Keeping it real and raising good humans.
I’ve decided to start sharing a few blogs about our everyday life. Nothing fancy—just things like celiac-safe recipes, shopping lists, favorite subscriptions, how we homeschool, raising chickens, and creating a clean, toxic-free home. This is my first article, and it feels right to begin with what’s closest to my heart: raising kids with faith, simplicity, and a little magic.
Tonight, I’m actually able to sit down and write because my crazy husband pitched a tent by the pond and is camping out with the kids. I have the whole house to myself, and honestly? It’s so bizarre! This is a first for me, and I’m not quite sure what to do with all this quiet. Weird—but kind of amazing.
Raising Kids in Faith and Simplicity
Raising kids in faith and Catholicism these days feels like swimming upstream. My goal? To raise kind, hardworking humans who still believe in magic a little longer. I don’t want them rushed into growing up before they’re ready.
When you look at my social media, it might seem like we’re living a picture-perfect life: happy, healthy kids; a hardworking husband; me trying my best to keep it all together; and a backyard that often feels like a little slice of paradise. But the truth? My posts aren’t some curated highlight reel. They’re me, grabbing my phone in the middle of chaos to snap a picture or video of something I know I’ll want to remember.
Half the time, I’m torn. Do I reach for my phone to capture the moment, or do I just sit there and soak it in? When I’m fully present, I imagine my eyes are little camera shutters—chk, chk—taking pictures for my heart. Those moments? They’re mine. No one else’s.
Some memories stay private, and some are meant to share. I think sharing them reminds the world that you can raise smart, grounded, crazy, faithful kids without giving in to the madness of the world.
The Simplicity of Then vs. Now
Growing up, life was just… simpler. We’d wake up, pour a bowl of Froot Loops, sip some orange juice, and pop a Flintstones vitamin before plopping down for Saturday morning cartoons. After chores, it was a bologna sandwich, room-temperature Tang, and then we’d grab our bikes to find the neighborhood kids. Guys, we’d last 6 – 8 hours without a sip of water! What? HOW? LOL (Ok, maybe simpler, but definitely not a healthy childhood. Just kidding—those Flintstones vitamins are keeping me alive till at least 92!)
Our parents didn’t text each other to arrange playdates. They didn’t track us on phones. They just trusted we’d be okay because every mom on the block had an eye out for us. We came home when the streetlights turned on—maybe after playing a nighttime game of manhunt. We hid in bushes, climbed trees, and, if we were really in it to win, jumped in someone’s pool to hide. By bedtime, we were so wiped out we hit the pillow and crashed.
The next day? Church, brunch at the old country buffet, a whole day outside, and dinner—meatloaf, canned green beans, and boxed scalloped potatoes. (Edited after my beautiful momma read my blog. *Sunday dinner was usually Roast Beef and mashed potatoes!)
Life feels so different now—but honestly? It doesn’t have to be.
Our Version of Simplicity
We don’t live in a neighborhood with sidewalks or a pack of kids running around. And yeah, that makes me a little sad sometimes. I feel like my kids are missing out. But we did manage to scoop up 5 acres before the market went crazy, and our kids are finding their own version of that simpler life.
They run barefoot, chase chickens, run from roosters, build ramps for their bikes, and play on the monkey bars. We pray before meals, sit together as a family, talk about the favorite part of our day—and the not-so-favorite parts. It’s not perfect, but it’s ours. And I think it’s enough.
It’s a privilege to give our kids a sacred childhood—a chance to linger in the innocence of being young, without the weight of the world pressing on them too soon. But part of that privilege also means teaching them about the world they’ll eventually step into.
Our kids know the world is a mix of good and bad. They see kindness and generosity, but they’re also learning hard truths: how people can struggle, how life isn’t always fair, and how standing firm in your faith and values is so important.
If you know me, you know our mold story. You know our kids had to throw away absolutely everything—every favorite stuffed animal, every blankie they loved. They’ve had their fair share of bad luck too.
But what matters is how you react to those moments. Have they seen me cry? All the time. Have they heard me shout? Absolutely. My kids are just like any kids—they talk back, yell, cry, throw tantrums, and act spoiled. They do all the things that make us parents cringe a little. But what we do with those moments is what really counts.
I cried so many tears over losing our home and having to rebuild a second time in two years. But that’s not what they remember. To them, tiny home life was an adventure—showering outside, whispering “goodnight” across the room for the fifth time because we all shared one space, cooking every meal on the grill or griddle, and homeschooling in the RV. They remember that we did it to give them a clean, healthy home. A home that wasn’t “sick.”
We also teach them to be truth seekers. Don’t believe everything you read or hear—dig deeper, ask questions, find reliable sources, and seek the truth. It’s a skill they’ll carry with them for the rest of their lives, shaping how they see the world and how they choose to act within it.
For Every Parent
Social media makes parenting feel like a competition, doesn’t it? You scroll and see all these kids signed up for every sport, music class, theater, and dance. If you’re one of those parents making all that happen, I think you’re amazing. Seriously. But here’s the thing: parenting isn’t one-size-fits-all. I don’t think one way is better or worse—it’s just different for every family.
If you’re more like me—just trying to keep everyone clothed and in shoes that actually fit—the thought of cleats, leotards, and endless registrations might just give you hives.
At the end of the day, raising kids isn’t about perfection. It’s about love, faith, and teaching them to be good humans. Whether that happens in your backyard, on a soccer field, or in a dance studio—it all matters. What counts is the heart you pour into it, not how it looks to anyone else.
I share what I can because I want to remember. I also hope to encourage other parents to embrace the messy, imperfect, and beautiful parts of raising kids. It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.
I hope you take the time to capture those photos with your eyes and heart—chk, chk. Because those moments? They’re the ones that matter the most. Here are a few snapshots from our life lately—messy, real, and full of love.
Blue skies and endless adventures,
Heather Anne