Blissfully Informed Hippie Chick

Encouraging people to think critically about everything.

What is love? 

I have been experiencing an awakening of self, healing my past trauma and uncovering my authentic self. Part of my “becoming” has been realizing that I treated myself as if I were a servant, and was treated as one in return. I considered my own needs last, if at all. I was resentful of it, but I think I knew I was allowing it to continue, so I blamed myself. 
But it’s not my fault. Not entirely. My responsibility lies in healing that part of me, because I didn’t choose to be this way. I was taught this by the people when I was young who subjected me to emotional and physical trauma…”subjected” me…this word has deeper meaning to me now. “Subjected”…”subject”…a person under the rule of someone else. My parents, as most parents still do, treated me like a subject. A thing to be owned. 
“MY child”. 
The language that we use to describe the people in our lives is so possessive…”MY husband”, “MY mom”, “MY friend”. We treat them like possessions, too. “You can’t do that, you’re MINE!” We try to control them, and we say it’s out of love. And we do it to our kids most of all. It’s like we measure love in degrees of control. We’ve all seen that meme…

This is the perfect example of control being equated with love.  This is the stuff that the majority of parents cheer for! What’s interesting is that if you replace a few key words, it somehow becomes something that we readily recognize as terrifying, and not love at all…

I know, I know, “But that’s different! It’s two adults! Kids need to be controlled!” I would like to remind you real quick that it wasn’t even 100 years ago that men knew that women needed to be controlled. It wasn’t even 200 years ago that people knew that slaves needed to be controlled. We see these abuses for what they are now: terrible acts of violence and oppression, the theft of freedom and autonomy. Huge swaths of humanity branded “less than”, “unintelligent”, “subhuman”. That’s exactly what we’re still doing to our children, though. In every tiny little way, we are sending the message to our kids that they’re stupid, inexperienced, and incapable. “You don’t know what you want or need!” “You can’t do that.” “Let me do that for you.” This creates an endless loop of self-doubt and lack of confidence. Then we stack on top of that loop an endless barrage of commands: “Take out the trash, go get dressed, do your homework, go to school, walk the dog, come over here, listen to me, do what I say, don’t talk back, go to your room…” And we expect this to be done right now! If we’re met with resistance, we start to use biting sarcasm and insults, wrapped in absolutes: “Oh my God, just do the dishes! Can’t you see they need to be done? Why can you never just do them? It’s not that hard! You think I want to do the dishes?” To finish it off, we use blame and shame and try to convince them that they’re responsible for our emotions: “Fine, don’t do the dishes, I’ll do the dishes, just like always. I’m the only one who does anything around here. No one ever helps me. I guess you guys just don’t love me. You make me so angry and sad.” 


How do I know? Because I’m guilty of it, too. It was done to me, and I’ve been doing it to my kids. I have to stop. I know this because I can see now what it did to me. I feel responsible for everyone’s emotions. I run around trying to prevent anyone from ever needing anything. I just do everything myself. I wash everyone’s laundry, I cook everyone’s food, I wash everyone’s dishes, I pick up everyone’s trash and dirty dishes and toys and dirty clothes and I put them all away. All the time. I’m so burnt out. I had convinced myself for a long time that I loved this life. I wanted to love it, because I thought that if I didn’t keep everyone happy, they wouldn’t love me. Because growing up the way I did, with authoritarian parents, taught me that love is conditional. It also taught me that all self-interest is “bad”. I know now that true love doesn’t possess those qualities. 

A dear friend of mine has told me repeatedly, “Love is allowance.” Allowance is the opposite of control. In order to really love anyone else, though, we must first love ourselves. We must allow ourselves to BE. 
I’m learning to love myself. I’m learning that I have worth. I’m learning that subservience isn’t love. I’m learning that I’m not responsible for other’s happiness or anger or disappointment. I’m learning to respect myself. I’m learning to not take responsibility for things that aren’t mine. I’m learning to stand up for myself and say “no”. I’m learning that I don’t have to help everyone all the time. I’m learning that my needs and wants are no less valuable than anyone else’s. 
And so, this morning, as I began picking up my two older children’s trash from their snack last night, I stopped myself. I literally told myself, out loud, “No! Stop! What are you doing? You don’t have to do that! Put it back!” I listened to myself. I put everything back on the kitchen counter where it was, and I symbolically embraced myself. 

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Who am I?

I have been on this journey…of self-discovery. Of uncovering my true self, removing my masks, learning to love myself. 
Almost 2 years ago, I was crashing. I thought I had hit rock bottom at this point, but I wasn’t even close. I wrote this

I am…

I am…afraid.
I wonder…why I’m here.
I hear…the voices of my children.
I see…chaos all around.
I want…to disappear.
I am…terrified of dying.
I pretend…to be happy.
I feel…so very much alone.
I touch…my body, but it doesn’t feel like me.
I worry…that all hope is lost.
I cry…in silence, alone.
I am…a failure.
I understand…that I’m my own worst enemy.
I say…things I don’t believe.
I dream…of feeling free.
I try…to see the Light.
I hope…my soul can heal.
I am…afraid.

I want to re-write that now. I haven’t been re-born, I’m just becoming who I always have been. 

Allow me to introduce you to me! What makes me ME? Well, for starters…

Naked yoga on my bed…

Meditating barefoot in the grass in the early morning…

Creating things…

Wearing long, flowing skirts…

Going braless…

Having messy hair…

Taking cool showers in the hot summer heat (preferably with my husband)…

Laughing with someone over anything, as long as we’re really laughing…

Smoking weed…

Perusing the shelves of a library or bookstore…

Having wild, raucous, passionate sex for so long that I collapse into a mess on the bed/floor/couch/whatever and gasp, “I…just…can’t…move…anymore…” (and then somehow getting one last burst of energy to finish)…

Talking about anything and everything, as long as it’s real…

This is me. Raw and unfiltered. Authentic. 

And now, for a new poem…

I Am

I am…human. 
I wonder…what forever feels like. 
I hear…songs of unity and hope. 
I see…people hurting, pretending, dying. 
I want…this moment, right here. 
I am…alive!
I pretend…nothing anymore.
I feel…happy. 
I touch…the lives of everyone I meet, in some way. 
I worry…sometimes, that I won’t be able to accept each moment I’m given with grace. 
I cry…for the little girl I was. 
I am…not that little girl anymore. 
I understand…everything so clearly now.
I say…too much, sometimes. 
I dream…of peace on Earth. 
I try…to allow myself to be. 
I hope…I’ve fully enjoyed this moment. 
I am…Alicia. 

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“Proper English”

“Proper English” is one of the many tools of supremacy conciousness.

A Facebook friend of mine said this today. 

I had never thought of it from this perspective before. I have a confession to make…

I’m a Grammar Nazi.

I am constantly finding grammatical and spelling errors in newspapers, books, magazines, etc. It drives me crazy. “I should be their editor!” I shriek. But why? Why do I fucking care if they forgot to use a period or misspelled words? I have another confession to make…

I’m hanging onto the usage of “it’s” as a possessive and not just a contraction. It was used that way up until about 200 years ago, when the apostrophe was dropped and used for contractions only. I think it makes more sense the old way. Which brings me to another confession…

I love old writings with the original spellings and grammar intact. I love them because it gives us this amazing glimpse into the evolution of language. They show us how we acquired this language we now know as English. We see how expansion of language, especially English, took off with things like conquests and the invention of the printing press. New words, new ways of spelling words, new sentence structures; all began to evolve at a rapid pace during these times. Isn’t that what we’re seeing now? With the advent of the internet, and then email, chatting, online news, blogs, MySpace, Facebook, YouTube, Snapchat, and every other method of sharing information online, we have likely entered the largest explosion of language evolution we’ve ever seen. Words and acronyms are being created and accepted by the general population at a rapid pace. This explosion of language is incredible! People from all over the world are coming here, right now, to read my blog! Wow! I love that, too! Confession time again…

My ridiculous habit of finding errors in what I know is a beautiful, fluid art form (I’m talking about writing here) is a symptom of my anxiety. It stems from a need to control. I have been fighting all my various urges to control for years now. Today, I learned of yet another. 

And so, I would like to hereby resign my position as Grammar Nazi. I vow that, from this day forth, I will do my best to be aware of my urges to control others’ artistic expression. I will try to remember that we could very well be birthing a universal human language here. Wow. Let that sink in. Wouldn’t that be incredible? Or perhaps even better, through technology, we will have our universal translators at last! Each language could be preserved, in it’s intricate uniqueness, and yet we could still understand each other. That’s a beautiful thought…

Until then, I’m embracing this evolutionary tide. (I’m also keeping my dictionaries…of which I have several, of various publication dates.)

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Why Kicking My Kids Out of My Bedroom is Self – Love 

I have 4 kids. They have all slept with me, in my bed and/or my room, at one time or another. My younger 2 kids are about to turn 3 and 4 next month. The youngest, Bobby, has slept in our bed and room almost every single night of his life. I honestly loved it most of the time. I think bed sharing and co-sleeping are beautiful, natural things. It helped get me through having 2 kids less than a year apart, for sure! But recently, I’ve begun to realize, I want my room back. 

I devised a plan, set a timeline, they were excited! The first two nights went smoothly and it was amazing! And then…

Night 3…

Bobby decided he didn’t want to sleep without me. He said the futon isn’t comfy. 

I got desperate.  

I told him daddy could put the twin mattress on top of the futon and make a Super Bed!!!

They got excited for a few minutes, then Bobby went back to not wanting to sleep in the other room. 

I made a decision right then and there: there’s no going back. Sometimes, taking care of myself and my relationship with my husband is more important than my kids not wanting to do something. 

Mind you, I held Bobby. I sang to him, even an extra song. I rocked him for a long time. I assured him. I stayed next to him until he was asleep. He quit crying as soon as I started rocking him. He was fine. 

And guess what? He was all smiles as soon as he woke up and I picked him up this morning! 

Saying “no” to my kids is sometimes really hard. What I need to remind myself is that I’m not just saying “no”  to Bobby, I’m saying “yes” to me. “Yes” to my relationship with my husband. 

I have never been good at balance. I have recently realized that I’m either all-selfish or all-sacrificial. Usually the latter. 

I’ve got to stop. 

I don’t even know who I am, not fully. I’m getting there, but I still listen to the voice in my head that all-too-often tells me that I should worry about what other people think more than what I think. 

Bobby and Natalie sleeping in their own bed now isn’t just about them growing up. It’s not just about having sex in my own room, with the lights on, loudly (though that’s a huge bonus!). It’s about me saying, “I’ve given as much as I’m capable of giving in this area of my life. It’s my turn now. It’s time to take care of myself. It’s time to give myself what I need.”

I remember a magnet that my grandma had on her fridge when I was a kid. It said “If mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” I can see the truth in that now. Not just mama, but all the adults in the house, really. If one of us is in a bad mood, the kids behave accordingly. We are a highly connected species, we feed off the emotions of others around us, especially those we spend most of our time with. 

Happiness is a choice, yes; but it’s a hell of a lot easier to make that choice when I’m physically and mentally healthy. 

I have to take care of me. Not just because of the fact that, by taking care of me, I’m taking care of everyone else. No, I have to take care of me because I love myself and know that I deserve to be healthy in every way. 

Loving myself isn’t selfish. True love can’t be selfish. True love says, “I want what’s best for you.” Self-love recognizes that it’s up to me to get what’s best for myself. 

Kicking my kids out of my bedroom is the biggest act of self-love I could preform at this time in my life. ❤

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Yes, my house is dirty. 

You know why it’s so hard to keep a house clean when you have kids? It goes something like this…

I got the two littlest ones to play together nicely…which I knew would last about 2.3 minutes. So I walked into the kitchen, shook my head at the mess, then thought, “The counter! It’s almost cleared off right now… weird… but I’ll roll with it. I’ll clean it real quick!”

Then it began. 

I saw the spice rack, which has the missing spice jar, because it had to be washed. It was washed by my husband and dried and put away by my 11 year old, who doesn’t know where everything goes in our new kitchen yet, and who was involved in some sort of magnificent race with her father to see who could wash or dry faster. Anyway…

I thought, “Maybe the jar is in this cabinet…” I opened the cabinet and was met with complete chaos. Everything just kind of thrown in. So I started organizing containers and measuring cups. I heard the little ones start arguing and then I lost my focus completely. One of them came in to tell me their troubles and it was around that time when I couldn’t even remember why I was organizing the cabinet. I suddenly remembered, “Spice jar!”… but it wasn’t there…

“Probably up with the cups and shot glasses,” I thought to myself. Then…

I’m not actually sure what happened next… things happen in such rapid succession around here that I can sometimes not keep up! Something with the kids diverted my attention. 

I wound up in the bathroom, and began writing this. Because the toilet is the one place I might get some peace for a minute. With the door open, of course. I gave up on closed bathroom doors awhile ago. 

Then one child came in and asked about the picture I drew on the white board. I was hoping she would, because she is very interested in drawing. So I went and drew more and encouraged her to draw. She got frustrated and wanted her bottle. She went to try and find her bottle while I washed the other one’s cup. I got him a drink while the other called to me that she couldn’t find her bottle. 

I walked into the bedroom to find that she had not even turned on the light to look. I turned on the light, found the bottle, took it to the kitchen, washed it, filled it. Drank the other one’s juice left in his cup, rinsed it, filled it with milk. 

… sometime in there, I started heating up chicken strips…

And now, the chicken is done, the little ones are playing quietly, and I’m standing here in front of the counter that never got washed and the spice rack with a  still-missing jar. 

Yeah…a typical 45 minutes at my house. 

*Update*

The spice jar was found and filled with paprika and the counter was cleaned. Then I made the mistake of opening the fridge to put a bottle away while holding a wet washcloth…I ended up wiping the fridge down. Just the visible parts, though. And not that one spot of stuck on, blueberry yogurt. I don’t have time to scrub it all off…

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Kindness is not Weakness

Awake at 530 for the 2nd day in a row. Before you say, “Ooh I’m sorry!”…I chose this. Why? Well, apparently this is a novel concept, so I’ll tell you…

My husband started a new job a couple days ago (yay!), we’re really crossing our fingers that this one leads to a permanent gig. This man has to leave at 6am to work 7am-5pm, and won’t be home again until about 6pm. That’s 12 hours away from home, away from his wife and kids, 5 days a week. And it’s no cushy job. He busts his ass to provide for the kids and I monetarily, and that allows me to homeschool the older two and not drop the younger two at daycare all day. I am beyond grateful to have a husband who understands how important this is to me, and shares my belief in it’s importance. 

So you know what? To show him just how much I love him and appreciate all he does for us, I willingly wake up at 5:30am and make him some breakfast and make sure he has some good food and snacks to take with him. 

No, this does not make me a “1950s” housewife. No, I do not feel obligated to do this for him every day… If I feel I need to stay in bed that extra hour or two before my youngest wakes up, you bet your ass I will! And yes, my husband would make or buy himself some food if I didn’t make it for him. 
I do it because I can. I do it because I’m good at making food. I do it because I love him. I do it because I actually enjoy his company, because we are best friends. And because starting my day talking and laughing with him and getting a kiss before he walks out the door and is gone literally half the day is probably the best way I can think of to start my day. Also, bonus!…I can drink a cup or two of coffee and write long posts like this and use the bathroom and maybe even eat some breakfast all BEFORE a horde of tiny humans wakes and demands all my attention, time, and energy! It makes me feel kinda human! Even better, it makes me feel like a human who takes care of those I love.

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Taking Back My Power 

My #1 greatest challenge in my journey toward being a peaceful person: 

Yelling.  

I have always yelled. My mom was a yeller. I learned from a young age that yelling is power. When I was yelled at, I felt powerless. I felt small and weak and out of control. I felt shameful and bad. 

I learned to yell back at her in an attempt to take back my power. I yelled and screamed, I slammed doors and threw things. But I didn’t like it; I hated what I was doing. I would inevitably get sent to my room, where I would rage until I dissolved into a puddle of tears. I never “won”. I never succeeded in taking my power back. It was incredibly depressing. This is the point at which my thoughts would eventually turn to suicide. If my memory is correct, I had my first suicidal thought at just 11 years old. Suicide seemed to be the ultimate take-back of power in my life that I so desperately longed for. 

I struggled with this feeling of powerlessness even into adulthood, because power to me meant controlling others. I could never seem to succeed at grasping that power, though; no matter how much I yelled and raged, no matter how much I tried to control others. What took me a long time to realize was that being powerful as an individual doesn’t equate control of others; being powerful as an individual happens when I have full control of myself. 

Self-control. 

It’s what I sought as a child and what I never learned. It’s what I’m learning now. I can’t control my children, or anyone else around me. I can only control myself and my own reactions. 
When situations arise that trigger my feelings of helplessness, of powerlessness, my default response is anger. This really has nothing to do with my children or my husband or anyone else, but it has everything to do with my unhealed emotional trauma. It’s a signal in my brain that the wiring it received when I was young was unhealthy. 

Healing that trauma is the biggest step toward being able to respond differently to those around me in the future. As I continually work on that healing, as situations arise that trigger that trauma, what helps me the most is to begin by taking a deep breath (or maybe a few) and stepping outside myself and into my child’s perspective (or whomever else is triggering my response). I ask myself, “What is their intent here?” and I verbalize to them, “What are you doing here, what are you trying to achieve?” What usually looks like a big mess or chaos to me has a greater purpose to my children. What others do that may be initially incomprehensible to me has great meaning and purpose to them. Once the intent of my children has been established, I can move into my ideal parenting role of teaching and guiding, rather than controlling and dominating. Once the perspective of others is understood, I can move into a place of compassion and commonality rather than rightness and division. I find that once the initial urge to yell and rage has subsided, the remainder of the interaction becomes easy, and even enjoyable. 

Peace. 

Peace begins within. I can’t be a peaceful in my interactions with others when my inner self is in turmoil. 

“Be the change you wish to see in the world.”  – Mahatma  Gandhi  

I used to misunderstand this quote. I thought that “being the change” was how I could change the world. I was wrong. The only person I can control is me. The change I wish to see in the world? I should try to live it; not for the sake of changing others, but for the sake of being the person I would like to be. 

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A Transformation

I preface this piece of prose with this: I have hesitated in publishing these words out of doubt. I feel their truth in my soul, but I doubt it with my mind. I desire authenticity, though. So I share this, my soul, with you now…

A Transformation



The shedding of the false self
Re-birth
The Phoenix, rising from the ashes
How can one un-know what one has discovered? 
Growth
Continual change
Sometimes slow, sometimes sudden
Jerking forward
Launching me into the unknown
New territory
Hidden paths
Thoughts I never knew I possessed
It feels like death
Constricting
Full of fear
Panic
Unknown
But is it death? 
Or merely re-birth? 
Growth
Change
The turning of the wheel of time
The changing of the seasons of life
Knowledge
Understanding
Wisdom
Insight
I can’t be the same person I was before
I don’t even recognize that person when I look back
I pity her
But I don’t
She knew all she knew
She had only her experiences to draw on
I have more
More perspective
More knowledge
I’ve gained so much in so few years, it feels like a new lifetime
A new life
Re-birth
The death of the old me
Bitter
Angry
Frustrated
Confused
Inexperienced
Naive
Lost
And the birth of a new me
The beginning
Life renewed
I had wanted to kill myself
And I did
I am no longer her
There are remnants, memories
But they don’t feel like me
I feel transformed
Alive in a way I never was before
Like I’ve come out of a fog
Out of a deep slumber
Out of a cave
Into a new world
A new time
A new understanding
Is this the death I saw? 
The death I have felt for more than 2 years? 
The imminent doom? 
The feeling of dread? 
The thoughts that have consumed me, captivated me, suffocated me…
Can a soul live two lifetimes within one body?
Without physical death separating the two? 
A transformation of spirit within one body? 
A new existence bearing the same face? 
Or is it the same? 
I cannot tell
My old self seems a hollow shell
An empty vessel
A lost soul
Wandering
Searching
Trying to make sense of this world
This reality
This time and place
I feel as though the hollowness of me has been filled
With meaning
Purpose
Understanding
I feel I have so much more to offer this place
These people
Other lost souls
Searching for the truth
Searching for answers
I don’t know all of the answers, but I know the most important one
WE are one
We are entangled
Interwoven on a level that most cannot see
But it exists all the same
I see it
All around me
The patterns
The web of interconnectedness
The force that binds us all together
We are so lost, we humans
But there is a way back
To harmony
To peace
To coexistence
People say I’m too optimistic, but I can’t help what I see
It’s so tangibly real to me
I can almost reach out and touch it
I am here to help them see
To help them believe once more
That there is good in us all
That peace is within our grasp
That harmony is but a generation away
It’s not just a dream
We must just believe
Have faith
Know
Be

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A Journey of a Million Tiny Steps

My nearly 3 year old, Natalie came to me a little bit ago and said “Na-Na hair cut” while holding her hair. (“Na-Na” is her name for herself.) After a few questions, I confirmed that she wants her hair cut to her shoulders. I told her that she should think about it some more and talk to daddy about it later. I explained we that once it’s cut, we can’t put it back on, but that it will grow back slowly. I told her that after she thought about it more, if she still wants it cut, I’ll do it. I feel that it’s important to respect her wishes, especially because this is about the age when our older two girls cut their own hair without my knowledge.

I love that my toddler came to me with her desire instead of trying to do it secretly. It makes me feel really good about the trust she has in me, the depth of our connection.

Autonomy over one’s hair is such a non-issue compared to important things like physical safety. I was so upset when my older girls cut their hair. And now, I can’t tell you how often I feel like going back in time and shaking myself by the shoulders and telling myself to wake up and stop stressing over such petty things!

Sometimes, looking back at my old Facebook posts is really painful. Seeing my statuses about spanking the older girls for the stupidest things. Being so exasperated at what I now know is normal child behavior. It makes me cringe.

It breaks my heart when I see other parents locked in power struggles and screaming matches with their kids. For more reasons than one. Now, I understand how badly those parents are hurting. How frustrated and confused they are. How badly they want their kids to grow up to be responsible, kind adults, but how clueless they are as to how to encourage those traits. And how most parents are actually doing better with their kids than was done to them, so I see how much pain they’re carrying around that they may not even realize they have.

But how do you kindly and gently tell people to look in the mirror and change themselves when they ask in desperation how to get their kids to “obey”? How do you even begin to explain to them that obedience isn’t the goal of parenting? How do you get them to admit that their parents did the best they could with what they knew, but obviously what they knew wasn’t good enough?

I’m at a loss of how to simplify the last 5 years of my life, my journey from authoritarianism to peacefulness. Because that’s what it’s been. A journey of a million tiny steps that have led me to where I am now.

I think the only way to show others is to invite them into my world, into my home, and show them what parent-child relationships can be like. How family time can be peaceful. How chores don’t have to be a struggle. And then wait for them to ask, “How do you do that?” And then explain that I can only truly control me, I can only change me. And once I began to change myself, my relationships were changed in the process.

I guess the problem is that everyone is unique, so what needs to change, and in what order, will be different for everyone. I suppose the bottom line is letting go of controlling others and beginning to control myself. I guess if I had to simplify it, that’s what I’d say.

I’m not perfect, not by any stretch of the imagination. But I’m trying. I’m growing. I’m learning. I can look back over the last 5 years and see the incredible strides I’ve made. My journey is mine alone, it won’t look exactly like anyone else’s. But maybe my mistakes and realizations can help others in their own journeys. At the very least, maybe my admissions can help others not feel so alone in their transformation.

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We Need Your Help

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I am a pretty self-sufficient person. I began working to earn money when I was 11, mowing my neighbor’s front yard for $3 per week. I did other odd jobs for family and friends, too. House-sitting, dog walking, babysitting, stuffing envelopes at my grandma’s office. I even cleaned a dance studio in exchange for lessons at just 12 years old! I continued to work wherever and whenever I could until I got married, just before my 20th birthday. I got pregnant very shortly thereafter and began my dream job of being a stay at home mom. My husband has always been supportive of my decision to stay home with the kids. Now that the older two are home schooled, I have even more reason to stay home. But this means my husband is the sole breadwinner in our family. He works very hard to support us. We sacrifice a lot of “extras” in order to make this dream a reality. We don’t eat out, we don’t have cable or satellite, we don’t go on vacations, we buy everything we can from thrift stores or yard sales, I pack lunch for my husband to take to work.

While I have nothing at all against welfare (we’ve received various benefits more than once!), we prefer to take care of ourselves when possible. We take great pride in pinching pennies to afford good food and fun, inexpensive day trips for our kids (like hiking, picnicking, and other local activities).

But hard times come to us all. Which leads me to the part where we need your help. My husband lost his job a few weeks ago. He has since found a new job, but it is 4 hours away. He is living out of our suburban while he starts work, while I pack up the house with the kids. Our plan is to tent camp until we have saved up enough cash to rent a new house. We have just enough saved up now to get us a little storage unit for our few household items we can’t take, and gas to drive our two vehicles up north where my husband is now working. We don’t mind the camping part, at all! We think it’ll be a great adventure. But the reality is that it could take us a few months to save up enough to pay first and last month’s rent, deposits, utilities, etc. Not to mention paying our cell phone and car insurance bills, along with food and supplies. We are keeping our spirits up, because we really just want to be together. And this will be the easiest way for us to save money anyway. But getting a little boost of help would be most welcome. So I have started an online fundraiser to raise some money for our expenses. If you are able to give, we will humbly accept any amount you can afford. If not, we would still welcome your warm thoughts, prayers, and well-wishes. Thanks for taking the time to read this! Now here’s the link to our fundraiser:

https://www.crowdrise.com/the-johnson-family-move

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