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Read This
Read this …… it’s better than anything I could put up here anyway. All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.I never had a selfless thought since I was born.I am mercenary and self-serving through and through;I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn. Peace, reassurance, pleasure are the goals I seek,I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin;I talk of love – a scholar’s parrot may talk Greek –But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin. – C.S. Lewis
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The Peacemaker
It is both curious and humbling to watch your children develop traits and characteristics on their own. London Eli is growing into quite the Peacemaker or Conflict-Avoider. She seems to be always keeping her eyes open for opportunities to smooth over situations between her siblings before conflicts get out of hand. At a recent lunch at the lodge, after Bergen finishes his allotted one cup of juice, London quickly observes his sadness and near emotional breakdown as he asks for more juice and gets a parental refusal. Before he hits the floor, London says, “Hey Berg, I have some juice left. Would you like to finish mine?” Conflict avoided. On…
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What’s That?
After church Sunday I had to stop at the grocery store and I knew every little person in the car was hungry and that by the time we got home it would be later than our normal lunch time. No one likes that – right? And I didn’t feel like creating some great meal nor did I want to drive through a fast food place. (Maybe I’ll blog about my relationship with McDonald’s later.) The point here is …… I walked by the frozen pizza aisle and thought, “Yeah, that would work” and I bought a frozen pizza. It did feel like an out-of-the-ordinary purchase for me but I didn’t…
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Happy Birthday Bergen
Bergen turned four this weekend. Celebrating with Bergen Hawkeye . . . . – When you tell him “happy birthday” he responds by saying, “Happy Birthday!” – Kevin made him his own special Wolverine claws. Quite an undertaking, but well-appreciated. – After his birthday party, Bergen would thank his guests by shouting “THANK YOU FOR COMING” through a mouthful of cake. – Bergen received the coolest remote control car that keeps running, even when it hits a wall. Not only was it his first remote control, it was the first gift he ever requested after seeing it on a “cah-mur-shuh-mull”. [commercial] Ah, advertising. – Berg’s cake was the coolest Batman-inspired…
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This is My Day
Everyone was playing happily outside. It was so nice and quiet inside. I should have known better. After all these years and all these kids . . . . I should have known better.
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Poop and Potential
Every morning it is my privilege to enter little Willow’s room to give her a good morning kiss and hug and to see her sleepy, sweet eyes light up when I enter the room. And nearly every morning the same smell and the same words greet me as I enter her domain. “Poo Poo,” she declares, pointing to her itsy bum. And the smell pervading the room affirms her assertion. For some reason this morning, I was talking Baby Smack to her as I changed her diaper for the eleventy-billionth time. Now, Baby Smack by its very nature does not need to make sense, and so it frequently does not.…
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Weeping May Occur
I wrote this when Mosely was but a younger lass, moving from her beloved crib to her big girl bed. When reading the Bible I often find certain verses that I think apply directly to my own children. Sometimes I chuckle to myself at the verse’s real intention and the intent I jokingly like to apply to it. “Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge but whoever hates discipline is stupid.” Sometimes I highlight the verse. Sometimes I get out a handy note card and print the verse and stick it to the fridge for all to enjoy and ponder. Recently I read a verse that I think maybe I should scrawl…
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Never Say Never
I always told my English students to avoid using cliches in their writing. I accused cliches of sounding predictable and boring. I encouraged my young aspiring writers to strive for fresh words and intelligence in their writing styles. Don’t misunderstand me here – I thoroughly believe that avoiding cliches in writing is still good advice. And working to find new ways to say old ideas is still worthy of the challenge it requires. But I guess it’s also true that cliches are cliches for a reason. (I also instructed my students to never start sentences with “and” but some grammar rules are acceptable to bend in certain situations.) A cliche…
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I Don’t Understand
Why does this look like so much fun but imagining fifteen-year-old Riley behind the wheel seem so terrifying? (Okay, so I know the reasons why…….but isn’t it a little alarming how few blinks it takes to get from one stage to the next?)
Keep Reading . . .
Should I Stop Homeschooling?
five finds friday
five finds friday (silly and sweet)
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Are You Happy?
I wrote this piece when London was a toddler. Enjoy. “Are you happy, Mommy?” It’s a question my two and a half year old daughter asks repeatedly throughout the day. I’m not sure where she first heard it or why it has stuck in her mind so. Who can explain the vast intricacies of the toddler mind? Who would even try? Even though I hear the question a multitude of times in any given day, it still makes me think with each utterance. “Are you happy, Mommy?” Well, the house smells like spilled milk and dirty diapers from you and your two younger siblings. But I guess I’m okay. There…
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Little Creases
The little creases on Piper Finn’s body are one of my favorite things about that kid. You know the creases I am talking about. The one at the wrist. The one at her elbow. The itiest creases surrounding each knuckle on her teeny hands. The crease where her ankle connects to her foot. Her neck creases. I love those little parts.
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It’s Official – I Am A Parent
This is an older piece from the early days ………… When was it that I officially became a parent? Was it when I adopted my first daughter? Was it when I gave birth to my second daughter? Or was it when I licked my finger and rubbed smeared banana off my then seven-year-old daughter’s chin? What about the time I used my pinky finger to dislodge a booger dangling from my infant daughter’s nostril? Did parenthood claim me that Saturday morning I found myself in the dressing room at a department store, sitting on the bench as the official coat hanger, taking the clothes off the hangers and re-hanging them…
