Marybeth Hancher

Family Storyteller & Faith Writer

Photographer, Memory Keeper, & Hoarder of Pretty Papers and Fancy Journals. Professional Diaper Changer, Cat Cuddler, Kitchen Dancer, & House Rearranger. Chronic Black Clothing Wearer, Jesus-Follower, & Autism Spectrum Lover. Living the rural life, #Girlmommin’ two Silly Geese and loving [most] minutes of it.

There was once a time where playgrounds were off l

There was once a time where playgrounds were off limits for us. They were one of the fastest ways to take away our hope, and one of the easiest ways to bring me to tears. So the best option for all of us was to avoid them. Today, that all changed. 🙌.Instead of explaining it all in detail, I’ll just write out exactly what I said to Nadia this evening because if there was anything more important to add, it would have already been said:.“Nadia, I want to talk to you. I want you to know that I’m proud of you every day. No matter what you do, and no matter what you don’t do, I am proud of you and so happy to be your mama. Today I’m extra proud of what you did at the playground. You were brave, yes. Brave enough to swing alone and ride the zip line, and that was so much fun to watch. And you were also brave enough to admit that going down the slide was too scary for you right now, and that’s always, always ok. But what impressed me the most was how generous you were with your words. You said something kind and personal and complimentary to every person you saw. You even spoke to the dogs you saw and complimented them, too. I know you didn’t see their reactions like we could, so I’ll tell you that when you walked away, their smiles didn’t fade. You made people feel very seen and loved today, and above everything else you did, that is what I’m the most proud of because that is one of the the hardest things to do and also one of the most valuable. So thank you.” Bless this girl of mine and her little sis who is her own flavor of sweetness, too. ❤

Tashie Toe. 😍 Sometime in the past week, this l

Tashie Toe. 😍 Sometime in the past week, this little one has decided to do everything with her feet. I've seen her try to use a spoon to eat breakfast with her foot, itch her eye with her big toe, and later pick her nose with the same one. (Glad it wasn't the other way around...but I'd still prefer neither! 🤣) In the bath, she pops one foot above the water and declares with much enthusiasm, "A toe!" and it's the cutest stinking thing ever. And today, we were apparently playing peek-a-boo with those little feet, too. Good grief. 😅 But as I've watched this, all I can think about is Dwight Shrute using his foot to drink coffee. So in the words of Jim, "Ahh, thank you hands. Nothing else in the universe can do what you do." 😉

I'm gettin' mighty deep over here. 😉 Also, my r

I'm gettin' mighty deep over here. 😉 Also, my recent journal entries are the reason I begin each new book with a disclaimer for any wandering eyes: Read at your own risk. For real. You can't unsee this. 🤣.#mch_oneaday

A not-as-healthy version of me would have looked a

A not-as-healthy version of me would have looked at this photo years ago and sighed, never in a million years even considering posting it because, well, bad angle for someone with thighs and a booty like mine. 😉 It's about time we #normalizenormalbodies, please and thank you! Mentally, I'm nowhere near I was when I was completely submerged in the world of restricted eating and calling it "health" & feeling guilt if I missed ONE workout or had a "cheat meal" cause you know, I was too busy living. 🙄 But I'm also nowhere near where I want to be either. Mental health issues that stem from our views of food and the ways in which we were taught early on about how our bodies "should" look is messy business. Body dysmorphia is real and sad and hard to tackle, and hearing "What are you talking about? You look great!" has never helped. Neither has "You look so skinny!" after months of secret self-abuse, emotionally and physically. It only has ever confirmed my suspicions that yes, I must be thin to be beautiful. (NOTE: MY HUSBAND HAS NEVER EVER EVER MADE ME FEEL LIKE THIS IS TRUE. HE DOESNT DISMISS MY THOUGHTS BECAUSE HE KNOWS MY DYSMORPHIA IS REAL AND BELIEVES THAT HIM JUST TELLING ME I'M DELUSIONAL IS NOT HELPFUL AND IS QUITE DISRESPECTFUL TOWARDS MY FEELINGS. BUT HE ALSO DOESN'T AFFIRM THE FALSE BELIEF THAT WAS PLANTED IN ME BY NUMEROUS OTHERS THAT MY THINNER BODY IS SOMEHOW BETTER. GOD BLESS THAT MAN.) That being said-hopefully loud and clear cause ain't no way I'll allow anyone to think Dana is less than the saint he is- this middle ground between wishing to change my proportions and being full on anti-diet culture is tricky. I can easily swing both directions depending on my mood, depending on my outfit, depending on the day. And it sucks. But I'm learning more about myself in these in between moments than when I'm sitting on either end of the sidelines. Today, what I see is a beautiful photo of a mother and her daughters. She had just finished dinner at the picnic table with her family, and the girls hit up the hammock to lounge, tell funny stories, and rock together while the sun sank low. I'm thankful that this mother is me and that this is my actual life. ❤

Whew! I didn't intend to quit my daily poems, but

Whew! I didn't intend to quit my daily poems, but over the past couple weeks I completely lost any and all creativity and inspiration. The good news is, I've been a "creative" for long enough to not worry about this anymore. This in and out cycle is normal and expected, and I feel okay with it because I never fail to come back around the bend. One way I do this is by letting myself rest. I read a lot during this time and give myself permission to put away my own pen and maybe pick up something else instead (paints, cameras, etc.) This is pretty much the opposite of what we're taught as growing writers- You write, write, write. Every day, no matter what it says. But I'm a bit of a rebel and know that method doesn't work for me during this stage of the creative cycle; it just adds to the frustration I already feel when the words are there but just seem stuck in my head, jumbled and incoherent. So I only write down little tidbits that I find amongst the fluff knowing I can unscramble it later. "Helicopter seeds" and "ballet" were written in my journal a couple weeks ago, and today I felt the first signs of my brain unclogging. 😉 So I went straight to my computer and typewriter and wrote this. I'm hoping to play around more in the days to come with some of the chunks and single words I felt compelled to scribble in my notebook within the past week or two. ❤ Anyone else know what I'm talking about? And just out of curiosity, how do you get through the uninspired rut? 👇

I didn't post a Father's Day greeting yesterday be

I didn't post a Father's Day greeting yesterday because I have more to write than my brain is capable of right now. But I got to talk to my own Daddy on the phone and spent the rest of the day with my baby daddy. 🤣 Mine is a #girldad, too, and like Dana, he would do anything for his girls. No matter how old we get. I'm unfathomably grateful for each of them. ❤.My gift to Dana is not forcing him to be in a picture. (You're welcome.) So instead, I'll show you what Dad Days look like around here- fairy ballerinas and boy dresses and not a single one of us wishing to change a thing. (But only because he's never been forced to *actually* wear the ball gowns Nadia draws on him. 😉).Happy Father's Day, dads out there. You're worth celebrating the day of, a day late, and always.

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