your cheeks. Or you’re twirling around the room with your new puppy singing off key “I love you, I love you, I looovvee you Wolfie.” Or you’re so lost in your own imagination and the right hand corner of the back yard right there next to Eric’s house that you don’t hear me even the fifth time I call you in for dinner.

I love you right down to my guts.

These guts that swore they’d never end up barefoot and pregnant in some man’s kitchen.

Our amazing babysitter washed the kitchen floor today. I haven’t worn shoes in there in years. And I ran the pregnancy marathon three times. I was so wrong and so right at the same time.

Turns out there’s nothing cliche about a cliche. Unless it’s the people who use them to make other people feel small.

I have grown into this word – mother – and it fits. My favorite Budapest jeans might not any more, but the name mother? Yea, it’s all worn in just right.

STOP

{Subscribers, you can just click here to come over and play along}

Click here to download my free eBook, “The Cheerleader for Tired Moms: A Collection of Posts from the Gypsy Mama” {please give it a few moments to download… cheering for you!}

Mother’s Day for the motherless daughter

thegypsymama — Wed, 09 May 2012 04:00:07 +0000

My mom used to dance in the mornings.

A happy, shameless jig in her PJs right there out in the driveway as my dad drove us off to school. She’d dance and wave and grin and I could feel the love well up from my toes to my nose. It spilled out of me – this being someone’s daughter. Loved. Cherished. Celebrated.

She’s been dead now 18 years to the day since I turned 18.

Time passes and with it go the birthdays, anniversaries, new babies, first steps, preschool orientations, international moves, new jobs, hair color changes. And each milestone is a mile more in the road that we don’t walk together.

I am the motherless daughter.

If you are too, can I take your hand?

Can I stroke the hair back from your forehead and just be here with you? Can I whisper, “I know” and let you cry if you need to? Can I just sit a while beside you as you shout the hard questions?

I believe God can take it.

I believe He invites it.

…the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. Romans 8:26.

Go ahead and groan child. Let the part of you that never got to grow up with a mom weep if she needs to. You are beautiful and loved and not a single tear falls to the ground uncherished by the Father God who holds us both.

You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.
~Psalm 56:8

You are your mother’s daughter, created in your Father God’s image. And nothing can break that.

So let us celebrate quiet together. Whisper into the comments what you miss, what you loved, what you wish she might have done different, what you wish you’d said, what makes you your mother’s daughter. And today I will stop, remember, and rejoice with you, my beautiful friend!

Happy nearly mother’s day,

Lisa-Jo

::Click here to download my free eBook, “The Cheerleader for Tired Moms: A Collection of Posts from the Gypsy Mama” {please give it a few moments to download… cheering for you!}

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What every mom needs to hear now and again {and again and again}

thegypsymama — Tue, 08 May 2012 04:00:23 +0000

I’ve been a mom now for six and a half years.

There was a while there that I didn’t think I was going to make it. I was tired, run down and couldn’t figure out why it seemed so easy for everyone else. I was certain I was failing motherhood any time my first born failed to nurse, sleep or poop on “baby book” schedule.

Six years later and I’ve thrown most of those books away.

Motherhood isn’t graded. Some days it’s just barely survived.

So, what I write here is often for me more than anyone else. The me who felt lost and totally disoriented. The me who needed to be cheered on through the dark midnight nursing shifts and the public diaper blow outs and the irrational crying {on my part}.

What I write here is what I wish I’d known at the sleep deprived beginning.

That motherhood is both the hardest and most magnificent thing you will ever do.

And that makes you remarkable.

Not ordinary. As your dishes and diapers and cycles of laundry and sweeping and cleaning and car pooling and wiping babies drooling and vacuuming and math tutoring and volunteering and baking and every other in between-ing might try to tell you.

Extraordinary.

You are.

Click here to download my free eBook, “The Cheerleader for Tired Moms: A Collection of Posts from the Gypsy Mama” {please give it a few moments to download… cheering for you!}

My free ebook is coming to your inbox today! {The Cheerleader for Tired Moms}

thegypsymama — Mon, 07 May 2012 04:00:48 +0000

I’ve got a present for you.

And it’s the kind of present you can re-gift.

The Cheerleader for Tired Moms: A Collection of Posts by the Gypsy Mama

If you subscribe to this here blog {and have activated your email subscription}, it will show up in the footer of every emailed post from me or at the bottom of the post if you subscribe via a reader.

Just look for the line at the bottom of the post that says, “Click here to download my free eBook, The Cheerleader for Tired Moms: A Collection of Posts from the Gypsy Mama{please give it a few moments to download… cheering for you!}”

Not a subscriber yet? Just enter your email here and it’s headed your way too!

Want a sneak peek of what’s inside? Sure!

My friend Annie illustrated all the encouragement – and her drawings may be my favorite part of the book.

It’s fun. It’s heartfelt. It’s from me to you with so much love and a double thick chocolate milkshake.

You got this, even on the days you don’t.

Cheering you on every step of the way! And if you want to take a sec to just click here and share the eBook with other moms, it’d be a great way to pass on the encouragement!

Lisa-Jo

PS Happy early Mother’s Day, mom. I love you. And if you can’t figure out how to download it – don’t worry, I’m emailing you a copy Click here to download my free eBook, “The Cheerleader for Tired Moms: A Collection of Posts from the Gypsy Mama” {please give it a few moments to download… cheering for you!}

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Five Minute Friday: Real

thegypsymama — Fri, 04 May 2012 04:00:59 +0000

When last did you write for fun?

Not to impress anyone, not for blog hits or comments or Pinterest pins?

When last did you just write?

On Fridays over here a group of people who love to go all out buck wild for the fun of the written word gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

If you have writer’s block – we have the cure <—click to tweet this!

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking

2. Link back here and invite others to join in.

3. Please visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments.

OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes on:

Real…

:

Telling people how you’re really doing takes coming out of the nooks and crannies of your own life. Brush off that thing you didn’t do and that insecurity you were comfortably hiding behind and open your mouth to say what you really mean, not what you think they really wanted to hear.

Funny how sometimes they turn out to be the same thing.

Some women want to know. They want to know more than what car you drive and where you get your nails done. They want to bear down with you as we labor over real connection.

It can be uncomfortable to say the least.

We can stumble over our words and the shoes we choose to wear. We can wilt against walls – awkward flowers.

But if we’re willing to test the waterproof mascara and tell it like we live it, not like we wish we lived it, then maybe we can meet in the middle.

We can dish up another slice of that cake and feed the kids Cheerios while we feed ourselves what was missing yesterday.

Who understands a 10 day course of child laxative treatments better than another mother. Give us a green park bench at the edge of a basketball court behind and a jungle gym in front and we will laugh ourselves into embarrassing our kids. And we won’t care.

We’ll just keep remembering the insanity that is the ordinary every dayness of motherhood when there’s so much diarrhea only a pizza box is large enough to try and corral it. And no, I didn’t just say that out loud.

But maybe I did. Because if you looked over my shoulder that would be my real. Days of laundry cycles on “heavy” and large doses of Oxiclean.

But my how we laughed at the side of the elementary school on Tuesday and it spilled over into the rest of my week.

All that real.

STOP

PS: Meet Wolfie, the latest addition to our family. 10 week old Beagle mix pup we adopted and love and did I mention lurrrrv?

{Subscribers, you can just click here to come over and play along}

Click here to download my free eBook, “The Cheerleader for Tired Moms: A Collection of Posts from the Gypsy Mama” {please give it a few moments to download… cheering for you!}

The growing pains of motherhood

thegypsymama — Tue, 01 May 2012 04:00:43 +0000

I see you there.

Aching with tired and the desperate hope for a few moments alone this evening. I see you cleaning that carpet again. I see those dishes that are on a constant rinse and repeat cycle.

I see you settle down and get up and settle down and get up and settle down and get up a hundred times before 10pm.

I see you wondering where the melody is in this repetitive rhythm of motherhood.

I see you making lunches and trying to reinvent new ways to cook chicken. I see your relief at the one box of mac ‘n cheese left in the pantry and that pears can always pass as the “fruit and vegetable “serving in a pinch.

I see you building forts and chasing kids who are chasing puppies.

I see you talking to the neighbor over the fence and only realizing 10 minutes into the conversation that you’d clipped your bangs up at a crazy angle and you try to pull out the barrette hoping she wouldn’t have noticed.

I see you measuring your day in inches as the years stretch ahead in long miles.

I see you step on that scale and sigh off it again and swing baby to the hip juggling milk and bottle and pacifier in the slow dance toward the afternoon nap.

I see that coffee cup you forgot you left on the bookshelf three weeks ago and the trail of ants that snake over to the plate someone left by the side of your bed.

I see you juggle temper tantrums – sometimes your own.

I see you walk miles of school drops offs and pick ups and all the conversations in between with your own head and its running list of what you should-have-done different every day.

I see you stand next to all those other moms and wonder if they wonder in the middle of the night if Kindergarten parent-teacher conferences should really be this intimidating.

And sometimes I see you sit there and stare into space and wait to find the meaning in it all.

For the days that you don’t. For the days that someone demands another glass of chocolate milk or someone else needs to be changed first. For the days when the dryer buzzes before you finish your thoughts.

For those days, can I offer a different ending?

Can I slip in and change up where you’re headed in your head?

Because, here’s the thing.

You are the change.

You are the difference.

You are the art emerging from the hunk of dull marble.

You are the deeper meaning you’re looking for.

You are becoming a mother. And mothers are made not born.

Slowly. Like the pencil etchings on a door frame measuring inch by steady new inch of height. You are growing into a deeper version of yourself.

Some pain is to be expected.

But the good kind. The kind that comes with resetting broken limbs. Or carving away decay. Or chipping out the stone for the art that lies buried beneath.

You are not simply existing on a hamster wheel of sameness.

You are becoming.

Each load of laundry. Each dinner. Each boo-boo kissed and nightmare soothed. Each hour of “me” time traded for “family.” Each new wrinkle, each gray hair, each restless afternoon spent trying to make sense of a six-year-old’s world.

You are all these grooves chiseled onto a door frame.

Growing can be slow going.

But it is never meaningless.

Click here to download my free eBook, “The Cheerleader for Tired Moms: A Collection of Posts from the Gypsy Mama” {please give it a few moments to download… cheering for you!}

My weekend with 1,700 women {seeing is believing}

thegypsymama — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 07:00:47 +0000

What if you opened the door of your favorite beach house and discovered nearly 1,700 of your closest friends inside?

That’s a lot like how I felt this weekend.

Meeting you all – (in) real life.

This remarkable glimpse into the women and hearts and lives and smiles and stories of the (in)courage community.

You. Are. Beautiful.

Come, see – you don’t want to miss this ……{just click here}Click here to download my free eBook, “The Cheerleader for Tired Moms: A Collection of Posts from the Gypsy Mama” {please give it a few moments to download… cheering for you!}

Five Minute Friday: Community

thegypsymama — Fri, 27 Apr 2012 04:00:03 +0000

There are women who hold my heart.

Because they hold it tenderly.

They hold it like a treasure. They hold it with lots of trust wrapped up like so much fine, pink tissue paper.

Today we are all telling our stories about what it feels like to trust a friend. And not trust a friend. It’s a project I’ve been working on for nearly a year now.

You’re invited. Just as you are.

So let’s spend our five minutes of writing today, sharing about community. Fight it, love it, hate it, hurt or healed by it, we were certainly built for it.

Set a timer and just write. Don’t worry about making it just right or not.

Go all in with your words.

Are you ready?

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Please visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments.

OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes on:

Community…

:

GO:

Every Tuesday night I meet up with a group of women. Sometimes in room 108 at church and every other week at Panera. We’re suckers for the broccoli cheddar soup. Connie always wears the most beautiful jewelry. And Christy sometimes brings baby Taylor and it’s hard to swallow past that lump in the throat one gets when in the presence of a new, baby woman.

We eat and talk and sometimes we laugh so hard the guy who vacuums gives us that old stink eye. No one leaves with an empty belly or heart.

We eat up community like so many cinnamon crunch bagels.

I’ve lived a long time here in the Internet. I’m getting better at living out loud and in real life too.

It feeds me.

It nourishes my soul.

Hugging Mrs. Santiago so tight and hearing Carol share about her journey into the heart of the heart of motherhood. That and what nail “schlacking” is.

Jessica amazes us by turning vegan and sticking to it.

Sometimes my hair is washed and other times it isn’t. Sweat pants are always welcome. But Shawna will rock the 6 inch heels.

These are my people. They know about the impending new puppy and the week of diahorrea the four-year-old has put us through. When they ask me how I’m doing, I know I’m going to need to come up with more than, “just fine.”

STOP

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{Subscribers, you can just click here to come over and play along}

And I’m particularly fond of how my friend Holley – in the middle of the photo up there – described community today over on (in)courage.

Click here to download my free eBook, “The Cheerleader for Tired Moms: A Collection of Posts from the Gypsy Mama” {please give it a few moments to download… cheering for you!}