Before you read this, I want to be clear about one thing: I am not advocating that parents put their kids in bad situations, and I am not saying that we shouldn’t comfort our children when they are scared. What I am saying is that what you are about to read has been an unfolding story in my home. It is the story of breaking fear. … It started with a small voice. “I’m scared of the dark,” he said….
The leaves are slowly falling, slowly changing, and I’m realizing that this autumn season makes me think that other things will change, that autumn is the best metaphor and I want to see all the pretty colors cover my world like a postcard. But life is not a postcard. –this is profound, I know. … Can the changing not be left to leaves and temperature, but used for life itself? –Life doesn’t follow nature’s seasons. Still, if I’m thinking about my life…
I know this is just a piece of torn notebook paper. I know the tape is rough and the leaves will turn. But my boy made this. After breakfast, I had -lovingly- shoved my noisy kids outside. They were too harsh for the walls of our home so I sent them where there are no walls.– Where they can run and jump and raise their voices. Where birds chirp quietly and bugs crawl under our feet. Where wild things live unseen….
“What about Susan Joan?” he suggested. My face crumpled. “I don’t love either of those names.” “Susan means graceful lily,” he said. “Joan means God is gracious.” The names have further significance. Both of them are aunts that have played vital roles in my husband’s life, people who continuously shower others with bursting love and creativity. They brighten everything around them. Still, to me, the name sounded harsh. Susan Joan. Not like the beautiful names that sat on my own…
I went to Costco today. Yes, I know. It’s four days before Christmas, so I might be insane. I almost turned around after it took me ten minutes to get into the parking lot, but we needed groceries and we needed supplies for the Christmas weekend and today was just the day our life fit with errands. Costco wasn’t actually as packed as the parking lot had led me to believe. There is a 5 Below, a TJ Maxx, a PetCo, and a…
The scene is familiar: It’s dark. I am in bed, but not asleep yet. Instead, I am thinking, reliving my day and predicting my tomorrow. At bedtime, I prayed sweet dreams for my little ones, dreams of candies and princesses and strong warriors defeating dragons. I prayed peace over my children and my household. Still, when trying to put myself to bed, I lie awake thinking about events, feeling as though I should have a plan for the days to…
I don’t know about you, but I struggle at home. Whether it’s a little girl who just loves to pee on the floor or a red-headed genius six-year-old who is never satisfied or a middle child who laughs at all the rules (especially the rules of gravity), my head is spinning by sunrise every day. By nap time, I am done and everyone ends up crying themselves to sleep. It’s really fun. In her post titled, “The Scientific Reason Moms Hate Screaming,”…
When he fell from his chair, blood poured. Apparently, his nose met the table as he fell. It was just a bloody nose, but still shocking. Rest and paper towels stopped it, but a couple days later it bled again. And again. And again. It bled because my son is young and sometimes his finger finds its way into the nostril. It bled again because my son is playful and can’t keep himself from bouncing. It bled again because…
As I write, I know I’ve failed. In so many ways. Inconsistencies everywhere. Disappointments. Rolled eyes. Mine and theirs and probably yours. Yet hope remains at the core. Every day, hope that the next day will be better. Right now, the disappointments of this day grip and need refreshment. Right now it is nap time. It is mostly quiet. Mostly calm. I am sitting on my bed, legs covered. Leaves sway outside my windows, caught by sunlight and shadow. Waving….
Is it really possible? I mean, Christmas is a day. December 25. And days always begin and end without human help. But as humans, we so often act like we need to do all these things to make Christmas. We need gifts and trees and cookies and we need to drive around looking at lights and we need the happy music and the steaming cocoa. In my household, we have Christmas traditions. They’re pretty usual. We make forgotten cookies. We watch all…