Never in my life would I have imagined I would have a child like my Evelyn. She is a constant surprise – and has been since the day we learned her gender in utero. She is fearless, always knows what she wants, does not back down without a fight, rough around the edges, a go-getter, leader of the pack, queen bee, and on it goes. She is without a doubt, a Lion
It is usually blatantly obvious when a self-care plan is in dire need of being present around here. With homeschooling, online work, keeping house, teaching, and a million other tiny things I told someone the other day,”I feel like I can’t keep up.” Life is beautiful, but life is also full. That feeling is an eternal one, and I think inevitable, but it only becomes problematic when life is totally out
I have naively wondered, to my own shame, what purpose “awareness” months, colors, walks served. I have scratched my head over this. I have been intensely curious how wearing a color, ribbon or t-shirt could change anything. Was it a tactful way to rile hearts toward a cause to donate money? Was it to feel a sense of community? Was it for nothing more than the word, awareness? So that I could
On Saturday night I came home after an exhausting two days of the first half of the Grief Recovery Method Training. Normally I am not a relax in the bath tub person, and to my own chagrin I always go for the shower, mostly because I a mom to two littles, and find it easy, and quick. But Saturday night on my drive home I remembered something. I had experimented with
This isn’t an easy thing to admit. I struggle with contentment. I should stop here and say that I am not materialistic in the least. I would much prefer a getaway with pennies in our pockets but to be able to experience the fresh air, a new scenery, visit new places, over a designer bag, dress, watch, car any day. I’m weird, or maybe I’m old. Or maybe I’m both. I’m
The story we are asked to live never changes. Not really. It moves with time, takes on new forms with twists and turns, but it is always the same. Beautifully, sometimes-not-so-wonderfully, un-mistakeably Ours. On the other hand the way we tell it changes. We can tell it extravagantly. Reluctantly. Sadly. Anxiously. With a wild heart still seeking. Through bitter tears. With anger. With depression. With scants of hope. With joy.
Last weekend we took a little family road trip, and some things just happen in car rides. Who can explain it? Maybe it is the absence of distractions, presence of intimate spacing and of course, time. I love road trips for this reason. On the way home, I found myself in a full-blown meltdown in conversation with my husband. It wasn’t what he was saying, it’s what I wasn’t saying.
You may or may not have noticed, this place is crickets and has been for a while. I have seen dozens of bloggers leaving their blogs for Instagram (because it is so darn easy!) in the past year, and I honest to goodness toyed with the idea, back and forth and back and forth some more for months. I decided (today!) that I would keep a blog on this website,