I am driving our van toward my second Christmas concert of the day (third if you count this morning’s rehearsal), when I become aware that I don’t have Youngest Daughter on board. At the moment of realization, I am at the rink picking up Second Oldest from ice-skating junior’s, as I have just left piano …
Over and over again, a common theme is voiced to me about The Church. That it is a place of hypocrisy, a magnet for legalists, the anti-thesis of true godliness. And in ways I have to agree. There have been several church groups and particular people in the congregations I have attended that would certainly …
I think I just might need to start getting more creative with my overall life organizational skills as well as with my child-rearing methods, as my status updates are becoming increasingly redundant (a.k.a ‘kids fight, I scream, exhaustion sets in, sanity starts slipping…’) Here is part of what I wrote as my blog update last …
While leaving from church and talking about Operation Christmas Child as we made tracks for home, my youngest and next in line are chatting about what they will put in this year’s boxes (because apparently, they are going to do a zillion of em’). Youngest says, “But we won’t put in any BOMBS or toothpaste.” …
Who I am is enough. For now. And I say this first and foremost. The rest will follow as it may. I am under the table wiping up crumbs. While I clean, I talk to Husband, who is wiping counters. I talk about my troubles with Daughter Number One. She has been extraordinarily moody of …
It has been one of those days where I could just lay on the bed and cry about the gloominess of it all. I feel like Eeyore. I have misplaced an essential: my ability to feel the joy. And when that happens, one is left with two choices: recoil or embrace. Cry or laugh. So …
I have corralled my screaming child in the church bathroom. We are finishing up a weekend of family camp, and not only is camp done, but so am I. And then some. I now prepare for inevitable misery that is the stage we call “packing up and heading for home.” Everyone loves to see a …
I wake up before 6:00 a.m. to a child stealing my pillow and a husband snoring. Happy Mother’s Day, 2012. I crawl out of bed to ready for the day of festivities…birthday present openings and birthday breakfast for the ten-year old, phone calls, church, dinner out, visits with family, church again, lesson planning for tomorrow, …
Not long ago, a friend mailed me a letter that contained two sheets of paper. On one sheet, was an article titled The Meanest Mother in the World, and on the other was the letter writer’s note to me which can be summarized with this one sentence: “Nice to know that being ‘mean’ is not …
Sunday evening, and I am finally ready for the weekend to begin. To begin again, that is. How is it that we are able to completely press speed dial when it comes to Friday through Sunday, but the rest of the week is like waiting on hold with elevator music playing in the background? Sunday …
I am sitting in a meeting, and the presenters have begun to speak. The topic, one chosen for its pertinence to all in attendance, should be enough to captivate the audience and compel the listening group to lend an ear attentively. We are being financially paid, by the way, to pay attention. One quick glance …
Is there anyone out there who is truly normal? I mean this sincerely. ‘Cause if there is a human in the universe who fits this description, I want to know them. And while we’re talking about this subject, what is normal? I love talking to people. I love examining people. I often compare myself to …