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through the lens
It was so wonderful to have my brother and his family at our home for several days last week. We hadn’t all been together since my nephew graduated from high school last June. Fortunately the days were gloriously mild and we spent the majority of every day outside. And, for today, I’m letting the pictures do all the talking.
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leave a message after the beep . . .
Thank you for calling. We can’t come to the phone right now. We’re busy playing with Uncle Danny, Aunt Beckey, Cousin Max and their dog Zoe. We are wearing slap bracelets, running outside with Zoe and Ringo, crafting doll clothes at the dining room table with Aunt Beckey, watching movies with Max, riding on the shoulders of Uncle Danny, painting stripes of pink and purple in our hair and eating homemade chocolate chip cookies. We’ll be back soon. And we’ll be sure to bring more pictures.
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Watch!
Watch! It’s the constant cry echoing against the walls of our house. Crashing against the trees by the playground. Reverberating off the asphalt on our driveway. Look! And I do. Usually. And I try to remember what that’s like. Someone watching your performance. Watching and grinning and even sometimes clapping. Someone whose eyes are steady on you only. Whose focus is directed on you alone. Not many other things in adult life are like that now, are they? No wonder kids need a mommy and a daddy. No wonder it is a gift both beautiful and rare to feel appreciated and to be loved. Adored. I have been consciously trying…
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What I Was Trying To Say
Last weekend The Avett Brothers played after the Atlanta Braves game. And I was there. Maybe you don’t know who these brothers are. I don’t really know who they are either, of course. But I want to introduce you to what I do know. I know that I love their music. It’s folksy and rock and lyric-driven and they play guitars and banjos and other stringed instruments that sound first-rate together. I know that I love their lyrics. I’m pretty much tone-deaf. (I think that makes Kevin more sad than it makes me.) So when I like a song, when I really like a song, it’s probably because I really…
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the christmas chain
Every family has something like this – don’t they? You know . . . some count-down-the-days-until-Christmas-arrives sort of system. I’ve seen exquisitely decorated ones, numbered do-dads with a series of intricate doors and surprises, and even a chocolate for every day of December one. They all look good to me. But I’m pretty sure the appearance is not the point. Or at least I hope so. Because this year our family took the basic route. The classic old paper chain – one link for every day until Christmas day. (The great thing about having primarily younger children is that even old ideas are new to them. Which is why slap…
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keep clicking. please.
I can’t deny it. I get pretty stoked when someone asks me to write about the things I normally write about on my blog on their blog. I like Nikkie. I like her writing. And what I like best about it is this . . . her honesty. Her vulnerability. Her clear desire to chase after God despite all the past that could keep her running in another direction. Her family looks a little bit like ours – a handful of kids, a mix of adoption and natural birth. And that’s what I wrote about for her today. Family. It starts a little something like this . . . …
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It’s Not So Mysterious
I have three brothers. We grew up on the same dairy farm in Virginia. We had the same parents all of our lives. But despite all that we are pretty different people. We grew up the same but we grew up different. And I used to think that was so mysterious. So hard to comprehend. I kept asking the question . . . How can four kids be raised in the same environment, in the same home, by the same parents, and still be so different from one another? It’s taken me a lot of years and six children of my own to find the answer. (Or maybe not to find…
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This Is A True Story
Sometimes I am convinced that my children are actually better people than me. Kinder than I am. More compassionate. Speedier in love and more perceptive. For example . . . It had been a long day. Long. And I was home trying to get the younger kids corralled after soccer practice. Riley was hanging out with friends. Kevin was working. I was trying to feed Wilder his last bottle before bed. Finn was dumping rubber stamps on the floor and spilling blue ink. Bergen was sitting on the red chest trying to remove his cleats. Mosely had already removed her cleats and wanted to put them away in the red…
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Community
I am taking a crash course in community right now. Call it Community 101. Or something like that. And it’s beautiful. I don’t mean virtual community. (Although I think that’s pretty fun and actually, more helpful than I imagined it could be.) But I mean – flesh and bones, hands and feet, I will meet your needs – community. It might just be the first time in my life I am seeing what it looks like to let someone other than my family (or framily) rally around me and carry me when my legs are broken. (Not literally, alright guys?) And there’s a power in that weakness. And a peace…
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They’re Here
Oh hooray! Check us out! Many, many thanks Page.
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Operation Potty Traing: A Family Affair
I don’t enjoy potty training. It’s one of my least favorite parenting tasks. I don’t enjoy changing diapers either really, but somehow, for me, potty training is worse than a gross, but speedy and predictable diaper change. So Piper is two and has been talking about the potty for some time. Lately, she’s even begun to request a new diaper post-poo. I guess those are the generally accepted signs that she’s more ready than I am to start this messy, time-consuming journey. I decided to adopt my husband’s well known philosophy of not playing around. I immediately began employing a system that involves bribery and back up. I explained the…
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Lunch
I found myself staring at my plate during lunch today. The sight of my meal triggered some memory in me. It wasn’t an exciting meal, but it was a very familiar one. I had a scoop of this macaroni-tuna-egg-salad-type-thing and two slices of banana bread spread with cream cheese. Don’t worry, it doesn’t offend me if that sounds unappetizing to you. I know. It’s kind of a weird meal. I have no name for the type-thing I was eating. I just know it was this concoction that my mom brought out frequently during the summer growing up on our family’s dairy farm. I think maybe she made it up. She…
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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.
