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today
This had been a busy little day. For a random Tuesday. (Actually, I believe it is officially Wednesday morning when I am writing this – but what difference does that make?) I took the chaps to a local library to watch a Christmas “play” about Holly and Bah Hum Bug. By Porkchop Productions. I’ve probably said enough already. Actually, it was all good. The trip to the library enabled me to pick out a few new books on CD (The Kite Rider (not to be confused with The Kite Runner) and Little Men) for car listening on the many December road trips (Ohio, Florida and all the states between here…
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Little Me
I recently unearthed a leatherish looking white box from under the recesses of our bed. I recognized it immediately. It was my mom’s jewelry box. A coffee ring staining the lid. Soft red lining inside. And I could tell from my kids’ reactions that they were eyeing that treasure chest the exact same way I always eyed it as a kid – like some sort of miracle box o’ wonders. So we spent a morning going through its contents. The golden crab pendant from Mom’s high school – Hampton Crabs. (Yeah, crabs.) The long strings of pearls. The gaudy brooches that must have belonged to another era – I think…
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Home
There are just so many little things that make home home. You know? And those things are probably a little different in each house. You know when you have been away from home for a while – for a business trip or a vacation or a holiday or even just a long weekend? And then you come home and you take a shower in your own bathroom with your own normal-sized shampoo and soap? That’s the feeling I’m talking about. I love that feeling. I love that part of home. The comfortable, familiar aspects of our literal house. The parts of our house that make this place a home .…
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Never Heard That One
London was asking to play games today. I told her she should play some group games with her siblings – like Ring Around the Rosy or Duck Duck Goose. And she said, “We can’t play Duck Duck Goose. There aren’t enough of us.”Not enough Keigley kids? Now, that’s one I’ve never heard before!
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Forgotten
I watched a couple of old videos I found on our computer recently. In one of them, Bergen was talking and he was stuttering. Badly. “Do you remember Bergen stuttering a lot?” I asked my husband. Kevin looked surprised at my memory loss and as we talked I suddenly remembered more clearly. Yes, Bergen did have a serious stuttering problem when he was smaller. As in, relatives could not understand what he was saying. We often struggled to understand what he was saying. We tried to encourage him to slow down in his speech, to breathe before speaking, to pause and gather his thoughts. And then I remembered how I…
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okay
I was nursing Wilder. Bergen was hovering around. So far, perfectly normal. “Man,” Bergen says, “I sure wish I could try some of that milk.” You already did, son. You already did.
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Goodnight Little Willow
After tucking Piper Finn in tonight and watching her nightly rituals for about the 400th time (a pretty close estimate I think) I began to wonder if obsessive compulsive behavior was normal in two year olds. I feel confident that it is. The evening line up seldom varies. I spread the blanket over her (the same soft, sweater-like, pale green blanket Uncle Luke and Aunt Jessica bought for her as an infant) and she tucks it just so – never allowing even a slight edge to hang over the bed rail. Eagle (her constant companion since Aunt Beckey picked it up for her at the Marine Corp. Museum when Finn…
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Is This A Test?
We try to learn a few verses together as a family. I write them on the chalkboard wall near the dinner table and we read them out loud together before each meal. This week I wrote out James 1:19-20 – “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.” And let’s just be honest. When I picked this little nugget of a verse I was targeting a handful of sometimes short tempered, angry-word-shouting siblings. I was trying to preach when I should have been quiet. And so maybe this day just serves…
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This Is Not Good
Look what happenswhen I answer the phoneand have the audacityto walk into another roomto finish my conversation.
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Close Enough
Last week we visited our new favorite field trip place again – Pisgah National Forest and the Pisgah Wildlife Center. The kids attended a class about opossums. Apparently, Bergen was paying attention. Today I asked him to return some math toys to their proper basket. After he had completed his chore, he said, “Okay Mom – I have returned them to their native habitat.”
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She Will Surprise You
Oh. This One. Sometimes she is such a mystery. Last week at the entrance to my least favorite store a lady representing the Salvation Army was ringing her little holiday bell. I gave all of the kids whatever change I had and they all trotted off to dump their coins in the red kettle. Much later, inside the store, I heard loose change hit the floor near my feet. And there was Mosely, scrambling after it. I knew right away where that little kid had gotten her quarter. Instead of dropping her money into the kettle, Mosely had dropped her quarter into her pocket. (Yes, I made her go back…
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11:00 a.m.
The alarm on my watch beeps every day at 11:00 a.m. When Kevin was in Israel we both sat our alarms to the same hour so we could remember to pray for one another and our family at the same exact time, despite the physical distance between us. Once Kevin returned, I just left the alarm setting as it was. (Not just because I don’t know how to change it either.) It has been a good daily reminder to pray for my husband. In the past when I have prayed for my husband, or any loved one in my life really, my prayers were pretty selfish. Yes, I would pray…
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My Blue Eyed Boy
Do you know what song I have been in love with lately? “Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall”. By Bob Dylan. Performed by Jason Mraz. And I listened to it this morning as I took my bi-monthly run. (Or maybe I should call it my bi-monthly shuffle-my-feet-only-slightly-speedier-than-I-walk.) I like the line about my blue-eyed son and my darling young one. Which made me think about my little Wilde Fox of a son, conquering milestones left and right. Eating too many new foods to count – like peas and sweet potatoes and pears. And not turning up his tiny pert nose at any of them. Responding to our voices and our expressions and…
