that September day
I have not forgotten. But my children weren’t even there to remember.
I realized the person on the radio was right—to my children, the stories of 9-11 will be like the stories of Pearl Harbor were to me, to my parents.
in real life
For the last issue of New Attitude Magazine, I convinced my parents to let me put my name in the pen pal ads. I wanted some “real” pen pals—”real” as in girls I’d never met before. It was such a thrill getting those first letters in the mail box. Reading the hearts of those dear…
seasons
Summer is almost over. I feel it in the crisp, cool mornings that make us pull out the sweaters and hoodies. I see it in the red-tinged leaves of our Maple tree. The summer I dreaded, anticipating the craziness of a summer schedule with three little ones under three. The same summer in which I…
a few words to my former self…
I wish I could go back and tell my 16-year-old self a few things (but would I have understood?).
I would remind myself not to judge when I don’t know every detail…
mud on memory lane
This month at YLCF we’re walking down memory lane and re-posting some articles from the print YLCF Journals. It’s been quite the walk down memory lane. And it’s been fun, even if it has give me ample opportunity to laugh at my former self when I find a bit of “mud on memory lane” like…
so glad you called
“When’s a good time to call?” Several friends have asked me the same question recently. I suppose my lack of response has answered as well as I could have. When is a good time to call a mom of little people? In the morning when she’s getting breakfast on the table and laundry in the…
beauty
They think I’m beautiful in my pink plaid pajama pants. The same ones I bought at Old Navy at least six years ago, and obviously haven’t worn in a while, due to the exclamations from my daughters over them this morning. My husband thinks I’m beautiful in the bigger-than-I’ve-ever-bought-before American Eagle jeans and a tank…
smile lines
It’s always worst on Sunday mornings. I wait until the last minute to get dressed, letting the little man who still shares our bedroom get as long of a nap as possible before we go to church (where naps are now impossible for him, unlike some of the other people who go there). I pull…
iced coffee
Four things have happened since I posted my favorite frappuccino recipe: My almost-2-year-old developed a terrible fear of loud noises, including my Cuisinart blender. I tried eliminating some dairy (mostly milk and yogurt) from my diet to help with my almost-4-month-old’s reflux symptoms. I realized I could cut my (sugary) calories a bit and start…
“I want to grow up…”
Dear Ru, Some days, I think your brain runs circles around mine. Sometimes, I’m laughing as I try to keep up. But sometimes, I’m humbled as I hear what you want to be when you grow up. Here are some of your quotables from the past few months. “I want to grow up to be…
Stepping Heavenward while Loving the Little Years
It seems like the parenting books that have the most answers are the ones about which most questions are asked. And the more I parent, the fewer answers I have. Which is, perhaps, why my two most favorite books on parenting at the moment are books of personal reflection from a mother’s heart, and not…
still
Still. “Be still.” “Peace, be still.” “Be still and know that I am God.” Still? When am I still? My hands are busy holding, doing. My mind is busy thinking, planning. My ears are busy listening, trying not to hear. But He commands me, just as He commanded the waves that day—“be still.” I step…
The End.
The End.