Sassy Meatball
It’s funny that no matter how many kids you have or how close together they are, you forget certain things about certain ages. When I was a new mom with my first punkinangel, I was constantly asking my mom when babies were supposed to do things. Crawl, talk, eat with a spoon, walk, etc. Her answer was nearly always the same: “I don’t remember.” “What do you mean you don’t remember?!” I’d think, as I carefully glued the 524th identical picture of my firstborn taking a bath into his overflowing baby book. “I’ll always remember.” Spoiler: I already don’t. I didn’t have to wait long for that inflated confidence to be laughable.
Remembering our Ebenezers
All throughout the Old Testament, God’s people are always piling up rocks. Sometimes altars, sometimes landscape formations…I don’t really know. But these stones are always directly tied to an encounter with God. A moment in time when heaven meets earth in a tangible experience. They see God perform a miracle, they set up stones of remembrance. They witness God’s protection, they build an altar. They experience God’s deliverance from their enemies, they build a memorial.
Attention Deficit Mom Disorder
Yesterday I did that thing where I put a kid in time out, forgot I put him in time out, and stumbled across him much, much later. He was all, “Mommy, can I come out now?” I replied with, “Have you had enough time to think about what you did?” (Also, could you be a dear and remind me what it was? Because it’s been long enough I forgot.)
