For my first blog post, I’m going to get straight to the point with my number one pet peeve. The idea that a mother should “enjoy every minute of motherhood because it goes by so fast” is inherently flawed. Continue reading
Each year, November is recognized as National Adoption Awareness Month. This is an important observance for me because there are approximately 140 million children worldwide who are orphaned and in desperate need of a family. Continue reading
As I was standing in line at the bank, waiting for my turn to make a late payment on a bill I had completely forgotten about, in walked a peppy early-twenty something. Hair straightened but up in a ponytail, flawless makeup, perfectly manicured nails, wearing Nikes and comfy athletic wear probably making a payment on time. I instantly teared up. That was me 5 years ago! Continue reading
I am often asked, “How do you do it?” and “I can never do what you do” but I am here to tell you neither could I without my husband.
I start my day at 5 a.m. most days but it’s only because that’s the time he is out the door for work.
We eat a home cooked dinner most nights and have a lunch to pack the next day, but that’s only because he has already finished making dinner or has gotten a head start by the time I get home with the kids and can help. Continue reading
2:30 a.m. Toddler awakens with a strong urge to color. Toddler will remain awake and whiney until urge passes at around 3:15 a.m. Mom & Toddler pass out on couch.
6:05 a.m. Toddler uses pulling Mom’s eyelashes as an acceptable way of waking her up.
6:20 a.m. Toddler takes 20 minutes in the potty because he needs several verses of the ABC’s to feel impelled to go.
6:15 a.m. Teething Infant awakens. Continue reading
It was Saturday afternoon. My wife was at work and I’d been visiting my father. As I drove down our street, I was glad to see all three of our daughters out running around in the sunshine. But 8-year-old Sally looked awfully grim. She wore a backpack and her big sister Marie, almost 12, had her by the arm and was dragging her back toward our house.
That’s because Sally had been running away from home to escape the tyranny of her babysitter – Marie. For 5-year-old Wendy, the running-away action had merely enlivened the afternoon enough for her to turn off the TV and creep blinking out into the daylight.
As a runaway, Sally would have faced a classic dilemma. Hemmed in by several streets that she’s not allowed to cross, there was only a strip of real estate one block wide and a half-mile long in which to hide and begin her new life. But, in our little town she is better-known than the mayor.
And another thing: Her backpack was empty. Just as General Lee liked to cripple the Yankee armies by capturing their supply wagons, Marie had hoped to short-circuit Sally’s rebellion by seizing the contents of her backpack. So, piled on our front porch were Sally’s teddy bear, her flute, books, clothes and a sandwich. Her desperate little pile of stuff made me sad for her.