Back in February, I wrote a post called, On Falling Back in Love with Mothering, over at Mothers of Daughters. In it, I addressed the fact that somewhere along the way, mothering had become more of a chore than a gift – that I had allowed it to become so, and that I didn’t feel
Today I visited with an older lady who felt compelled to share with me the story of her husband’s passing. I lifeguard at a pool where a lot of water walking and water aerobics take place, so there is a plethora of older folks looking for a listening ear, and I’m glad to provide it.
I remember the first time I heard them scratching – just above my head, actually, while I typed away on my little laptop in the dark basement office with chalky white walls and popcorn ceilings. I sat in our still new first home, and listened carefully. Nothing. “Maybe I’m hearing things.” Tap, tap, tap, I
It has been some months since I’ve written. Church planting, pfh…more like soul stripping. In all the best, most painful ways. Nearly one year after moving here, I find myself, our family, never more aware of either the weakness in my spirit or the power in my soul. Everything has changed, and yet everything is just
Bread & Wine by Shauna Niequist. I cannot put it down. Let me explain something to you – I am a mother of three small children. Time for sitting and reading – focused fully on words on a page – it is not possible for very many minutes in a row on very many days
I stood in the shower letting the hot water massage the back of my neck. “Why am I so tired? Like pregnant tired? But I am NOT pregnant [just so we are all VERY clear].” I fell asleep last week during not one, but two, of my all time favorite movies. I simply could not
2014 is coming to a close. Sherwin Williams asked me if I would take a survey for them regarding my recent purchase there. I agreed because they were our heroes as we painted and repainted our new to us dining room chairs. I like to tell people they rock when they do. I picked most
Lamentations 3:23 – Image Source I sat on the couch yesterday evening while, unbeknownst to me, the carrots and broccoli burned. It was a flop of a day, and I felt like a flop of a mama. At one point, the girls played outside while I folded laundry – and watched Call the Midwife. I
It’s not even 8 am and this day already feels like a hard one. There has been no tragedy. All is well in The Blackwell home. But I woke up this morning and plodded to the kitchen to turn on my coffee. I immediately collapsed on the couch and fell back asleep to the clicks
So, I’m on this quest to discover how to still be who I am – like deep down in my soul and being – and also wipe tiny hineys all day long…and not feel annoyed by it. Mostly, this feels impossible. The wiping of tiny hineys? Not my thing. Pinching them, smacking them, tickling them?