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parenting at the end of a school year. bless us all.
It’s that time of year when, if you have children or are involved in education in any form from any angle, every bit of your life feels like a train running off its tracks, a snowball on its snowy descent down the steepest hill in town, a monkey spinning plates on a tilt-a-whirl. You get the idea. When’s the last…
Keep Reading . . .
Wile E. Coyote Science: A Timberdoodle Review
an apology/not an apology
share the good
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five finds friday (ankle boots, shaved ice, another great book)
We’re all doing the “school is almost over” happy dance this week at my house. Isn’t it always surprising how many other tasks can get accomplished when you remove one large every day item from your schedule? It’s been a happy week of slow mornings and wrapping up history lessons. Of finishing our geography studies and tapering off any novels…
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May’s Grove Giveaway
*** This post is sponsored by Grove Collaborative but the opinions are always my own. *** Three sinks.Countless dishes.Five kids.Two dogs. Stuff gets dirty here. A lot. I’ve been embracing Grove Collaborative products for more years than I can count. What I loved about them when I first signed up is what I love about them still. Their products smell…
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the burrow: a dining room tour
In progress. That’s my kitchen and dining room. But – mostly done. Of course, if you know me and my affinity for rearranging furniture and wall spaces and everything in between, then you know any home I live in will always, in part, be a work in progress. Despite the unstained shelves and the barn door that eventually needs stain…
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Scary Close: A Book Review (& some feelings this book unearthed as well)
It was just sitting on the shelf at the library when I was looking for something else. Donald Miller. Scary Close. I haven’t read anything by this author in ages. Last two novels I read of his – Blue Like Jazz and A Million Miles in a Thousand Years – felt like I read them in another life. Which –…
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epiphany: the order of things
For the last four and a half years there has been a lot on my plate. What other cliches could I use? My hands are fullPlates have been spinning.I’m constantly putting out fires. For months now (possibly longer) I’ve been going to bed and I’ve been waking up with the same question. How can I keep doing all this? For…
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rocks & roots
For YEARS we’ve been collecting rocks at random places. It’s the easiest souvenoir idea when you have lots of little kids. “You know what kids? Instead of a t-shirt or a toy that will break before we cross the state line, you can each have your very own souvenoir – that’s right. A rock!” Over the years some have been…
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the weekend ramble (1. a mouse 2. a race 3. a whine)
1. There was a mouse. It was deceased. The location of its demise? Under our stove. (Yes, please be horrified with me.) Its removal was necessary. The other day Otto asked me who my favorite child was. I think my answer is – whichever one of them gets that rotting mouse carcass out of my house. Turns out it was…
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five finds friday (may is sort of mean, also there’s a lot about potatoes in this one)
May is a bully of a month. She’s bossy and demanding. She has lists upon lists to complete. She says – finish that math curriculum. Wrap up that history course. Better turn in that project deadline before your summer plans. But then. She’s all sunshine and temptation. She’s luring you out of doors and whispering in your ear to ditch…
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45.
This morning, before I found the fortitude to crawl out from under the cozy covers my own age (that actual number) landed itself right in the middle of my mind. Plopped with a thudand sank deep. This isn’t mid life. That was five years ago. Maybe. If I’m a statistic. (And a lucky one at that.) This is the other…
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tell me about utah . . .
We’re on a countdown, and like most of my life lately, it has snuck up on me. In less than a month (what? for real?) we will be heading out for our fourth (seriously?) Beyond Wildwood adventure to the happiest place on earth. (Nope – it’s not Disneyland.) To say I cannot wait is an understatement. The fact that we…
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morning song: a poem
The house is quiet. I can hear my own bare feet pad along the floor. Think my own clear thoughts. This quiet beginningCan never be the way the day stays. And that’s alright. Bookends are what I prefer – Quiet at the startQuiet at the finishCome What May in the middle And the youngest daughter awakens. Her hug still warm…
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in between. it’s hard to be a teen. (and a teen’s momma.)
I’m trying to remember. Although I can’t honestly say that I recall it entirely. What it was like to be 12. Or 14. 16. At odds with my mind and my heart and my body. (I mean, I’m still pretty familiar with that in too many ways.) But I watch my kids. Long past the baby stage. Jetted right away…
