Mean Mommy
I’ve got a confession to make. I’m a mean mom. Though it’s not exactly a secret. My kids have yelled it rather loudly, that’s how I know it’s true. I decided to see if I could discern a pattern, so I began to take note of the occasions the phrase was uttered. In the end, I wasn’t able to keep a running list because the reasons change with the breeze, too fast to keep up. Here’s a small sample: No, you can’t have candy for breakfast. No iPads before school. Stop fighting now because in 7.2 seconds someone will be hurt. No, I’m not buying you glasses, you don’t need…
Fruit & Consequences
My nephew sat at our kitchen table writing scripture, a consequence for something he had done. I sat across from him overseeing his progress. As children are known to do, he was whining and crying, arguing and bargaining, anything and everything he possibly could to get out of the simple task. “If I say it to you 5 times can I just write it 4 times?” “No.” “Grandpa lets me do it that way.” “I’m not.” Heavy sobs burst out, “but it’s so hard!” “I know.” “But I’ve been working real hard at not fighting this week.” “You have, I’m really proud of you.” “It’s taking so long and I’m…
4, 6, 8, 13, 16, 32
I can remember myself as an 18 year old walking down the aisle, orange roses in hand, scorched by the Texas sun but focused only on the handsome man waiting for me. I was a fledgling baby adult, thinking I was grown- the hallmark of those who aren’t yet. I was marrying my best friend, he was joining the military, life was going to be perfect. We were going to have the white picket fence with 2 kids and 2 dogs. Our life would be a picture of stability, comfort, and well behaved children. My short sightedness makes me chuckle. I’ve always been a daydreamer, prone to idealism. I couldn’t…
From the Oceans to the Mountains
Every blog I’ve written in the last couple of years has started with a simple thought. Over a short (and sometimes not so short) amount of time, the idea rolled around in my brain until it was fleshed out and shared here in my blog. But for the past month, ideas haven’t had time to marinate or be thoughtfully considered, hence the lack of posting. My brain has been functioning in a hop-skip-jump pattern. It’s the effect of trying to process too many things at one time and ending up glitching like the little girl in Wreck-It-Ralph. The catalyst behind my glitch? We moved. From the beautiful beaches of the…
Avengers & Easter
I just bought my tickets to Avengers Endgame. The end of an era. Starting with Iron Man in 2008, Marvel has released 21 movies, soon to be 22, and John and I have seen all but one in theaters. To include that time in 2014 we were asked to leave the theater because we tried to take a baby. We have been dedicated to these stories and characters for over a decade, and in just a couple weeks this iteration will come to an end. If you couldn’t tell, we are pretty big fans of superheroes around here. My favorites have been the characters with a strong moral compass, like…
Follow Your Dreams?
Peter was a fisherman. I don’t know much about fishing, because I refuse to touch a slimy, wiggling, gasping for air fish. From my limited understanding, it seems that his job was to catch the fish, sell the fish, and then catch more fish to sell, plus do all the mending and upkeep of nets and boats to continue fishing. Thanks to Google, I also know that fishermen tended to fish at night. So when Jesus meets Peter for the first time (Luke 5: 1-11), he’s found sitting on the shore mending his nets and probably trying to wrap things up before going home for some much needed rest. I…
When the time comes…
They don’t know me here. They know my husband, and perhaps know of us, maybe our reputation proceeds us— for good or bad, who knows. When I arrive, I am just a name. A handshake introduction, an awkward conversation; where are you from, what do you do? Simple questions that I can’t answer simply. There are simple facts to learn, Lauren, age thirty—*cough*, stay at home mom of four. They see the put together(ish) appearance that I aim for and that I am a special needs parent. Given time they will learn what that entails. We will eventually talk about my daughter, I’ll teach them the word hydranencephaly and try…
- Adoption, Depression, Faith, Family, Grief, Hope, Hydranencephaly, Life, Pressure, Special Needs, Special Needs Parenting, Unexpected
What Happened in the Fire?
I don’t know why it’s so easy to flippantly read about God’s miracles. Why don’t I get excited and jazzed every time I read about how he healed a blind man with spit or commanded the wind and waves to be still. Maybe it’s the unintentional byproduct of growing up in church that somehow these stories become “normal” to me. There’s nothing normal about the miraculous. You might be familiar with the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. It’s found in the third chapter of Daniel in the Bible. It’s one many children hear growing up, which is interesting because it’s just one chapter. Their names are mentioned in the…
Tis the Season for Reminiscing
The chicken thighs were boiling in my large stock pot on the stove, the air filled with the warm fragrance of chicken stock, and I was peeling and cubing potatoes. The next step would be getting the biscuits cut up for dumplings. This is one of my favorite meals to cook because it has 3 ingredients and is almost mindless in its preparation. Added to the fact that I always make it in obscenely large quantities, it’s one of my go to recipes to share with families in need of a meal, which is why I was making it again this week. Listening to the thwack of my knife against…
Finding Joy
There is a hush over my house. I hear the whirring of our white noise machine and my soft typing on this keyboard. Occasionally I hear my own sniffles, the jangle of a dog collar, and the chirp of a smoke alarm signaling it’s need for new batteries. This is a rare occurrence in our household, me managing to get up before anyone else, sitting in a quiet house. My husband is sleeping in, meaning he didn’t have to get up at 4:30, my sons have stayed in their own bed all night long, the baby has been fed and cuddled back to sleep, and Wonder Woman’s feeding pump hasn’t…
