I admit. I was a bit off from the moment I woke up this morning. I know myself well, and something wasn’t quite right. I wasn’t super friendly when my husband asked if I could go to the bank today to pick up all the cash we needed for the next two weeks. He left for work right after that and I gave him a half-hearted good bye. I intended to text him with an apology for the lackluster good bye, but got distracted by kid stuff. Sorry, babes.

The kids wanted to go to the zoo for our summer bucket list and I had no good reason to say no, so after morning trumpet lessons, we made our way to the animals.

It was the last day to get in on regular rate for the girls’ day camp at church, so we stopped in to pay as we passed. I wondered. Why does God always seem to have an important church errand for me to do when I’m feeling a little off, when I’m feeling a little vulnerable and worn? And why do I always run into pastors who want to know how I’m doing? Hmmm…imagine that. Pastors at a church. Asking how people are doing. Revolutionary. Perhaps our Heavenly Father is on to something there.

After a quick (or not so quick) lunch at Taco Bell (there was an extraordinarily long lunch line), we were finally on our way to the zoo.

I was still feeling off, emotionally and spiritually not quite right. Like I would be better off home by myself today or doing something quiet in isolation or going to a retreat center where nuns could tend my soul. But there was no way I was going to let my feelings get the best of our day. The kids were excited and well behaved and I was determined to join in the fun.

So I did.

My son put on loud music for us to listen to as we traveled the interstate. My daughter talked my ear off with stuff she was excited about. I answered questions and taught them some practical things they didn’t know before. We imagined ourselves living in St. Paul and the kids agreed they like to visit, but wouldn’t want to live there. All was good and after a while, we arrived at the zoo.

We got a pretty decent parking spot, emptied ourselves from the car, got the youngest in her stroller (in case of lack-of-nap meltdown), and made our way to the zoo entrance.

The new gardens were beautiful. I soaked in the various plantings, including some tropicals we don’t usually see outdoors in Minnesota. We admired the lily pads and breathtaking flowers in the water garden. The two oldest loved lilac. I loved the dark red one partially hidden behind a pad. I could have lingered longer, but the baby was running ahead and the kids were ready to go. Still. It was nice to move and get out with nature.

Step by step. Stop by stop. The four of us made our way through the zoo.

Ducks. Sea lions. Penguins. A polar bear. Bison and other horned and hoofed animals. Lions. Tigers. Kudus. Zebras. Gorillas. Orangutans. A rare wolf sighting. Pressed pennies. And even a little time in the fun park without spending a dime.

We took our time. We didn’t rush. We stopped to take photos when we felt like it. We enjoyed the animals and each other.

We moved right through that zoo. The pace was perfect. Nobody crabbed until the end. And my spirits weren’t perfect, but notably lifted by the exit.

On our way home, we picked up some ice cream cones with sprinkles and dip from Dairy Queen. I got a chocolate cone with chocolate dip. Good for the soul. Good for the taste buds, too.

The zoo.

Total Cost: $8-something for the cones

Mom Lesson: When we’re in a funk, it might be better to continue moving through the day rather than sitting and dwelling on whatever’s ailing us. 

Kid Lesson: As long as you’re a tiny bit creative, it doesn’t take much to satisfy kids’ curiosity.

This post is part of a summer-long series titled Summer Bucket List. This is my first summer home full-time with our three children. My hope for this series is that it will challenge me to adventure out of my mothering comfort zone, will provide opportunities to live and write simply, practically, beautifully and meaningfully, and will stimulate some some fun ideas for your summer as well! To check out the entire series, click here and you’ll be directed to the introductory post where all the posts are listed and linked for easy reading. Enjoy, friends! And have a blessed summer.

 

We picked two summer bucket list items for the day’s adventure. Ice cream party and a park. They went together naturally.

Our oldest daughter was away at camp for the week, so it was just me, our son and “the baby.” We made our way to the lake, a quaint and coveted place where wealth meets nature, a place we don’t frequent much at all, but should more often.

It was easy, really.

We parked.

We walked to Ben & Jerry’s ice cream shop.

The 12 year old chose a small cup of “Cookie Dough,” and I chose a cup of “Late Night Dough” to share with the three year old. Chocolate cookie dough, peanut butter cookie dough, and cookie dough? Oh yeah, and a little ice cream with that dough, please. Who could ask for more?

As we strolled to a park bench, the 12 year old surprised me with these words.

“Thank you very much, mom. This is fun!”

Who knew a small cup of ice cream and a stroll could make a kid so happy?

They ate.

I ate.

We said “hi” to two dogs, Romeo and Lucky, who passed with their owners.

When the baby finished her portion of “Late Night Dough,” she rummaged around under the park bench, picking up rocks, bugs and a bunch of dirt.

On we went. Down the sidewalk. Down the street. Alongside the railroad track. Around the old train station turned museum. Past the dainty light pink roses wrapping around a trellis. Past the man sitting on the park bench who clearly knew this place all too well.

There it was.

The shining star.

A tiny community with bridges, churches, farms and depots. The miniature train wasn’t up and running, but that didn’t make the scene any less alluring.

We made one round. Two rounds. Another round. I held her hand that third time around. She walked the ledge. There was freedom in the walking, with nobody there to yell or suggest get down, go away, don’t do that. I knew she was okay up there. I had her hand most all the way. All was good. Very good.

It was time to move on.

We strolled towards the water, towards big boats, yachts, really. The 12 year old suggested we’ll probably get one of those someday. “Yeah, maybe we’ll get a boat someday,” I agreed casually, not wanting to burst his bubble quite yet. After all, maybe he will have a yacht someday.

After a while strolling the dock and holding hands vigilantly with the three year old, we came upon a launch with clean, easy access to the water’s edge. Rocks littered the ground. Nobody was around. It was just us, the water and the rocks.

The 12 year old began throwing stones, one after another after another. “I’m going to skip stones,” he exclaimed. I couldn’t remember the last time he had an opportunity to skip stones. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw him skip stones. He was great at it. Awesome, in fact. He knew just how to throw to skip, skip, skip. Ripple, ripple, ripple. So cool. So simple.

Then she began to throw stones, too. I thought she might pick up on the fact that her stones were just plopping in while his were skimming. Nope. She had no clue. She was just as elated by her plop as he was by his skim. She cheered. He cheered. She smiled. He smiled. Life was good.

After a long while of plopping and skipping stones, he said “Let’s just say here as long as we want, until we get bored.” “Okay,” I said. “Great idea.”

So we did.

I sat.

I watched.

I chilled.

And took a few pictures.

They plopped and skipped stones in the water repeatedly. As many as they wanted. I swear it was the best fun they’ve had in a long time.

The fun finally fizzled a bit. We agreed it was time to continue our walk down the dock.

 

We found ourselves a park on the beach, another quaint spot we’d only been once on the way to family pictures a few years ago. There was sand everywhere. So she took off her shoes. He kept his on.

They played.

They climbed.

I followed.

Until it was time to go. Back to the dock. Past the big boats and yachts. Past the launch where they threw stones. Up and around the railroad tracks. Down the long sidewalk. And across the crosswalk to our vehicle.

It was a good day, yes. A good summer bucket list adventure.

Ice cream party and a park.

Total Cost: $8.50

Mom Lesson: I’m a much happier mom when we get out of the house. 

Kid Lesson: Kids need nature.

 

 

This post is part of a summer-long series titled Summer Bucket List. This is my first summer home full-time with our three children. My hope for this series is that it will challenge me to adventure out of my mothering comfort zone, will provide opportunities to live and write simply, practically, beautifully and meaningfully, and will stimulate some some fun ideas for your summer as well! To check out the entire series, click here and you’ll be directed to the introductory post where all the posts are listed and linked for easy reading. Enjoy, friends! And have a blessed summer.

It’s hard to believe the kids’ last day of school was two weeks ago already!

12 1/2 years into mothering, and this is my first summer home full-time with our kids. Six months ago, I prayerfully and intentionally decided to step away from my work as a speech-language pathologist to focus on writing, explore special needs photography and stay at home with our three children.

After six months of staying home full-time, there are a couple things I know for sure. I take life seriously. I take this season of life particularly seriously. I have no intention of sitting around eating bon bons bringing in zero income while my husband works his butt off providing 100% of income for our family. I want to follow God’s call and write like never before. I want to explore and nurture my lifelong passion for photography. And I want to grab ahold of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to stay home full-time and embrace my days with our children while they’re still young. But I have to be honest, I’m NOT a natural at this full-time stay at home mom gig. Because I take life so seriously and I’m such a worker bee, I need to be really intentional about finding creative ways to relax, enjoy, explore, adventure, and nurture my playful side with our children.

I don’t want to be the mom who was always stressed.

I don’t want to be the mom who always worked.

I don’t want to be the mom who didn’t know how to chill.

I don’t want to be the mom who ignored her heart and soul.

I don’t want to be the mom who never did anything fun or adventurous.

I want to be a mom who’s intentional, insightful, thoughtful, loving, present and willing to step out of the box for the sake of a purpose-driven life.

And yes, I want my kids to know that they can learn anywhere, that they can do lots of fun things without a ton of money, that they can choose to love and embrace life despite any circumstance they may face.

With all of that in mind, I knew I needed a plan for this summer, my first summer at home full-time with the kids.

I needed a loose plan to make summer successful for all of us. A loose plan for me. And a loose plan for the kids. Something to guide our way.

I also knew that historically, summer has been particularly challenging in the way of writing. I knew I needed time to relax, to restore my soul, to nurture my love for words and creative expression through writing. I knew I needed a unique combination of freedom plus structure to ensure a successful and personally fulfilling summer of writing and living.

So when my daughter found a piece of scrapbook paper labeled “Summer Bucket List” at the craft store six weeks ago, I knew that was it.

A summer bucket list?! Perfect.

We bought that piece of scrapbook paper.

We bought a bucket. (Okay, it’s not much of a bucket at all, but I needed to kick off summer with a little bit of beauty!)

We changed Baseball Game to Canterbury Park because we already do baseball way too many nights and haven’t ever been to a horse race.

We changed Rollerblading to Park and Canoeing to Zoo because….well…to be honest, I don’t really want to go rollerblading or canoeing with three kids. Can’t a mom have a say in this, too?!

We changed Pool Party to Farmers Market because I don’t have easy access to a pool. But hmmm….I forgot about our kiddie pool. We might do that pool party after all!

We resolved to do all the other activities as listed on the pre-printed Summer Bucket List.

And we waited for summer to come.

So here we are. Nearly two weeks into summer and we’re just getting started, but better late than never, right?

There are 22 activities on our Summer Bucket List. My daughter made little pieces of paper listing each special activity we’re hoping to do this summer. Most of the activities cost very little, but a few will cost more. And all of them will require some level of creativity, an adventuresome spirit, and a willingness to step out of the box.

This is a summer-long series. As we progress through our Summer Bucket List activities, I’ll share our adventures in blog posts so you can join in the fun!

If you’ve been around this blog for any length of time, you know I never, ever intended for this blog to be fun and filled with newsy updates from our family. While this will likely be the most casual, fun, friendly, simple and light-hearted series I’ve ever written, I also want to ensure it’s beautiful, meaningful, purpose-filled and inspiring. The tone of many of these posts, in fact, may end up being simple, beautiful and real. But there’s bound to be a lot of fun in there, too.

So let’s get to it.

Let’s get started with our Summer Bucket List!

This post will serve as the landing page for Summer Bucket List. All posts in the series will be listed and linked right here at the end of this post. I put the Summer Bucket List graphic in the right sidebar of my blog’s home page. Anytime you want to read a post from the series, go to the blog at amybethpederson.com, click on the Summer Bucket List graphic, and you’ll be directed to this post. So glad you’ve decided to join the journey. I hope we’ll have fun, relax and connect along the way. Enjoy, friends.

Ice Cream Party and a Park

The Zoo

Road Trip & Hiking

Pizza Party (and Another Park)

Family Bike Ride

Swimming & Sandcastles

Mall of America!

Berry Picking

 

 

It’s summer. Day one.

Hubs last words before heading out to work this morning were “have a great vacation!”

Hmmm…vacation.

Our oldest was offered a ride to his first day of basketball, then a ride to his first day of junior golf league.

The girls and I headed out for a morning of activities. First, the gym. Let’s be real. The gym membership hasn’t worked for me for the past two summers. I barely went at all, and by the end of both summers, I told myself I’d never do that again, that I’d put my membership on hold for summer because it was a complete waste of money. But this summer, I decided I’d add our oldest daughter and give that a whirl. She’s way too old for the child care center, but exercise is one of my lifelines. I need to workout for my sanity. So today was day one at the gym. The oldest already mentioned a bit of boredom, but we’re going as long as she can stand it. Or mama’s gunna be a crabby vacationer. After the gym, we hit the post office, which was followed by a quick lunch at Taco Bell, which was followed by a stop at the pediatrician’s office to drop off health forms that need to be signed for my daughter’s upcoming church camp. Next was a call to the music store to verify that her trumpet, stand and lesson book would be delivered to school in time for tomorrow’s first band lesson. They weren’t sure. They looked it up and nothing was showing up in the system. Daughter tells me the mass delivery was already made last Thursday, that all of her friends already have their horns. I’m not sure whether to believe her or the representative I talked to at the store mid-last week. We shall wait for the return call to confirm either way. We drove to Target. I didn’t want to make another stop, but truth is, we had enough toilet paper for two more trips to the bathroom, so that Target stop was a do or die. And yeah, we picked up some bug spray for “natural protection” at camp. After all that, we drove home and dear daughter literally jumped out of the car to go visit neighbor friends the second we pulled in the driveway.

The three year old fell asleep on the way home. I’d promised her a regular pre-nap episode of Sofia the First, but since she’d fallen asleep, my goal was to get her in the house as quietly as possible and straight upstairs for nap. She hadn’t used the bathroom in three hours, so I had to wake her enough for a fight to go “potty” on the toilet before nap time.

Oldest daughter was gone visiting friends.

Son was still gone at golf.

The three year old was “napping.”

So I broke out my computer to start a blog post. I knew I didn’t have much time at all. An hour of quiet at best.

Then she came down. “I want some oranges. Can you get me some oranges? I want lemonade.” “We already ate,” I said! “Remember we ate at Taco Bell?” So much for the argument. She kept asking. I couldn’t deny oranges. And I wanted to ensure a full tummy for sleep. So she won. I broke out an orange and asked her to sit down and eat it. “After you eat the orange, it’s time for nap,” I reminded her. “When you wake up from nap, you can play outside with friends!”

Back upstairs.

Back to “nap.”

Back downstairs to my laptop. Uploaded a few pictures, started a post I’ll no longer write. Heard the three year old walking around upstairs.

Back upstairs.

There she was. Up and about.

“I want some lemonade,” she exclaimed.

I put her back in bed and got her a glass of water.

She refused it. “I want lemonade!” she exclaimed.

“We’re not having lemonade now. We’re having water now. You can have lemonade after nap,” I responded calmly.

I left her on her bed, doubtful of a nap ever happening at this point.

Within a minute, our oldest daughter came in the door with her neighbor friend. They needed my help with their box house outside. I pressed save on my blog post. I’d only uploaded three pictures at that point. Not even close to approximating the dream or vision I had for that post. I helped them in their play box, closed the cardboard door, and reminded them to open the “windows” and not stay in it too long. “It’s hot today, and I want to make sure you don’t overheat.”

Back inside.

Back to the computer for a minute. Maybe less. I don’t think I got anywhere on that post.

Girls came back inside, went upstairs, then came back downstairs. “Guess what?” said dear daughter. “What?” I said. “Maisie’s awake upstairs! She’s playing in her room,” exclaimed my oldest daughter. She and her friend giggled. Apparently, they thought it was cool, funny. They asked WHY she wasn’t sleeping. “She knows there’s a whole lotta fun stuff going on around here today, I guess.”

The girls went back upstairs and began entertaining the three year old. They’re up there still. Talking and playing. Doors shutting and opening again. “Come on sweets, come on Maisie.” I imagine they’re going to do her hair now. I’ll go check in just a few.

I surrender the beautiful blog post I was writing. Not going to happen today. I surrender the thoughts of all the blog titles and posts I’ve been drafting and dreaming up in my head the last week of school and moving into this first week of summer. Posts on friendship and community, fighting for our God-sized dreams, our identities when all the external stuff is stripped away, a commemorative post marking my niece’s 5th birthday and all the trauma that led up to her birth, a post where I ask you what God’s working out in your life right now. I think about the writing group I’ll have to miss (again) this week, for the 3rd time in a row, because the hubs has work activities and I have an out-of-town baseball game for our son. I think about this season, how it seems I’m supposed to be here, surrendering the dreams, surrendering the visions I have for myself, for the NOW, the here and NOW. For the kids while they’re little. While they’re here. While they’re still playing and dressing up and going to golf and basketball and trumpet lessons and singing Sofia the First cartoon songs. While they still want me to come with them to the park.

I feel guilty for dreaming something for myself. It’s a tearing of myself in two.

I surrender the beautiful blog post for a simple one I can type as fast as my fingers will write in the in-between kid moments.

They’re downstairs now. The three year old came down in the blue “bow dress” my older daughter wore to her dance recital in preschool. The “baby” is nearly that same age now. The bow dress fits perfectly and is her favorite. “It’s time for memories,” the older girls prompted her as she came downstairs to show me her loveliness. “It sure is,” I said as I gave her a big hug.

They’re here now. In the room next to me, trying to determine what to do next. It’s loud in here. They’re playing kazoo. My fingers are flying, determined to get anything out on this page.

It’s a balancing act.

And I’m not perfect at it at all.

This isn’t vacation. This is a season.

A season of surrender. To what is. To the now. To living for today. To enjoying and finding peace where God has me.

Yes, they are small. This is their vacation. My words will wait. A different kind of beauty is waiting. She’s tapping me now. “Can I go outside with the girls?” Then, “Guys, guys let’s go outside. Come!”

 

It’s a great honor to introduce you to Kathleen who’s sharing her unique journey through motherhood as part of our month-long guest post series, Special Mamas. Kathleen is a wife and mama of two sweet girls. Her oldest daughter, Teagan, received an incredibly rare genetic diagnosis of Trisomy 12p just before her first birthday. Teagan’s diagnosis has been incredibly life changing and has made life incredibly challenging. Kathleen loves her daughter fiercely and will fight to the ends of the earth advocating on her behalf, but this journey has also caused Kathleen to question her faith like never before. Friends, this post is ridiculously moving. I cried the first time I read it, and continue to be deeply moved with every subsequent read. When Kathleen submitted her post, she offered to tone down the anger and uncertainty given the spirit of my blog. I reassured her, “This is so good. So beautiful. I don’t even have words. It’s okay to question. It’s okay.” You must read Kathleen’s story. You simply must. This post embodies everything I ever envisioned this series to be. Thank you, Kathleen. 

My daughter was six months old when we first suspected something was wrong. It started innocently enough – our daycare provider mentioned that Teagan ought to be sitting up by now. We knew she had low muscle tone, but every doctor we’d spoken with had either brushed it off or attributed it to her difficult birth (her lungs were blocked and she didn’t get air for a few minutes). We figured it stemmed from that, and made an appointment with a physical therapist. Not incredibly worried.

As the months passed since that first appointment, the developmental delays began to pile up. My husband kept a positive outlook, our parents kept a positive outlook, and our friends would say things like “But she’ll be fine, right?” Call it mother’s intuition – I knew bad news was coming.

We began an onslaught of appointments to try and figure out what this elusive issue was. We visited neurologists, therapists, and early childhood specialists; we ran MRIs, EEGs and every test under the sun.

And we prayed constantly. I had a strong Catholic upbringing, and God was whom I had turned to with every hope, every fear, every gratitude for as long as I can remember. I prayed it was something we could overcome. Prayed it was something that would still allow her to have a normal life. Prayed that God would NOT let something be wrong with my perfect, sweet, lovely baby girl.

It was our second neurologist who suggested we do genetic testing. I will never forget that phone call, just before Teagan turned one, with the diagnosis: Trisomy 12p, the mosaic version. A portion of Teagan’s cells had extra material on the P arm of the 12th chromosome. That teeny tiny, itty bitty blip of material was causing – and would continue to cause – enormous problems. Our diagnosis was incredibly rare. Incredibly life changing. Incredibly limiting.

The days after the diagnosis were a blur of tears, snuggles, confusion and anger. Tears because I couldn’t believe I was being told that this wonderful little being in my arms had something “wrong” with her. Snuggles because I loved her so much and wasn’t going to let her down. Confusion because no one would give me a straight answer…will she be able to walk? We don’t know. Will she go to normal school? We don’t know. Will she have a good quality of life? We’ll have to wait and see. And anger because I didn’t understand how this could have happened. I thought God was watching out for me! I’m not perfect, but I’m a good person…and forget about me, what about HER?! She is 100% innocent! I was furious. And there was no one to be mad at. Except God.

I would head to work in the morning and scream at God for the entire drive. I would feel better during the day; when I was at work I actually knew what to do with myself. I would spend my evenings and days off with my sweet baby and decide the doctors and therapists were nuts, because my daughter was PERFECT, and they had to be mistaken.

My husband would research, which often times made us feel more confused and alone. The most complete study we found on Trisomy 12p was thirty years old, and listed forty confirmed cases. Forty. Of all the people in the world now, and of all the people who have ever been…forty.

And together, the three of us would progress. To the next doctor’s appointment. To the next brain scan. To the next therapy session. To the next developmental milestone. They came late. They came slowly. But when they did come, we would rejoice. This is still the way we operate today.

Needless to say, parenting has not been what I had expected. I didn’t expect to be a special mama. I didn’t expect to forego music and dance classes in lieu of physical therapy and speech sessions. I didn’t expect I would purposely use sign language in public so it was clear to everyone that something is different. I didn’t expect my daughter would ask me to sing Row Row twenty times a day because it is one of the few things she can communicate and it makes her feel connected. I didn’t expect to worry she would spend her school years eating lunch by herself. I didn’t expect to fear that someday she’ll live in a home and no one will come to visit her on Christmas. I didn’t expect to find it so hard to talk to my children about God. I didn’t expect I could be in a room full of friends and laughing children and feel completely alone.

I also didn’t expect to find out so much about myself. That I would be able to work so hard and love so fiercely. That I would become a unique kind of leader. That I would know when to fight for my daughter. That I would develop a level of compassion deeper than I knew possible. And I didn’t expect that the hardest worker I’ve ever known would be my own tiny child. It took five months to teach Teagan to roll over, something most babies don’t have to be taught. But she did it. It took three different physical therapists and inserts in her shoes to teach Teagan to walk. But she did it. She signs. She is working on talking. She is smart and stubborn and wonderful. And she loves. Oh how she loves, with her huge smiles and gentle touches, her sweet kisses and full body hugs.

There is a lot of confusion in my life, which you’ve probably gathered by now (warning: here is the part where I sound like a self-righteous brat). I feel incredibly lucky to have the determined, loving man I chose to partner with for life. And I know that were the bonds with some of my family members and friends not as strong as they are, I would feel more alone and less supported than I do. But I don’t give God credit for that. I did that. I feel very much self reliant. Maybe someday I’ll look back and see his hand in these “blessings” – but not yet. I’m still pissed.

I can go from hating God, to begging him for help, to deciding I don’t believe in him, to thanking him for my daughters, in the span of about five minutes. If I will ever believe the way I used to remains to be seen. I’m working on it.

The mantra I repeat to myself for my own broken faith, and for my role as a special mama, is a quote from Rudyard Kipling:

“God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers.”

Well. I don’t know if it’s true. It doesn’t give any clarity as to why God would allow my daughter to have such a challenging life. But it does sum up how I feel about my duties as Teagan’s mom, now and as she grows older.

To protect her from harm.

To fight for her and the rights she deserves.

To be proactive about anything that will help her progress.

To push her to try harder.

To teach her to be an advocate for herself.

To let her know there is always someone behind her.

To make her possibilities limitless.

To create an environment where she feels completely surrounded in love.

I don’t know if this feeling came from God. My faith is completely broken, and at this moment, I can’t say whether or not I believe in him. But I’m not going to stop praying…hopefully that counts for something. And I’m not going to stop working, relentlessly, with my sweet little girl.

Kathleen

Kathleen is an Iowa transplant with a passion for wine, the Cyclones, Harry Potter, and most of all, her family. She lives in the Twin Cities suburbs where she enjoys getting outside with her husband and two daughters as often as possible, the way good Minnesotans do. She began blogging shortly after her oldest daughter’s rare genetic disability diagnosis in 2012 as a way to cope with a roller coaster of emotions and share her family’s story. You can read more about the Trisomy 12p diagnosis on her blog at rockinglion.wordpress.com.

 

This post is part of a month-long guest post series titled Special Mamas. The series runs all May and is in honor of moms who have unique journeys to and through motherhood. To read all 13 posts in the Special Mamas series, CLICK HERE and you’ll be directed to the introductory post. At the bottom of the post, you’ll find all guest posts listed and linked for easy reading!