Erin pike

I am a mother, a wife, a woman that loves to observe and articulate life. I am not a painter, but I feel as if I’m holding a paintbrush when I’m pondering the details of grief and joy and small sacred things we experience as humans everyday.

I am a reforming people-pleaser. I love Jesus. I love my therapist. I love talking but I do not thrive in small talk. I get more excited looking at the mow lines in my lawn than the carpet lines in my house. I’m a pretty textbook middle kid, Type B person at all times.

I am a feeler married to a logic-er and raising our combination kids. We have a 26 year old bonus baby, a 10 year old, a 1 year old, and a little one on the way. So our daily parenting conversations range from the frustrations of learning adulthood, detailed reports of Pokemon characters, new words or bruises obtained that day, and who is sleeping in the hospital when.

My husband has traveled for work for a good portion of our marriage providing endlessly and earning us a rather nontypical home dynamic. We live on a small hobby farm, we love listening to the frogs and the crickets, and we love figuring out life together. We are building a life. We are imagining our kitchen table in 30 years and working toward that picture.

And at the end of each day I am just a woman trying to do my best. I want to live whole and fully with all the nuances and quirks I was created with. Stringing words together is a favorite hobby both for identifying what I feel within myself but also for the safety and known-ness someone else can feel finding themselves within those words. Sometimes busyness and sometimes insecurities and sometimes just a bit of lostness can impact whether I choose to see and articulate the life around me. But my hope for myself, is to keep choosing and keep writing and keep finding the language for life.