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the hands and the feet
In the middle of The Falling Down, in the long days of Sad, I am completely overwhelmingly humbled by the absolute care of an assembly of humans who are saying to our family “We love you. You matter. You are not forgotten.” Most days it feels like Too Much To Accept although it has been my only choice and my…
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the time being
It’s like learning a new language. One that sticks to the roof of my mouth and feels like sandpaper to the tongue.
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a glimmer …
Sometimes hope looks like ….. a sparkling clean Suburban an hour spent playing soccer with friends an unexpected letter in the mail a kind text the lyrics to a song morning cuddles with the softest downy headed fellow generous children doing their chores without complaints friends serving up waffles and pancakes for breakfast for my children a familiar passage of…
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this …..
And I need to write words. They are a comfort. A source of sustenance in a lean season. The silence is frightening. The noise is overwhelming. And there is no place I feel okay. There is no Okay. Walking through this darkness Pinpricks of light and hands stretched out groping and stumbling and gasping. This is my night. And my day. Where…
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Keep Reading . . .
The newest little human.
Five Finds Friday (jewelry, ridiculous emails & oranges)
hi.
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talk is cheap
The blog posting has been hit or miss for a week or two now. Mostly miss. Part of my silence of late is due to my lack of anything good to say. My momma literally did tell me, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” (My goodness – the stack of instances in my life when…
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and here we go together ….
You guys. What sweet and lovely and painful and true and empathetic responses I received to yesterday’s post. They were all such kind reminders of why I even started this blog in the first place. Of why I read good literature. Of why stories are ever even written. That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that…
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Christmas In The Raw.
Does it feel like Christmas to you yet? And what in the world does feeling like Christmas even mean? Does it mean snow or presents wrapped and ready or baking in the kitchen? I don’t know. Here’s what I know – I’m in a bit of a holiday slump. For years I watched my father kind of ebb and…
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Ye Olde Christmas Chain. Again.
I am often guilty of working too hard in creating moments when the best moments are usually spontaneous. I am frequently guilty of contriving glorious traditions when my family is pleased with simple favorites. This is revealed to me every year when I think about our basic Paper Chain. The one made of strips of red and green construction paper. The…
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Don’t Homeschool at Home Only
You know what’s cool about homeschool? (Eating breakfast at 10 a.m. Not packing lunches. Reading a funny novel out loud together with your kids. Watching your daughter develop good writing habits. Wearing your pajamas to math class. Allowing your fourth grader to have the opportunity to give art lessons to his younger siblings.) Wait. That wasn’t where this post was…
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Road Trippin’: Tricks of the Trade
We’ve spent a LOT of hours in the car on the road with manymanymany small children. I don’t think we are experts in many things – but we might qualify as experts on sitting in the car with our kids. We’ve had lots of short trips, of course – trips to The Farm and the beach and…
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The Book on the Bed Christmas Tradition
I don’t think there’s a Keigley gene for Early Rising. Sure, as very newborn humans the kids woke up early – but 3 a.m. isn’t actually early. It’s more like – late. Or middle of the night. My dad was an extremely early riser. Despite his hopes and his best efforts, the habit has never actually rubbed off on me.…
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And The Middle Shall Be First
Twas the month of December and the tree was chopped down. No one can find the nativity scene but the tree stand magically reappeared after a two year hiatus. Christmas music blared and we all scrambled through the tissue paper and completely untidy array of ornaments treasured and tarnished and piled high in a less than glamorous Rubbermaid bin. We name every tree…
