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.)
Kind is Cool…er than Bullhorns
Pulling into church last week, we heard a man’s voice carrying through the parking lot. As we looked to where the sound was coming from, we saw a dad with his wife and daughter, megaphone in one hand, doomsday poster in the other. “JUDGMENT DAY IS COMING. YOU’RE GOING TO LEAVE HERE AND GO DRINK YOUR BEER AND GORGE YOURSELVES ON SPORTS, BUT GOD IS GOING TO SEPARATE THE SHEEP FROM THE GOATS. THIS CHURCH BUILDING STEALS MONEY FROM THE WIDOWS AND ORPHANS.” et cetera, et cetera. Turns out our church isn’t special – we’re just one of several megachurches that is targeted by this group. It was our week for the…uh…Judgement Day public service announcement.
America’s Funniest Home Fails
One of our favorite pastimes as a family is watching America’s Funniest Home Videos on Sunday nights. (You know, the show that is currently in it’s TWENTY-SEVENTH season. Yes. 27. Only 49 fewer seasons than Law & Order.) About 6 months ago I decided to try submitting one of our own home videos to the show. Not because the video was *that* funny, not because I was trying to win $1,000,000; simply because the thought of surprising our boys with a cameo on their favorite show sounded magical.
Learning to Unplug as a Family
Junior high is a rough time. It’s awkward, it’s pimply…you’re trying to figure out who you are and where you belong. You’re trying not to panic about your body parts that are growing and doing weird, new things. Junior high is a lot of social experimentation. Not necessarily experimenting with drugs and alcohol, more like experimenting with friendships. Learning what is kind vs. what hurts people’s feelings. Learning what traits draw others in vs. alienate the general population. Learning the difference between high-energy and just plain obnoxious. I wouldn’t wish my junior high self on my worst enemy. But. When I had a bad day in junior high – when I was super obnoxious and…
Little Little Brother
“So the other day my son, David — I mean….Davis….” – actual words that came out of my mouth Being a third child is a struggle. Being little little brother is definitely a struggle. We had a BABY vs. WILD themed birthday party last month to celebrate one full year of his surviving the suburban wild. It wasn’t until the day after his birthday that we realized he never opened his birthday present. His one, single birthday present. David sometimes gets lost in the shuffle. Even at his own birthday.
Because They’re Worth Remembering
Direct quote from Beckett, the kid who cried actual tears recently because “mom PLEASE stop dancing in the car. it’s very unsafe to dance while operating a vehicle!”: “Since I’m 5 now, can I just be one of the parents?” He is – by far – the most responsible adult in our home. He is always reminding me of the rules to ensure a safe and just home. He is also always soaking up everything around him and asking ridiculously mature and insightful questions.
Bro-thday Bash
One year and one week ago, I was miserably, hugely pregnant with our 3rd. I didn’t care when he came out or how he came out, just that he came out. So on the night of our firstborn’s 4th birthday, I didn’t even care when I started feeling signs of impending labor as I play skeeball at Chuck-e-Cheese. And I certainly didn’t care when our baby finally made his grand entrance the next day, making him and his oldest brother 4 years and 1 day apart.
30 Reasons to Celebrate our Favorite 30 Year Old
August 7, 1986: our favorite man in the world was born. 30 years ago today. What a beautiful life he has lived up until this point. I mean….he’s created 3 additional humans, among many other accomplishments. We are opposite in many ways. (Ok, every way. And then some.) I love talking. He loves silence. I love chaos. He loves order. I love spending time with 82,305,342 of my closest friends. He loves spending time with our family of 5. I love big parties. He loves when people forget it’s his birthday. Unfortunately he’s out of luck this birthday because THIRTY. It deserves extra attention.
