Social Media these days is a real joy (insert sarcasm here)
A typical exchange may go something like this:
*Person A post video of nondescript doctor saying COVID-19 is all a hoax or something to that effect.
Person B: That's what I've been saying all along! A HOAX I TELL YOU
Person C: I think this guy is a chiropractor, you may want to do some research
Person A: Thanks for your concern, NANCY! I did do my research, that's why I posted the video
Person D: If you are so sure he's right, why don't you go outside-maybe you'll catch it
Person E: I don't know. what's. happen-ing
The video can also say we are all going to die, or anything in between...doesn't really matter.
Amazingly, not one person I've spoken to in real life- and I've probably spoken to more people in the last month on the phone, via the computer or from across the street than I have in a long time- talk like that. Reason number 564880097 to stay off of social media I guess.
Tuesday, April 14, 2020
Sunday, April 12, 2020
Day 30- Easter
I've seen so many social media posts today calling this "the sweetest Easter ever"... they aren't wrong.
Somehow, even though we can't leave our homes, I felt more connected this Easter than I have in a long time. I missed being with my parents and siblings' families terribly but there was something about taking all of the rush of the day (really any holiday where children are involved) out of the equation that I think resonated with a lot of us.
The Easter bunny still found us, we still found time to stuff our faces full of food, we still spent time with our families (thank you, Zoom), we still got dressed up (much to the male half of my family's dismay) and we still celebrated the reason for the season. His is risen, indeed...was there ever any doubt?
Maybe. Maybe I doubted that Easter could still be Easter if it wasn't just so. I am glad to be wrong.
Also we dyed Gracie's hair pink today. Hate to tell ya kid, but your hair looks like an Easter egg (name that movie).
Somehow, even though we can't leave our homes, I felt more connected this Easter than I have in a long time. I missed being with my parents and siblings' families terribly but there was something about taking all of the rush of the day (really any holiday where children are involved) out of the equation that I think resonated with a lot of us.
The Easter bunny still found us, we still found time to stuff our faces full of food, we still spent time with our families (thank you, Zoom), we still got dressed up (much to the male half of my family's dismay) and we still celebrated the reason for the season. His is risen, indeed...was there ever any doubt?
Maybe. Maybe I doubted that Easter could still be Easter if it wasn't just so. I am glad to be wrong.
Also we dyed Gracie's hair pink today. Hate to tell ya kid, but your hair looks like an Easter egg (name that movie).
Saturday, April 11, 2020
Day 29
My large family has a tradition, on your birthday, where we go around the table and name our favorite thing about the birthday boy or girl. Last year, on Gracie's birthday, we got all of the way around the table to my adorable two-year-old niece. She smiled the sweetest smile and said, "I don't know. what. is. happ-ening."
And that pretty much sums up life right now.
Most conversations you have with people go around and around in similar ways: Do you think school will re-open? Do you think there will be summer camps? How long are they saying this will last? Does anywhere have toilet paper?
But the bottom line is that we don't know. what is. happ-ening.
Today I put on my Walmart bunny suit and for 1.5 hours my family drove around and I waved my little bunny heart out at children big and small. Really got into character too.
Afterwards, Gracie declared it the best Easter of her life.
And for the 1 millionth time in my 39 years I learned that not having answers to the big things does not mean we can't find joy in the little ones.
And that pretty much sums up life right now.
Most conversations you have with people go around and around in similar ways: Do you think school will re-open? Do you think there will be summer camps? How long are they saying this will last? Does anywhere have toilet paper?
But the bottom line is that we don't know. what is. happ-ening.
Today I put on my Walmart bunny suit and for 1.5 hours my family drove around and I waved my little bunny heart out at children big and small. Really got into character too.
Afterwards, Gracie declared it the best Easter of her life.
And for the 1 millionth time in my 39 years I learned that not having answers to the big things does not mean we can't find joy in the little ones.
Thursday, April 9, 2020
Day 27
A friend shared this with me this morning. It gave me chills, thought it was worth preserving here.
How the Virus Stole Easter
By Kristi Bothur
With a nod to Dr. Seuss
By Kristi Bothur
With a nod to Dr. Seuss
Twas late in ‘19 when the virus began
Bringing chaos and fear to all people, each land.
Bringing chaos and fear to all people, each land.
People were sick, hospitals full,
Doctors overwhelmed, no one in school.
Doctors overwhelmed, no one in school.
As winter gave way to the promise of spring,
The virus raged on, touching peasant and king.
The virus raged on, touching peasant and king.
People hid in their homes from the enemy unseen.
They YouTubed and Zoomed, social-distanced, and cleaned.
They YouTubed and Zoomed, social-distanced, and cleaned.
April approached and churches were closed.
“There won’t be an Easter,” the world supposed.
“There won’t be an Easter,” the world supposed.
“There won’t be church services, and egg hunts are out.
No reason for new dresses when we can’t go about.”
No reason for new dresses when we can’t go about.”
Holy Week started, as bleak as the rest.
The world was focused on masks and on tests.
The world was focused on masks and on tests.
“Easter can’t happen this year,” it proclaimed.
“Online and at home, it just won’t be the same.”
“Online and at home, it just won’t be the same.”
Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, the days came and went.
The virus pressed on; it just would not relent.
The virus pressed on; it just would not relent.
The world woke Sunday and nothing had changed.
The virus still menaced, the people, estranged.
The virus still menaced, the people, estranged.
“Pooh pooh to the saints,” the world was grumbling.
“They’re finding out now that no Easter is coming.
“They’re finding out now that no Easter is coming.
“They’re just waking up! We know just what they’ll do!
Their mouths will hang open a minute or two,
And then all the saints will all cry boo-hoo.
Their mouths will hang open a minute or two,
And then all the saints will all cry boo-hoo.
“That noise,” said the world, “will be something to hear.”
So it paused and the world put a hand to its ear.
So it paused and the world put a hand to its ear.
And it did hear a sound coming through all the skies.
It started down low, then it started to rise.
It started down low, then it started to rise.
But the sound wasn’t depressed.
Why, this sound was triumphant!
It couldn’t be so!
But it grew with abundance!
Why, this sound was triumphant!
It couldn’t be so!
But it grew with abundance!
The world stared around, popping its eyes.
Then it shook! What it saw was a shocking surprise!
Then it shook! What it saw was a shocking surprise!
Every saint in every nation, the tall and the small,
Was celebrating Jesus in spite of it all!
Was celebrating Jesus in spite of it all!
It hadn’t stopped Easter from coming! It came!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!
And the world with its life quite stuck in quarantine
Stood puzzling and puzzling.
“Just how can it be?”
Stood puzzling and puzzling.
“Just how can it be?”
“It came without bonnets, it came without bunnies,
It came without egg hunts, cantatas, or money.”
It came without egg hunts, cantatas, or money.”
Then the world thought of something it hadn’t before.
“Maybe Easter,” it thought, “doesn’t come from a store.
Maybe Easter, perhaps, means a little bit more.”
“Maybe Easter,” it thought, “doesn’t come from a store.
Maybe Easter, perhaps, means a little bit more.”
And what happened then?
Well....the story’s not done.
What will YOU do?
Will you share with that one
Or two or more people needing hope in this night?
Will you share the source of your life in this fight?
Well....the story’s not done.
What will YOU do?
Will you share with that one
Or two or more people needing hope in this night?
Will you share the source of your life in this fight?
The churches are empty - but so is the tomb,
And Jesus is victor over death, doom, and gloom.
And Jesus is victor over death, doom, and gloom.
So this year at Easter, let this be our prayer,
As the virus still rages all around, everywhere.
As the virus still rages all around, everywhere.
May the world see hope when it looks at God’s people.
May the world see the church is not a building or steeple.
May the world find Faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection,
May the world find Joy in a time of dejection.
May 2020 be known as the year of survival,
But not only that -
Let it start a revival.
May the world see the church is not a building or steeple.
May the world find Faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection,
May the world find Joy in a time of dejection.
May 2020 be known as the year of survival,
But not only that -
Let it start a revival.
Wednesday, April 8, 2020
Day 26- A Tale of Two Quarantines
So many times during all of this I have been reminded of the time I was on hospital bed rest before Rip was born.
For six weeks I was confined to one room (and really one bed, unless I was showering or said bed was being changed).
Obviously that quarantine would come to an end, one way or the other, and while this one will too the timing is less certain.
But there have been many similarities in my emotions during both of those times.
I am a big lover of both books and Jesus...but I found then and I find now I don't have the concentration for reading or really prayer. It's like my body is in this constant state of tension that can't be released.
I found that reading and prayer were my biggest sources of comfort in the aftermath of Rip's death, and I expect I will find myself there again in whatever "after" looks like this time.
The other lesson I learned when on bed rest was to enjoy the present.
I remember vividly- and listen, this happened while I was in the bathroom and I wish it hadn't but I was eight months pregnant and on bedrest, it was either going to be there or the bed- having this overwhelming feeling of gratitude. This feeling that no matter how things turned out, I was thankful for the time I had right in that moment and I would always be thankful for it. I still am.
I am trying hard to remember that now. This time is scary and uncertain- and I really don't do well with that (who does?) but it can also be a gift. I can do things I know will ease my soul for the moment (long walks, watch Arrested Development, this time I can even drink wine!) and not worry too much about the things I am not doing or what will happen tomorrow.
Every day of my bedrest I wrote down what I ate and who came to visit in a little book with a bible verse on each page.
I thought about doing that now, but let's be honest- my visitor page would be pretty pathetic and my food diary would consist primarily of Doritos, Twizzlers and some wine. I did however look for a verse this morning. My favorite verse, Phil 4:8. I realized after the fact that is also today's date.
4.8.20
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Phil 4:8
For six weeks I was confined to one room (and really one bed, unless I was showering or said bed was being changed).
Obviously that quarantine would come to an end, one way or the other, and while this one will too the timing is less certain.
But there have been many similarities in my emotions during both of those times.
I am a big lover of both books and Jesus...but I found then and I find now I don't have the concentration for reading or really prayer. It's like my body is in this constant state of tension that can't be released.
I found that reading and prayer were my biggest sources of comfort in the aftermath of Rip's death, and I expect I will find myself there again in whatever "after" looks like this time.
The other lesson I learned when on bed rest was to enjoy the present.
I remember vividly- and listen, this happened while I was in the bathroom and I wish it hadn't but I was eight months pregnant and on bedrest, it was either going to be there or the bed- having this overwhelming feeling of gratitude. This feeling that no matter how things turned out, I was thankful for the time I had right in that moment and I would always be thankful for it. I still am.
I am trying hard to remember that now. This time is scary and uncertain- and I really don't do well with that (who does?) but it can also be a gift. I can do things I know will ease my soul for the moment (long walks, watch Arrested Development, this time I can even drink wine!) and not worry too much about the things I am not doing or what will happen tomorrow.
Every day of my bedrest I wrote down what I ate and who came to visit in a little book with a bible verse on each page.
I thought about doing that now, but let's be honest- my visitor page would be pretty pathetic and my food diary would consist primarily of Doritos, Twizzlers and some wine. I did however look for a verse this morning. My favorite verse, Phil 4:8. I realized after the fact that is also today's date.
4.8.20
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Phil 4:8
Tuesday, April 7, 2020
Day 25
I've spent the best $50 of my life on a blow up "Candy Land" pool from Amazon. After a rough start to so-called spring break yesterday, this beautiful piece of plastic was delivered in the nick of time and the kids spent 6 hours floating in it today. Praise.
The next two weeks are supposed to be the worst yet in South Carolina. I feel like they've been saying that for the last two weeks but maybe I'm wrong. We officially went under a "stay at home" order today at five. Everyone's phones went off and scared the daylights out of a group of people whose nerves are already SHOT I tell you.
The alert read " GO HOME. STAY HOME. TRAVEL ONLY FOR WORK & ESSENTIAL. VIRUS SPREADING IN ALL SC COUNTIES."
I imagine everyone in the state's eyes collectively darting back and forth.
My Easter bunny costume did not arrive on time today, and it looks like it is supposed to rain on Sunday. I mean, grand scheme clearly not that big of a deal but I've learned I can (sort of) deal with quarantine but I don't deal well with quarantine in the rain. All bets are off quarantine in the rain on a major holiday I can't spend with my family and no bunny suit.
It is, however, Taco Tuesday and there is plenty of solace to be found in ground beef tacos and traditions that don't have to change.
The next two weeks are supposed to be the worst yet in South Carolina. I feel like they've been saying that for the last two weeks but maybe I'm wrong. We officially went under a "stay at home" order today at five. Everyone's phones went off and scared the daylights out of a group of people whose nerves are already SHOT I tell you.
The alert read " GO HOME. STAY HOME. TRAVEL ONLY FOR WORK & ESSENTIAL. VIRUS SPREADING IN ALL SC COUNTIES."
I imagine everyone in the state's eyes collectively darting back and forth.
My Easter bunny costume did not arrive on time today, and it looks like it is supposed to rain on Sunday. I mean, grand scheme clearly not that big of a deal but I've learned I can (sort of) deal with quarantine but I don't deal well with quarantine in the rain. All bets are off quarantine in the rain on a major holiday I can't spend with my family and no bunny suit.
It is, however, Taco Tuesday and there is plenty of solace to be found in ground beef tacos and traditions that don't have to change.
Day 23
Day 23
This morning was Palm Sunday. I woke up all full of promise that I was going to bring the meaning of this day to my family and was in tears by 9 am when the kids were fighting and Parke had been in the bathroom for the last 45 minutes while I was begging everyone to come to “home Sunday school”.
They appeased me with a 12 minute video on Palm Sunday for kids before announcing it was way too long. Jesus be a spanking.
I tried to rally and make myself one of these palm crosses I am seeing all over social media. I took the little dog on a solo walk and ran into a friend of mine whose whole family is in Louisiana. Many of them are sick and possibly dying and she isn't sure if she can see them again. She sat there sobbing and I couldn’t do anything because we aren’t allowed to touch. This is really hard.
I made my palm cross. It looks pretty but I nearly lost my religion making it.
The rest of the afternoon I pretty much spent cleaning the house and listening to Bill Withers, “Lean on Me”, “Aint No Sunshine”...he died this week but I don’t think it was COVID related.
Sam is really into the Lion Guard TV show and told me he would like to go on to heaven so he could meet Kion, the main character. So there’s that.
I’ve bought myself an adult-sized bunny suit to wear on Easter. Never let it be said I’m not trying.
We ended the night watching “America’s Funniest Home Videos”. In the top right corner it says “Taped in Feb 2020” I guess so people won’t get all worked up that Alphonso is high fiving the audience. I can’t help but wonder if any of us will ever give a high five again without feeling like we are committing a crime.
Quarantine- Day 22
Day 22
I ordered a carbon monoxide detector at 3 am this morning. I figured of all the things I cannot control right now, that’s one thing I can.
After that I went back to sleep until almost 7 am…that’s been one of the silver linings of all of this…this whole family lays about every morning until 7 or 8 am. The first few weeks I leapt out of bed and did the whole get dressed thing but honestly it just prolonged the day.
That’s a little dramatic. I am, embarrassingly so at times, for the most part enjoying this time with my family. Take away the whole killer virus and add in the ability to see extended family/friends and this life is sort of what I've spent the better part of my last few years praying for.
I am writing this listening to my children playing happily in the shower together. Gracie just asked Sam to grab her pajamas when he got out. I heard him yell “Gwacie, I got you a nightgown and undapants”.
It’s not all like that- every morning Sam asks, “Mama, what are we going to do today?”
And I have the overwhelming urge to say “What we do every day Pinky, take over the world”
But instead I try to make staying in our house and going on a bike ride for the 100000000 time sound exciting.
Today is Saturday so I went to my friend’s house for a social distancing happy hour. It was wonderful and I was a nervous wreck the whole time. That pretty much sums up this whole experience.
Oh and also, today I learned we are supposed to take off our shoes because if we are somewhere when someone with corona sneezes, and we walk in it and bring it in our homes we are all doomed. So there’s that.
Friday, December 13, 2019
If Its Meant To Be
I am doing a daily advent book this season, and the directive this morning was to share something that God is doing in your life right now.
The thing is, I know what God is doing in my life right now, I'm just not sure I like it.
God is asking me to trust Him.
You see, for a very long time now (well, since I had Sam), I've wanted another baby. My husband does not.
This is not me throwing Parke under the bus- he has very, very good reasons for not wanting another child. Ours has, obviously, not been an easy path to parenthood. Even after Rip, my pregnancies ranged from frightening to downright terrifying at times. Not to mention- kids are expensive (have you noticed??)
And to be honest, in my heart of hearts, I'm not even sure we should have another baby. We have two healthy children. I am healthy. We have such a good life. Why would I even think of rocking this boat?
And yet. Why won't the desire go away?
All of my life, I've wanted three children. And in the most heartbreaking way, I have them. What do you do when a prayer like this is answered...and it isn't?
You trust God. And it is so very hard.
Because His answer is going to be- Yes, Not Yet....or No. And there is a very real possibility that it is going to be "No".
And so, my prayer in this advent season is to trust God with my whole heart, and to lean not on my own understanding. I was praying about this the other day (wanting another baby, what if I do, what if I don't, and on and on) and very clearly I heard in my head "Seek first the kingdom of God".
I don't know what that means, other than to keep praying. So that's what I am trying to do.
There is a saying I love, and will likely butcher: "If its meant to be yours, it will not pass you by"
Key word is "if". The achiever in me hates "ifs". If I push long and hard enough, I can MAKE that if go away...but is that right? Is it right for my family? Is it God's will for my life? How will I know?
Advent is a season of hope, of waiting. I don't know what the answer to my question will be. I'm almost 40 (gulp) so there’s every chance it’s a no. Either way what I am being asked to do is to trust.
Its not easy...but if its meant to be.
In the meantime, I think I'll just buy myself a puppy.
The thing is, I know what God is doing in my life right now, I'm just not sure I like it.
God is asking me to trust Him.
You see, for a very long time now (well, since I had Sam), I've wanted another baby. My husband does not.
This is not me throwing Parke under the bus- he has very, very good reasons for not wanting another child. Ours has, obviously, not been an easy path to parenthood. Even after Rip, my pregnancies ranged from frightening to downright terrifying at times. Not to mention- kids are expensive (have you noticed??)
And to be honest, in my heart of hearts, I'm not even sure we should have another baby. We have two healthy children. I am healthy. We have such a good life. Why would I even think of rocking this boat?
And yet. Why won't the desire go away?
All of my life, I've wanted three children. And in the most heartbreaking way, I have them. What do you do when a prayer like this is answered...and it isn't?
You trust God. And it is so very hard.
Because His answer is going to be- Yes, Not Yet....or No. And there is a very real possibility that it is going to be "No".
And so, my prayer in this advent season is to trust God with my whole heart, and to lean not on my own understanding. I was praying about this the other day (wanting another baby, what if I do, what if I don't, and on and on) and very clearly I heard in my head "Seek first the kingdom of God".
I don't know what that means, other than to keep praying. So that's what I am trying to do.
There is a saying I love, and will likely butcher: "If its meant to be yours, it will not pass you by"
Key word is "if". The achiever in me hates "ifs". If I push long and hard enough, I can MAKE that if go away...but is that right? Is it right for my family? Is it God's will for my life? How will I know?
Advent is a season of hope, of waiting. I don't know what the answer to my question will be. I'm almost 40 (gulp) so there’s every chance it’s a no. Either way what I am being asked to do is to trust.
Its not easy...but if its meant to be.
In the meantime, I think I'll just buy myself a puppy.
Thursday, October 3, 2019
I Believe
Believe: Feel sure of the truth of
I believe turquoise makes life happier
I believe you can question your faith and still be faithful
I believe in childhood
I believe in rainbows, four leaf clovers and heads up pennies
I believe in saying I love you and meaning it
I believe in miracles, but I wish there were more of them
I believe that holidays are special
I believe in the smell of a baby's head, even when that baby is five
I believe that everything looks better in the morning
I believe in sweating it out
I believe in champagne
I believe in pouring your heart out
I believe in girl's weekends
I believe in sticking it out
I believe nobody feels 100% all of the time
I believe looking bad never solved anything
I believe in books
I believe writing is the best therapy
I believe that trust is hard
I believe in prayers before bed
I believe God has heard my prayers
I believe that social media is bad, but I use it anyway
I believe in cleaning the house every day
I believe in unexpected laughter
I believe in daily phone calls with your mama
I believe in sisters
I believe in loving someone for life
I believe life is good, and bad, and good again
I believe in looking on the bright side
I believe sometimes its okay to take a time out
I believe salt water cures almost everything
I believe in hunting for shark's teeth and shells
I believe in travel
I believe in compliments
I believe in family recipes
I believe in home cooked meals, I just don't want to cook them
I believe in long walks
I believe it can be hard to stand up for yourself
I believe we get too caught up in being right
I believe in listening to both sides of the story
I believe I should stay away from WebMD
I believe we are losing touch with each other
I believe in crying in the shower
I believe in new outfits for special occasions
I believe in looking for the best in others
I believe in family
I believe sometimes we need to write down what we believe.
I believe turquoise makes life happier
I believe you can question your faith and still be faithful
I believe in childhood
I believe in rainbows, four leaf clovers and heads up pennies
I believe in saying I love you and meaning it
I believe in miracles, but I wish there were more of them
I believe that holidays are special
I believe in the smell of a baby's head, even when that baby is five
I believe that everything looks better in the morning
I believe in sweating it out
I believe in champagne
I believe in pouring your heart out
I believe in girl's weekends
I believe in sticking it out
I believe nobody feels 100% all of the time
I believe looking bad never solved anything
I believe in books
I believe writing is the best therapy
I believe that trust is hard
I believe in prayers before bed
I believe God has heard my prayers
I believe that social media is bad, but I use it anyway
I believe in cleaning the house every day
I believe in unexpected laughter
I believe in daily phone calls with your mama
I believe in sisters
I believe in loving someone for life
I believe life is good, and bad, and good again
I believe in looking on the bright side
I believe sometimes its okay to take a time out
I believe salt water cures almost everything
I believe in hunting for shark's teeth and shells
I believe in travel
I believe in compliments
I believe in family recipes
I believe in home cooked meals, I just don't want to cook them
I believe in long walks
I believe it can be hard to stand up for yourself
I believe we get too caught up in being right
I believe in listening to both sides of the story
I believe I should stay away from WebMD
I believe we are losing touch with each other
I believe in crying in the shower
I believe in new outfits for special occasions
I believe in looking for the best in others
I believe in family
I believe sometimes we need to write down what we believe.
Monday, September 9, 2019
On Faith
Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see- Hebrews 11:1
Faith can be a confusing thing. In order to "have faith", as Christians, we must hope and believe in a God who can, at least sometimes, seem very far away. I know I can't be the only one who has wondered why the Almightly doesn't just come on down and make Himself known- you know, glowing lights and booming thunder and burning bushes? Old Testament Style.
Being a Christian these days can be heavy. There are a lot of not so great connotations. And it would be A LOT easier (I mean, mainly on me) if Jesus would come along and be His great, loving self. I could just point to Him and be like- See! THIS is what I was talking about!!
Or when non-believers look at you like you're crazy because CLEARLY science has it right and the Bible has it wrong? Wouldn't it be cool if God just opened the heavens and was all "Hey Guys! Alpha and Omega here".
But, yeah- faith. "Assurance of what we do not see"
And then there are the parts of faith that can be even harder to understand. I am, along with half of the internet, following the story of Eva Love. A seven year old girl who, due to a freak accident, is fighting for her life. A seven year old girl who has a younger brother and parents who love her..it hits very close to home. Parents who did EVERYTHING RIGHT. Parents who are GOOD CHRISTIANS. It is very hard not so say why God?! Why not just heal this child and prove all of the doctors and naysayers wrong?
And He might- I pray so hard that he does.
While Eva's parents are holding on to their faith by gasps and threads, tens of thousands of other believers are praying for their little girl. While her family is weak (and I mean this in the sense that their minds and bodies are exhausted; not in the least that they are weak people), these followers- by their faith- are strong.
It reminds of a quote by CS Lewis:
It reminds of a quote by CS Lewis:
I believe in Christ as I believe that the sun has risen: not because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.
There are tens of thousands of people praying for a little girl they've never met. Praying because they have faith. Hope for and assurance of what is not (yet) seen.
Maybe they have reason for their faith. Maybe they have two rainbow babies, brought to them by countless small miracles along the way. 11:11's, burning bushes- tomato, tomahto.
Sometimes faith is hard. Most of the time faith is hard. But maybe it's not Christ Himself we need to see- maybe its just seeing Him in someone (everyone?) else.
Monday, August 26, 2019
Fuller House
The way I see it, there are two types of kids: Kids who are bad in front of your face, and kids who are bad behind your back.
As much as I hate to admit it, I was the sneaky kid...unfortunately (or fortunately, as my almost 40 year old self sees it now), I almost always got caught.
Sammy is my "what you see is what you get, bad in front of your face" kid. I'll tell him not to do something and I can almost see those wheels start turning immediately. If he feels like whacking the fool out of his sister is worth the time-out...well, Gracie better be ready to duck.
Gracie, on the other hand, is my sneak. Her classic line when asked if she did something: "I don't remember". Homegirl has had a head circumference in the 99% as long as I've known her, and plenty of brains underneath. Playing dumb = Sneaky. Luckily, she's also been "blessed" with the get caught gene.
Our latest battle has been over the TV show "Fuller House". Like every good 80's child, I loved Full House growing up, and thought it was great seeing it brought back to life. Well, I thought it was great until DJ and the gang started telling my 7 and 4 year old about the birds and the bees. And drugs. And making out. And just can we go back to watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse please?
Anyway, Fuller House was removed from the rotation at the Harris household, permanently. Or, until my poor unsuspecting mother watched the kids for me one day. When I called to check in and she said they were watching a show Gracie wanted to watch, and then I heard Gracie frantically hollering in the background "I don't want to watch this anymore!!!!", the jig was up. As were her dessert privileges for the week (Yes, we eat dessert every night. You only live once, eat the m&ms).
So, we move along to this weekend when Gracie had her second ever spend the night at a friend's. We discussed how house rules still apply. WWMD (What would Mama Do?) All seemed to have been a success when I picked Gracie and her friend up the next day to do a little school project shopping at Michael's.
We'd just reached the checkout line where People magazine just so happened to be doing a front cover feature on Lori Loughlin.
"Oh, look," Gracie's little friend pointed out good old Aunt Becky, "there's that lady from the show you made us watch!"
I wish I had a camera to capture the look on the little sneak's face right that moment. Been there sister...and so will you, every.time. you lie to your mama.
Last night we had a long talk about trust and the privileges that come along with that trust. And in the end, Gracie may have gotten exactly what she wanted. She's not going to be having any spend the night parties for quite some time...you might even say, for the foreseeable future, its going to be a much Fuller House.
As much as I hate to admit it, I was the sneaky kid...unfortunately (or fortunately, as my almost 40 year old self sees it now), I almost always got caught.
Sammy is my "what you see is what you get, bad in front of your face" kid. I'll tell him not to do something and I can almost see those wheels start turning immediately. If he feels like whacking the fool out of his sister is worth the time-out...well, Gracie better be ready to duck.
Gracie, on the other hand, is my sneak. Her classic line when asked if she did something: "I don't remember". Homegirl has had a head circumference in the 99% as long as I've known her, and plenty of brains underneath. Playing dumb = Sneaky. Luckily, she's also been "blessed" with the get caught gene.
Our latest battle has been over the TV show "Fuller House". Like every good 80's child, I loved Full House growing up, and thought it was great seeing it brought back to life. Well, I thought it was great until DJ and the gang started telling my 7 and 4 year old about the birds and the bees. And drugs. And making out. And just can we go back to watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse please?
Anyway, Fuller House was removed from the rotation at the Harris household, permanently. Or, until my poor unsuspecting mother watched the kids for me one day. When I called to check in and she said they were watching a show Gracie wanted to watch, and then I heard Gracie frantically hollering in the background "I don't want to watch this anymore!!!!", the jig was up. As were her dessert privileges for the week (Yes, we eat dessert every night. You only live once, eat the m&ms).
So, we move along to this weekend when Gracie had her second ever spend the night at a friend's. We discussed how house rules still apply. WWMD (What would Mama Do?) All seemed to have been a success when I picked Gracie and her friend up the next day to do a little school project shopping at Michael's.
We'd just reached the checkout line where People magazine just so happened to be doing a front cover feature on Lori Loughlin.
"Oh, look," Gracie's little friend pointed out good old Aunt Becky, "there's that lady from the show you made us watch!"
I wish I had a camera to capture the look on the little sneak's face right that moment. Been there sister...and so will you, every.time. you lie to your mama.
Last night we had a long talk about trust and the privileges that come along with that trust. And in the end, Gracie may have gotten exactly what she wanted. She's not going to be having any spend the night parties for quite some time...you might even say, for the foreseeable future, its going to be a much Fuller House.
Wednesday, August 21, 2019
A Moment Like This
I was recently asked to serve on a committee at our church. I think this is probably something that happens a lot as your kids get older and you become more invested in their faith walk and who is helping guide it. In other words, there's a sucker born every day.
Anyway, the day of our first committee meeting Parke was out of town, I had no babysitter and it was approximately 1000 degrees. Needless to say, we rolled up to the church 5 minutes late. Things were going well.
The sweet lady in the reception area offered to watch Gracie and Sam and directed me to the "parlor", where the rest of the group was already in session. Not familiar with that area of the church I asked for directions.
As it turns out, the parlor is a little area to the side of the church where they hold Boy Scout meetings and gather before weddings...and funerals. The last time I'd been in the parlor, with no presence of mind to ask what it was called or anything else for that matter, was just before Rip's funeral.
I am amazed as human beings how life is made up of so many moments like this. Moments where you are literally thrown into a room that holds some of the worst memories of your life and yet we smile, nod, pull out our pens, and get to work.
Everyone has a "parlor" or two or three. A road, a house, a hospital room where their lives changed forever. But somehow we keep moving. We keep showing up. We keep going.
What felt like much later the door cracked open and two slightly disheveled children were deposited back to me. Smiling and shy, and smelling damp and sweet - I couldn't help but wonder if there was a ghost of a girl 9 years before still somewhere in this parlor. Stuck wondering if she would ever get a moment just like this.
Anyway, the day of our first committee meeting Parke was out of town, I had no babysitter and it was approximately 1000 degrees. Needless to say, we rolled up to the church 5 minutes late. Things were going well.
The sweet lady in the reception area offered to watch Gracie and Sam and directed me to the "parlor", where the rest of the group was already in session. Not familiar with that area of the church I asked for directions.
As it turns out, the parlor is a little area to the side of the church where they hold Boy Scout meetings and gather before weddings...and funerals. The last time I'd been in the parlor, with no presence of mind to ask what it was called or anything else for that matter, was just before Rip's funeral.
I am amazed as human beings how life is made up of so many moments like this. Moments where you are literally thrown into a room that holds some of the worst memories of your life and yet we smile, nod, pull out our pens, and get to work.
Everyone has a "parlor" or two or three. A road, a house, a hospital room where their lives changed forever. But somehow we keep moving. We keep showing up. We keep going.
What felt like much later the door cracked open and two slightly disheveled children were deposited back to me. Smiling and shy, and smelling damp and sweet - I couldn't help but wonder if there was a ghost of a girl 9 years before still somewhere in this parlor. Stuck wondering if she would ever get a moment just like this.
Saturday, November 18, 2017
Go After It
Today marks seven years since Rip left this earth.
He was alive for seven days- people often make a big fuss over how God could have created the universe in seven days, but I can certainly see how whole worlds can be created in just such a time.
In 2010, I could not have imagined making it through seven minutes, much less seven years, but here we are.
Earlier this year, Gracie attended a vacation bible school where the motto was, "Do Good, Seek Peace, and Go After It".
That little phrase stuck to my heart as exactly what I've been trying to do since Rip died. My life is spent trying to be a better person, to seek out the good, in his name.
In the last couple of weeks I've seen a challenge on social media, asking people to display seven photos that represent their life. I've said time and again that our life- which is a very good life- is what it is because of Rip Harris. We would not have Gracie and Sam without him, Parke and I would not be nearly as kind to one another without him and I would not have learned to be brave without him. He changed us in all the ways we could be changed.
So here are seven pictures of our life today, seven years later.
Do Good. Seek Peace. Go After It.
He was alive for seven days- people often make a big fuss over how God could have created the universe in seven days, but I can certainly see how whole worlds can be created in just such a time.
In 2010, I could not have imagined making it through seven minutes, much less seven years, but here we are.
Earlier this year, Gracie attended a vacation bible school where the motto was, "Do Good, Seek Peace, and Go After It".
That little phrase stuck to my heart as exactly what I've been trying to do since Rip died. My life is spent trying to be a better person, to seek out the good, in his name.
In the last couple of weeks I've seen a challenge on social media, asking people to display seven photos that represent their life. I've said time and again that our life- which is a very good life- is what it is because of Rip Harris. We would not have Gracie and Sam without him, Parke and I would not be nearly as kind to one another without him and I would not have learned to be brave without him. He changed us in all the ways we could be changed.
So here are seven pictures of our life today, seven years later.
Do Good. Seek Peace. Go After It.
Saturday, November 11, 2017
I Will Carry You
Dear Rip,
When I think of you, I think of fried chicken...and sweet tea...and Grey's Anatomy. While we existed in our little cocoon of hospital life for the most part it was just you and me, Bubba. And while that time was certainly stressful, it was also very sweet. And maybe a little unhealthy. But you were safe in my belly, Meredith Grey provided an escape from our worries and quite frankly that hospital could give the Colonel a run for his money in the chicken and tea department.
It was a little shocking then, once you were on the outside and I watched them wheel you away. Something that had literally been a part of me for all of those weeks now seemed a little bit...other. That feeling of otherness immediately washed away the minute I held you in my arms. You were once again so totally mine and a feeling came over me, as I've described before, as simply "Heaven".
When you had to leave me again, I fought so hard against the "otherness". It was the hardest thing I've ever been through, not to have you here with me. But somehow, over the seven years (seven!!!) little boy, you are with me again. There is not one thing- not one- that I do you are not a part of. Not a decision I make as a mother, as a wife, as a person who tries to leave the world a better place. That is all because I carry you inside of me. Just as I did all of those months and weeks seven years ago.
Over time I've come to realize - I will always, always carry you Rip Harris. No matter where you are.
Happy Birthday- I hope there is plenty of fried chicken and sweet tea (you are still too young for Grey's Anatomy).
Love,
Your Mama
When I think of you, I think of fried chicken...and sweet tea...and Grey's Anatomy. While we existed in our little cocoon of hospital life for the most part it was just you and me, Bubba. And while that time was certainly stressful, it was also very sweet. And maybe a little unhealthy. But you were safe in my belly, Meredith Grey provided an escape from our worries and quite frankly that hospital could give the Colonel a run for his money in the chicken and tea department.
It was a little shocking then, once you were on the outside and I watched them wheel you away. Something that had literally been a part of me for all of those weeks now seemed a little bit...other. That feeling of otherness immediately washed away the minute I held you in my arms. You were once again so totally mine and a feeling came over me, as I've described before, as simply "Heaven".
When you had to leave me again, I fought so hard against the "otherness". It was the hardest thing I've ever been through, not to have you here with me. But somehow, over the seven years (seven!!!) little boy, you are with me again. There is not one thing- not one- that I do you are not a part of. Not a decision I make as a mother, as a wife, as a person who tries to leave the world a better place. That is all because I carry you inside of me. Just as I did all of those months and weeks seven years ago.
Over time I've come to realize - I will always, always carry you Rip Harris. No matter where you are.
Happy Birthday- I hope there is plenty of fried chicken and sweet tea (you are still too young for Grey's Anatomy).
Love,
Your Mama
Thursday, August 17, 2017
The Plan
Dear Gracie,
Last night, while I was giving you a bath, you asked me in a very small voice what I thought you would be doing on your first day of kindergarten.
Your question took me a little bit by surprise, because all day you'd been SO EXCITED about starting your new school. Bouncing around the room while meeting your teacher, not holding my hand as we walked in the class...you are so brave.
But we are very alike in this way- the unknown is very hard, isn't it baby girl? We like a plan. We like to know what we are doing in each minute of each day until someone picks us up at 2:20 pm and then we like to plan what we will have for a snack. Because, eating is something else we like to do.
And while I can, and did to the best of my abilities, fill in the gaps of what you will face on your first day of kindergarten the truth is that I don't know. And that can be a little bit scary. For mamas and for little girls.
Here is what I do know-I've been in lots of new situations and despite all of my best efforts sometimes they didn't go exactly as I planned. But you know what? They turned out okay.
For example, a teeny secret I will tell you only because you do not officially know how to read yet...Mama doesn't really know what she is doing all of the time with you and your brother. I don't always have a plan. But with a whole lot of love and a whole lot of Jesus (and your Daddy, he helps) we seem to be doing okay.
So that's the best plan I can give you for this year. Lots of love (for everyone- there is plenty to go around), lots of Jesus, and your mama and daddy.
The rest is a little unknown and that's okay. Except that someone will be there to pick you up at 2:20 and then we will have a snack. That I do know.
You are the best little girl in the world and you always will be.
Love,
Your Mama.
Last night, while I was giving you a bath, you asked me in a very small voice what I thought you would be doing on your first day of kindergarten.
Your question took me a little bit by surprise, because all day you'd been SO EXCITED about starting your new school. Bouncing around the room while meeting your teacher, not holding my hand as we walked in the class...you are so brave.
But we are very alike in this way- the unknown is very hard, isn't it baby girl? We like a plan. We like to know what we are doing in each minute of each day until someone picks us up at 2:20 pm and then we like to plan what we will have for a snack. Because, eating is something else we like to do.
And while I can, and did to the best of my abilities, fill in the gaps of what you will face on your first day of kindergarten the truth is that I don't know. And that can be a little bit scary. For mamas and for little girls.
Here is what I do know-I've been in lots of new situations and despite all of my best efforts sometimes they didn't go exactly as I planned. But you know what? They turned out okay.
For example, a teeny secret I will tell you only because you do not officially know how to read yet...Mama doesn't really know what she is doing all of the time with you and your brother. I don't always have a plan. But with a whole lot of love and a whole lot of Jesus (and your Daddy, he helps) we seem to be doing okay.
So that's the best plan I can give you for this year. Lots of love (for everyone- there is plenty to go around), lots of Jesus, and your mama and daddy.
The rest is a little unknown and that's okay. Except that someone will be there to pick you up at 2:20 and then we will have a snack. That I do know.
You are the best little girl in the world and you always will be.
Love,
Your Mama.
Thursday, August 10, 2017
The Sound of Sunshine, Part II
Gracie starts kindergarten next week. I'm fine with it...really, I am. No, I mean really I was fine with it until this morning when I dropped her off for the next to last day at Pre-K.
I got in the car and of course the song, "Sound of Sunshine", came on- the song that basically carried me through my pregnancy with this child who is somehow now GOING TO KINDERGARTEN!
I allowed myself a few nostalgic tears and then thought back to the beginning of this blog. I remembered titling a blog post "Sound of Sunshine", so I got curious and looked it up. You can find it below.
Its easy to forget to have faith sometimes- especially for someone like me who doesn't like change (this is the understatement of the century). Its nice to have a reminder.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
6-8-2011
After Rip passed away, one of my first thoughts was how much I wanted to have children. Sometime in those first grief-stricken weeks I circled a date on the calendar, April 21, 2011. It was the 111th day of the year and, as you know, the number 11 is special to me because it reminds me of Rip. I decided that was the day I would be pregnant again... and yes, I may have been slightly drugged at the time.
April 21st rolled around and I took a pregnancy test...it was negative. An emotional day got even worse when I heard a song on the radio that reminded me of Rip. It's kind of a cheesy Michael Franti song, but there is a line in it..."here i am, waiting for this storm to pass my by and that's the sound of sunshine coming down" that I hung on to during Rip's pregnancy. Now it just seemed like another kick while I was down.
But then, the whole "sound of sunshine coming down" part started to stick in my head. I came home, looked at Parke, and said "I am going to get another pregnancy test" (ever the practical one, he said, "great, grab me a Snickers").
This time a positive line started to show...and then disappeared. I was devastated.
I felt like I literally could not take one more minute of this, it was the lowest I have felt since we lost Rip. Not knowing what else to do, I got on my knees and prayed. I kid you not when I say a rainbow appeared shortly after I stood up.
The next day I received another positive test...this one stuck. I am now almost 11 weeks pregnant. To say that I am happy about it would be an understatement.
And yet...I am so scared.
Even though I truly believe this baby is a miracle, a God-given blessing, I am afraid.
So I very selfishly ask for your prayers. Being Rip's mother has taught me so many things, not the least of which is the power of having others believe for you when you are not strong enough to do it yourself.
I am trying to enjoy every day, to be grateful every day for this little bit of "sunshine" who will be so loved by her (just guessing here...but "her" feels right) family and, I believe, has a very special angel guiding her way.
I am so thankful for my family, my friends and, most especially, my children.
I got in the car and of course the song, "Sound of Sunshine", came on- the song that basically carried me through my pregnancy with this child who is somehow now GOING TO KINDERGARTEN!
I allowed myself a few nostalgic tears and then thought back to the beginning of this blog. I remembered titling a blog post "Sound of Sunshine", so I got curious and looked it up. You can find it below.
Its easy to forget to have faith sometimes- especially for someone like me who doesn't like change (this is the understatement of the century). Its nice to have a reminder.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
6-8-2011
After Rip passed away, one of my first thoughts was how much I wanted to have children. Sometime in those first grief-stricken weeks I circled a date on the calendar, April 21, 2011. It was the 111th day of the year and, as you know, the number 11 is special to me because it reminds me of Rip. I decided that was the day I would be pregnant again... and yes, I may have been slightly drugged at the time.
April 21st rolled around and I took a pregnancy test...it was negative. An emotional day got even worse when I heard a song on the radio that reminded me of Rip. It's kind of a cheesy Michael Franti song, but there is a line in it..."here i am, waiting for this storm to pass my by and that's the sound of sunshine coming down" that I hung on to during Rip's pregnancy. Now it just seemed like another kick while I was down.
But then, the whole "sound of sunshine coming down" part started to stick in my head. I came home, looked at Parke, and said "I am going to get another pregnancy test" (ever the practical one, he said, "great, grab me a Snickers").
This time a positive line started to show...and then disappeared. I was devastated.
I felt like I literally could not take one more minute of this, it was the lowest I have felt since we lost Rip. Not knowing what else to do, I got on my knees and prayed. I kid you not when I say a rainbow appeared shortly after I stood up.
The next day I received another positive test...this one stuck. I am now almost 11 weeks pregnant. To say that I am happy about it would be an understatement.
And yet...I am so scared.
Even though I truly believe this baby is a miracle, a God-given blessing, I am afraid.
So I very selfishly ask for your prayers. Being Rip's mother has taught me so many things, not the least of which is the power of having others believe for you when you are not strong enough to do it yourself.
I am trying to enjoy every day, to be grateful every day for this little bit of "sunshine" who will be so loved by her (just guessing here...but "her" feels right) family and, I believe, has a very special angel guiding her way.
I am so thankful for my family, my friends and, most especially, my children.
Thursday, July 27, 2017
My Rainbow
You know how sometimes you have that feeling of dread, and you can't quite put your finger on what's causing it. I hate that. And I've been having it a lot lately.
Things have happened to people I know and love that aren't fair. There are children who have been hurt, some who have died. Don't even get me started on the news...
So my heart has been heavy, and anxious. And maybe this makes me not a very good Christian but when everything feel out of control like this, I need a reminder that God is in control.
Yesterday was full of passing (literal) storms to accompany the mental ones, so I tossed up a prayer, suggesting maybe my old pal the rainbow would be really helpful in times like these.
I stood outside for a while, ignoring passing neighbors wondering why the h I was standing out in the rain, waiting for my sign to appear. It didn't.
And because I am borderline obsessive, what started out as a little "Hey, God, it sure would be nice if..." now became a full-on mental/spiritual breakdown. I stood outside for an hour in the drizzle until finally shuffled in with nothing but the start of a migraine to show for it.
Wiping away my tears, I started cleaning the kid's artwork up while ushering them into the bath. As they ran away I picked up the picture Gracie drew for me- a very flattering depiction of the two of us, holding hands with " I LOVE YOU", written underneath.
On the back she'd drawn a huge rainbow.
This morning I told Gracie the whole story, how I'd been praying and asked God for a rainbow and she gleefully got to the punchline before I did, knowing she'd been the one to provide it.
Sammy, quickly closing in on my (insert sarcasm here) favorite age of the three is not pleased by much these days, and asked darkly, "Why'd Dod do dat?"
Gracie said, "Because Mama needed a rainbow."
Then she paused.
"But Mama...God is listening to you even if He doesn't show you a rainbow"
And I think maybe that right there was my rainbow.
Things have happened to people I know and love that aren't fair. There are children who have been hurt, some who have died. Don't even get me started on the news...
So my heart has been heavy, and anxious. And maybe this makes me not a very good Christian but when everything feel out of control like this, I need a reminder that God is in control.
Yesterday was full of passing (literal) storms to accompany the mental ones, so I tossed up a prayer, suggesting maybe my old pal the rainbow would be really helpful in times like these.
I stood outside for a while, ignoring passing neighbors wondering why the h I was standing out in the rain, waiting for my sign to appear. It didn't.
And because I am borderline obsessive, what started out as a little "Hey, God, it sure would be nice if..." now became a full-on mental/spiritual breakdown. I stood outside for an hour in the drizzle until finally shuffled in with nothing but the start of a migraine to show for it.
Wiping away my tears, I started cleaning the kid's artwork up while ushering them into the bath. As they ran away I picked up the picture Gracie drew for me- a very flattering depiction of the two of us, holding hands with " I LOVE YOU", written underneath.
On the back she'd drawn a huge rainbow.
This morning I told Gracie the whole story, how I'd been praying and asked God for a rainbow and she gleefully got to the punchline before I did, knowing she'd been the one to provide it.
Sammy, quickly closing in on my (insert sarcasm here) favorite age of the three is not pleased by much these days, and asked darkly, "Why'd Dod do dat?"
Gracie said, "Because Mama needed a rainbow."
Then she paused.
"But Mama...God is listening to you even if He doesn't show you a rainbow"
And I think maybe that right there was my rainbow.
Saturday, May 27, 2017
Don't Add Water
There are times where I question my abilities as a mother. Bath time. Bath time is that time.
It starts with the moaning and whining about the act of actually getting IN the tub. My children bathe every night, and for the life of me I cannot understand why it is such a shock each time I ask them to follow me to the bathroom, but the howls of “Noooooooooo!!!” start immediately.
Five to ten minutes later, I’ve resorted to yelling, “Last one in is a rotten egg!”, knowing full well the rotten egg will be in full meltdown mode when he loses again.
Nonetheless the egg and his sister are at least now in the vicinity of the bathroom and clothes start coming off. Someone’s head has inevitably grown three sizes over the course of the day and a button scrape over the face results in another five minutes of over-the-top performance.
At last all bare buns are in the water. Until she, he, or both desperately need to go to the bathroom…despite repeated questioning of the same before entering the tub and only after full submersion has occurred.
Hair washing. Oooohhhhh hair washing. I remember calmly laying back in the bath while my parents washed the soap from my hair, and I’ve watched other friends unceremoniously dump water over their children to rid them of shampoo. Not my girl. All shampoo must be removed by handheld sprayer and if one DROP should enter the little snowflake’s eye vicinity there will be hell to pay.
“MAMA YOU GOT IT IN MY EYEEEESSSSSS!!!! UGHHHH!!! WHY DID YOU DO THAT???!!!” Screaming for all of the world like she is the queen herself and I just a lowly servant girl.
And I think hold the train sister. Had I talked to my parents like that, my sassy rear-end would have been whipped out of that bath so fast my head would spin.
And I know its 2017 and we are not, under any circumstances, supposed to spank our children but I also think- that child needs a spanking.
But then I think about that sassy fanny, and alllllll of the many hours I spent praying for said fanny and most of the time I try, in my imaginary friend- Calm, Reasonable Mama's- voice to tell her we don’t talk to our mother that way. Most of the time even CR Mama's had enough and an appropriate punishment is doled out.
After the water torture is over, I look hopefully at the glass of wine and book I have brought with me. I am dumb, and an apparent slow-learner. By this point sometime has found a cup of old, cold water from some container or another and dumped it on the unsuspecting bath-goer. Lots of drama ensues.
“Time to get out!”
“NOOOOOOOO!!!”
Five to ten minutes later I have wrestled two soaking wet, slippery seal-like creatures from the tub and attempted to dry them off. I am soaked. Someone slips on a puddle.
Turning to get their pajamas, both children take off running down the hall, little moons bouncing away from me at impressive speeds.
My husband, whose job it is at this time is to cook the dinner and who suddenly seems the wisest person in the world, shrugs as they bellow past and claims he cannot help because he has “meat on his hands”. I see no meat.
By the time I’ve reached them they’ve somehow turned on Pandora and are shaking booties and elbows to “Uptown Funk”. Hot damn indeed.
Switching to more appropriate programming, Thing 1 gets in her princess panties and catcalls Thing 2 as I try to maneuver his Fred Flintstone through the openings of his Pull-up. I give up on pajamas all together.
Finished at last, I leave them to their ridiculousness and drag myself back to the bathroom in search of my wine and reading.
I barely hit the door before I hear, “Mama, you pway wif us?” or “Mama, will you come in the playroom with me?"
And of course I do, and will, and always will. Because, not unlike the movie Gremlins, once you get them out of the water they are pretty darn cute.
Thursday, May 25, 2017
"Terrible" Two's
Two is hugs that involve all 30 lbs and smell faintly of strawberry yogurt, always
Two is “I lub you” and “sowwy”’s, freely given
Two is when “I” is “Me”…Me is your BIGGEST baby
Two is still falling asleep in the rocking chair every night, my lips pressed on his faintly sweaty forehead
Two is telling his sister, “It’s otay de-ah” when she gets hurt
Two is asking his teacher, “Miss Val, you lub me?” each day
Two is endless imagination, “You be a diber, Me be a tuh-tul and me is huwt”
Two is trying to eat five squeezable greek yogurts a day
Two is when everything is so ‘citing and we tan’t beliebe it!
Two is when he wants a Mickey Mouse party
Two is when he will do anything to make his sister laugh
Two is when he copies everything his daddy does
Two is when he still smells like baby sleep in the morning, and wants nothing more than to be held
Two is bottomless pit of snacks
Two is “watch me, Mama, watch me!”
Two is hair that sticks up in every direction, always
Two is stains on his shirt before we get out the front door, always
Two is soft cheeks and sweet lips
Two is still a baby
Two times two for me, and the only thing terrible about it is that it ends in three.
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