Moving Day’s Eve
Moving day 1999: My family was moving from Nebraska to Tennessee and, on the day we were to depart, my oldest and favorite chinchilla decided to bite the dust. (More like he was nibbling the dust and the moving truck driver had to take him out back and finalize the process.) 1. Yes, I had chinchillas. 3 regular, 1 inbred. 2. It was a bad moving day. Moving day 2013: I’m 6ish weeks from birthing a child, our other child is handling the chaos by sprinting through the house adding his bath trumpet to the dishes box and unpacking the bathroom towels, Taylor is working, and my mom is…
The scoop on the Instagram Direct feature
A few days ago, Instagram released an update with something called “Instagram Direct”, a way for users to send pictures privately to one person. Or a group of people. Either way, the “direct” feature gives you the option of sending photos only to specified recipients . You choose your option at the top of the screen after a photo has been uploaded and filtered. Receiving a photo looks like this: 1. Get a standard push notification from Instagram saying, “so-and-so sent you a photo.” 2. Once opened, you can like and comment on the photo as normal, difference being that it is just a conversation between you and the sender,…
Christmas: the most wonder{stress}ful time of the year!
Rule 1 of church attending: Never ever, ever, ever skip potluck day. It’s way too delicious to miss. (Can I get an amen?) A few weeks ago, some young couple friends of ours broke this rule. They skipped the brunch potluck we had during class and came straight to the worship service afterwards. I saw them across the room and walked over to give them a hard time. “Skipping, on POTLUCK DAY? What were you thinking?!” I said. My friend laughed and said, “I know…we knew it was a brunch today, but we couldn’t afford to bring anything so we just stayed home!” The part of the conversation that caught…
“Don’t slap your face with the bread.”
“I’m not gonna lie…your belly button creeps me out.” – my brother. Just one of the special moments we shared over Thanksgiving. Parent instructions. No amount of parenting books can prepare you for the random battles you’ll face with a young child. Like the yellow train needing to go before the red train. No, not THAT yellow train, the OTHER yellow one that looks identical to the one you just held up. {insert hysteria} You also have to say a lot of things out loud that you never imagined needing to specify. Like when we had to say, “Don’t slap your face with the bread.” out loud at dinner a few…
