-
Outdoor Hour Challenge. VIII.
Man, I don’t know why I decided to title each of these Outdoor Hour Challenge posts with Roman Numerals. My skills are pretty weak once you pass the Roman Numeral V. My little band and I reached Challenge Numero Ten. (Yikes – I must be typing late at night because I am just hopping from Roman Numerals to Spanish and…
-
the steady.
This weekend Kevin and the kids worked on creating a compost pile. And I worked nearby re-painting an old pair of homemade shutters. My mother crafted them decades ago. (How can I be so old that I can accurately use the word “decades” to describe my own life?) And for some reason those two things made me miss our moms.…
-
the early stages of a TLC television program
There must be something about the style of parenting that Kevin and I employ at this house. I don’t know exactly where to point the finger. But it appears that with our last two children, we are creating hoarders. Finn has spent four years obsessed with carrying things. Piles of things. Little things. Soft things. Unimportant things. Stashed in homemade…
-
it takes a little convincing
Our church has recently begun an event for women called Refresh. It was held a few weeks ago. I had to be convinced to attend the meeting. Not really because I didn’t want to go. That wasn’t it. I’d had it on my calendar for the last three months. I did want to go. However. The day hadn’t gone as…
-
An Open Letter to Disney Writers
Dear Disney Teen and Tween Show Writers, Stupidity isn’t cute. Creating characters who pretend to be morons to attract the opposite sex is degrading. Being ignorant is not funny. Laugh tracks are unbearable. A television show should not make me feel as if I am losing brain cells whilst merely walking through a room during an episode of said TV…
-
Outdoor Hour Challenge. VII.
We’re about to wrap up our “getting started” segment of our Outdoor Hour Challenge. (We are on Number 9 of the 10 steps to getting started!) And that really makes me happy! It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed the first ten steps to get us started. I have. It’s just that I subscribe to the newsletters for the website and…
-
Love
Love. It just isn’t the one big thing. That giant gift with the fat price tag doesn’t earn you a free pass. I can’t buy my children a really cool game for the Wii one Saturday night and then not speak to them all week. And when they wonder where dinner is on Tuesday evening I just point to the…
-
Craft Projects? Go!
I didn’t wait long. I just couldn’t. After I conquered the stars, I just had to jump right in. I grabbed a favorite quote from my pinterest board labeled “words on the walls” and gathered what supplies I had on hand. (By the way, why aren’t the pinterest boards in alphabetical order? Wouldn’t that make more sense?) Anyway. I gathered…
-
the stars.
The stars were holding me back. No, that’s not some artsy poetic beginning to a deep blog post. The stars were literally delaying my progress. A basket of assorted stars. Probably twenty of them. Maybe more. Small. Medium. Blue. Red. Rustic. Metal. Tin. Sitting on the red bench in our hall since the day we moved in. I’d been telling…
-
and I hope it’s always true . . .
I wore this headband this weekend. My six-year-old son made it for me a few weeks ago when I was sick. It’s crafted from a waistband of a pair of bear-print pajama pants that he outgrew. And I didn’t stay home all day. I actually left the house. Ran errands. And it was both an easy decision and a hard…
-
Outdoor Hour Challenge. VI.
This week, it was cold. And a few things delayed the prompt beginning of our walk for our weekly Outdoor Hour Challenge. (A filthy wretched poop in a swimmie. Not because we’d been swimming, but because Fox saw the swimmie had Nemo on it and asked to wear it. And I was thinking no farther ahead than that moment so…
-
Wilde Words.
Maybe it’s because he’s my baby. Or maybe it’s because he’s legitimately adorable. (That’s the one I’m going with.) But lately it seems that Otto has become the golden child at our house or something. There isn’t a human being residing under this green-shingled roof that is not completely in love with the two-year-old who stomps up the steps in…
-
pointing at myself.
I have sixty-eight drafts resting in the unknown regions of my blog’s set-up pages. There are so many ideas I want to write about, explore and share but sometimes I just type out the words but never press “publish”. I am finding it more and more difficult every day to balance the type of mother to a teenage daughter that…
