Goodbye Bikini, Hello Love.
Just last week I was sitting on a beach in Mexico with a piña colada on one side and my husband on the other. He was wearing a blue swimsuit that matched the blue of his eyes. I was wearing a green polka dot bikini that actually made me feel quite uncomfortable, being preacher’s kid who grew up wearing athletic shorts to my knees (dubbed “Lord Shorts” of course). But it was our honeymoon. You’re supposed to show skin on your honeymoon. You’re supposed to only wear skin on your honeymoon. Or something. We were so cute, he with his 4-ish pack (everyone loses a few “packs” after college), me with my toned legs and flat stomach. We were so…
Random Acts of…Something
Beckett loves going to the doctor. He also loves the act of taking medicine (which totally worked to my advantage recently when I gave him shots of 100% carrot juice every day for, like, 3 weeks straight). Any time one of his brothers is sick, he tries super hard to be sick, too. Maybe it’s the extra cuddling they get. Maybe it’s the medicine they take. Whatever it is, he wants it. So, naturally, he was oddly jealous this morning when Hutton took his antibiotics. (Antibiotics for his 4th double ear infection in 3 months, by the way.) (….if you listen closely you can hear my essential oiler friends giggle with glee at the prospect of wheeling their…
Smash and Crash, a Monster Truck Bash!
I live my life under the assumption that every stranger is one good joke away from being my best friend. I fancy myself a people collector of sorts. I also collect children, as the past 4 years has proven. When you collect both friends and children with the same fervency as you collect Beanie Babies, birthday parties can get out of control. “Hey, bae, I made the invite list for the party. Do you think 825 is too many? How big of a nugget tray would we need?” It’s oddly hard to transition from family-style, “come one come all” birthdays to “send your two year old only, please, because all of…
HutTWOn
When I was getting out of the shower a few weeks ago, Hutton pointed at where he thought my male parts should be (but clearly weren’t) and said, “Broken?” This is one of the many, many reasons I love our Hutton Smith. He makes us laugh on a minutely basis. (It’s also one of the many, many reasons mommy’s bathroom doors now stay shut.) So, anyway, this little cheeser just turned TWO. Side note: on rare occasion he’ll cheese at me like this and I think, “Thank heavens for that one time we had to shave part of your front teeth off. If you were still in your original, unaltered, God-made form, the…
“Well, Flitter.”
A week ago Sunday, my mom called with the news: Nanny has died. We knew it was coming; in fact, we were kinda praying it would happen quickly. A few months go, as her memory was betraying her more than ever, we got to FaceTime. And while she was lucid and engaged, she cybermet my son, her namesake, Davis Fielden. Several weeks later she met him in person, but by then she was pretty confused. So when mom called to tell me the news of her passing, I wasn’t surprised. But I was surprisingly sad. No matter how much you expect death, it still stinks. With Taylor at a conference for…
I Wouldn’t Use That Sink…
We’ve entered “year end close”, accountant-speak for “I won’t be home for dinner. Or breakfast. Or any dinners or breakfasts for the foreseeable future.” I mentally prepare myself for these times. I know that the witching hour will be extra hard with no reprieve on the horizon. I know the kids and I will be super tired of each other. I know any big changes in the kids’ lives will be INCREDIBLY DRAMATIC and, therefore, avoid them at all costs. But the best/worst/oddly refreshing thing about small children is that they rarely, if ever, abide by the elaborate mental life scripts you have been writing for them. We are experts at knowing what…
A Year of Fruit
As I reflect back over 2015, the first momentous occasion I think of, obviously, was the pregnancy and birth of our third child. But aside from, you know, adding another human to the mix and all, 2015 was also a great year for Team Brooks because it was the year we focused on the fruit of the Spirit. Each month we focused on a different “fruit”, plus a few bonus attributes at the end of the year. We planned activities surrounding it, prayed about it, and memorized a Bible verse to help us remember it. (Backstory found in this post.) Now that 2015 is coming to a close, I wanted to share how…
Crafternoons are for the {pinterest} birds.
A few years ago my favorite pair of earrings went missing. I couldn’t find them for weeks until, one day, I spotted the very corner of them dangling out of the toilet paper roll in the bathroom. Because children. They’re always misplacing things. I can’t be too hard on them, though, because I’ve been misplacing lots of stuff lately. Like…entire days. “Oh wow…it’s Friday already? I could’ve sworn we were on Tuesday. Wednesday at the latest.” I misplaced 3 solid days last week. Honestly can’t tell you what we did, where we went, what we wore, when we last bathed. (The more I think about it, the more I realize what a lucky…
You’re Right Up My Alley
Pre-parent-me found the phrase “date your kids” horrifying. The sentiment is sweet, the wording is creepy. Parent-me totally dates the crap out of my kids. Parent-me disappoints pre-parent-me in lots of areas, now that I think about it. Like the atrocity that is my vocal cords trying to make my infant smile. Or like the amount of times I say “silly” in a given day. What grown adult says “silly”? A parent, that’s who. What are we even talking about? Dating your children. Yes. So, Saturday, I had a surprise dinner-and-bowling date planned for Beckett. Instead of just telling him our plan, I wanted to “put an exclamation point on the memory” (a…
From My Mouth Hole to Your Ear Balls
Something I haven’t posted about recently is both my Google history and things we’ve said aloud to our children. So let’s remedy the latter because KIDS ARE CRAY. These are words that actually left our mouth holes recently: (Can you tell we have a house full of testosterone?) why is there a booger on the wall? whose booger is this? don’t put grapes between your toes. bug catchers are for bugs. please don’t put your penis in it. why is your underwear on the mantel? stop tooting in his face. we don’t toot in people’s faces. is that pancake in your ear? when is that from?? life lesson: don’t toot while you’re not wearing…
