You wake up, thrilled to have a slow day with the kids. No school or activity schedules to worry about and not much going on.
You just need to clean up a little bit, do two or three loads of laundry, make a quick trip to the grocery store, wrap half a dozen gifts, do a little baking, host friends for play and lunch, return a few phone calls and bring a meal to a neighbor.
Not much.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
life lessons
“Dear God,” Twin A. prayed, “Please help *Susie…” He paused and turned to me, “I don’t know what to say.”
“I know. Me neither,” I told him. “But God knows how much you care about your friend. He hears you and understands your heart, even when you don’t know what to pray.”
As a mother, I want to have all of the answers for my children. When they hurt, I want to make it all better. But sometimes we can’t, and I believe the important thing in those moments is to teach them—show them—how to handle those moments when they come. Because they will come.
We can’t fix things for our neighbors, who are grieving the loss of a wonderful husband and father. But we can be a friend and build snow forts and play. We can make them a meal. We can make a donation. We can pray.
And in doing these things, we teach our children that people and relationships are important.
We’re holding each other tighter this Christmas season, savoring each moment. Because truly, none of us has any guarantee of tomorrow.
Enjoy your family. In the midst of the chaos and the errands and the wrapping, savor the moments when you’re together. Forget the mess and turn on some music. Dance. Hug.
We only get one life. Enjoy it to the fullest.
**name has been changed to protect privacy**
“I know. Me neither,” I told him. “But God knows how much you care about your friend. He hears you and understands your heart, even when you don’t know what to pray.”
As a mother, I want to have all of the answers for my children. When they hurt, I want to make it all better. But sometimes we can’t, and I believe the important thing in those moments is to teach them—show them—how to handle those moments when they come. Because they will come.
We can’t fix things for our neighbors, who are grieving the loss of a wonderful husband and father. But we can be a friend and build snow forts and play. We can make them a meal. We can make a donation. We can pray.
And in doing these things, we teach our children that people and relationships are important.
We’re holding each other tighter this Christmas season, savoring each moment. Because truly, none of us has any guarantee of tomorrow.
Enjoy your family. In the midst of the chaos and the errands and the wrapping, savor the moments when you’re together. Forget the mess and turn on some music. Dance. Hug.
We only get one life. Enjoy it to the fullest.
**name has been changed to protect privacy**
Thursday, December 10, 2009
neighbor update
Thank you for praying for our neighbor, Jay, and his family. I'm saddened to update this blog with news of his passing. My heart is heavy this morning for his wife and two children. Pray for them.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
please pray
I don't often post prayer requests on my blog, but this one is very close to home.
My neighbor was in a terrible car accident the day before Thanksgiving. Would you please keep him and his family in your prayers?
www.prayforjay.org
My neighbor was in a terrible car accident the day before Thanksgiving. Would you please keep him and his family in your prayers?
www.prayforjay.org
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Thanksgiving humor
At the dinner table last night…
Llama Papa: “Boys, our house is really clean right now. We need to work together to keep it clean for Thanksgiving in two days.”
Twin A.: “We need to keep it clean for TWO WHOLE DAYS?”
Twin B.: “I think we should just leave.”
Recurring conversation with the preschooler…
The Preschooler: “Are we going to eat turkey on Thanksgiving?”
Me: “Yes.”
The Preschooler: “Is it already dead?”
Me: “Yes.”
The Preschooler: “So we’re going to eat a dead turkey?”
Me: “Well, we’ll cook it. But, yeah.”
The Preschooler: “Who killed him?”
Me: “Um. The turkey farmer I think. They call it butchering.”
The Preschooler: “Did it hurt his feelings?”
Yes, I fully expect that he’ll eat nothing but green beans and mashed potatoes tomorrow.
And my personal favorite, yesterday before naptime…
The Preschooler: “I made a card.”
Me: “Nice! What does it say?”
The Preschooler: “Dear God, thank you for making me.”
I couldn’t agree more.
Happy Thanksgiving, everybody! I’m beyond thankful for my house full of noisy boys. (Well, most of the time anyway!)
Llama Papa: “Boys, our house is really clean right now. We need to work together to keep it clean for Thanksgiving in two days.”
Twin A.: “We need to keep it clean for TWO WHOLE DAYS?”
Twin B.: “I think we should just leave.”
Recurring conversation with the preschooler…
The Preschooler: “Are we going to eat turkey on Thanksgiving?”
Me: “Yes.”
The Preschooler: “Is it already dead?”
Me: “Yes.”
The Preschooler: “So we’re going to eat a dead turkey?”
Me: “Well, we’ll cook it. But, yeah.”
The Preschooler: “Who killed him?”
Me: “Um. The turkey farmer I think. They call it butchering.”
The Preschooler: “Did it hurt his feelings?”
Yes, I fully expect that he’ll eat nothing but green beans and mashed potatoes tomorrow.
And my personal favorite, yesterday before naptime…
The Preschooler: “I made a card.”
Me: “Nice! What does it say?”
The Preschooler: “Dear God, thank you for making me.”
I couldn’t agree more.
Happy Thanksgiving, everybody! I’m beyond thankful for my house full of noisy boys. (Well, most of the time anyway!)
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
canned carrots
What possessed me to buy these? I must have had some recipe in mind, but I can’t for the life of me remember what it was. That’s how long these have been sitting on my shelves. Going through the pantry today, I scooted them over to the side—after all, they’ve been there forever. I’m used to seeing them every time I put away groceries. But today I stop and think: why am I keeping these?
I collect things in my heart, too. Grudges, ways of coping, reactions to people. Some of these served a purpose for a time—it’s the way I got by. But now, today, they’re useless. I don’t need them anymore. So why keep them?
It’s time to throw out the carrots.
I collect things in my heart, too. Grudges, ways of coping, reactions to people. Some of these served a purpose for a time—it’s the way I got by. But now, today, they’re useless. I don’t need them anymore. So why keep them?
It’s time to throw out the carrots.
Monday, November 2, 2009
painting tips
Preschoolers love paint. Moms don't. It's messy and, well, it's messy.
I'm afraid I can't offer you much advice for making it less messy, but I DID repurpose an item destined for the garbage can into a cool paint holder.
Introducing, the camping egg carrier.

I bought this eons ago when it was just me and my husband darting off for a weekend of camping in California. Six eggs was plenty. Pancakes one morning, scrambled eggs the next...no problem. Enter three hungry boys. Now, six eggs don't get us through one morning. Last time I packed for a camping trip, I laughed at my tiny egg holder as I was putting an 18-count package of eggs into the cooler.
It's amazing how life changes.
Anyway, since our last camping trip, the egg holder has been floating around. The preschooler likes to carry things in it, so I let him play with it for awhile. I was just thinking it was time to toss it when the preschooler asked, "Can I paint today?"
Aha!
Introducing: our new paint tray. Perfect for a morning of messy painting!
I'm afraid I can't offer you much advice for making it less messy, but I DID repurpose an item destined for the garbage can into a cool paint holder.
Introducing, the camping egg carrier.
I bought this eons ago when it was just me and my husband darting off for a weekend of camping in California. Six eggs was plenty. Pancakes one morning, scrambled eggs the next...no problem. Enter three hungry boys. Now, six eggs don't get us through one morning. Last time I packed for a camping trip, I laughed at my tiny egg holder as I was putting an 18-count package of eggs into the cooler.
It's amazing how life changes.
Anyway, since our last camping trip, the egg holder has been floating around. The preschooler likes to carry things in it, so I let him play with it for awhile. I was just thinking it was time to toss it when the preschooler asked, "Can I paint today?"
Aha!
Introducing: our new paint tray. Perfect for a morning of messy painting!
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