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No Pressure, Just Pinterest
Earlier this month I signed up for NaBloPoMo with the hopes that it would spur me to write daily. Ironically enough, this month’s topic is “Pressure”. I will admit I have been writing a lot more. Unfortunately, much of it has been crap and no amount of editing could get me to hit the “publish” button. (No amount of pressure will get me to post crap, at least, not knowingly. Except for this post, perhaps – the way it is going.) Thursday – oh, I plugged away. I was really enthusiastic. And then I wasn’t. So yesterday, I was finally on a roll. And then I started to feel a little…
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At the End of the Break….Neatness Rules
At the end of a longer-than-usual Christmas break, one which we have spent a LOT more time indoors than we ever anticipated, you would expect I might be spending the next few days tidying up. But, those same overly single-minded, focused and organized traits that cause frustrations for my kids – be it math, how socks fit or the like – do have their payoffs in other ways. On the last day of the break, I went into the basement to check on things, and found THIS: I LOVE those kids. The ONLY thing out of place in the ENTIRE room was that unfolded blanket sitting on the sofa.…
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Silent Sunday
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Ten Things I Learned This Christmas
This is our first proper Christmas back in the States, and I have been looking forward to it all year. Back to our old traditions, opening boxes of decorations unseen for four years, house nearly back to sorts….and yet, nothing has really gone the way I pictured it. The house is decorated, but not quite to the degree I thought it would be. Our traditions? Some have stayed, but we are clearly in need of new ones as old ones have disappeared due to circumstances. The kids? Not so tiny any more. The Elf on the Shelf that has been so much fun in past years felt just a teeny…
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Thank goodness for Elves and great-grandfathers (dead or alive).
Two days into December, and I forget to move the elf. And it’s ok, for a change. Let me explain… The night before, shortly after putting the kids to bed, we hear sobs coming from upstairs. Listening, we determine it is Miss M, who was tired but seemingly fine just minutes before. Confused, I make my way to her bedside, and it takes a good five minutes of cajoling and soothing and shushing to get her calmed down enough to even speak. “Mommy, I don’t want to sleep alone anymore!” (This coming from the girl whose slept in her own room since birth.) I asked her why she felt this…
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Silent Sunday
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940 Saturdays
So, my son’s teacher posted this on his classroom blog a few weeks ago. Ponder this for a moment…. No, pressure, right? For the perfectionists and/or doubters out there, okay, I haven’t actually sat down to do the math, but whether or not the count is accurate (ignoring leap years and such), the point hits home. And hard. * * * * * For us, Saturdays are busy days. The “get-a-haircut/run-to-the-dry-cleaner” days. Soccer games. Paying bills. Now, this is kinda random, but I had to mention this as my brother recently got caught for not paying his mortgage on time. As a result, he’s got a ridiculously low credit score.…
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What My Grandfather Said
My grandfather was not a church-goer. He was, however, a deeply spiritual man who would say “you don’t need to go to Church to talk to God – you can talk to him anywhere”. Which was good, because Papa Dan was more than a little hard of hearing in his later years, so I’m sure those conversations were pretty loud. “Well, hello, love” was his standard greeting. He was a sentimental fellow, the type who saved birthday cards and as such, you spent twice as much time picking out his as you did anyone else’s, because he let you know that he pulled out those old cards and…
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Silent Sunday
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There May A Bit of Truth in Every Unintentional Insult, But Don’t Call Me Pregnant
I couldn’t see the speaker, but her words stopped me in my tracks. “Hey, Jenny – I didn’t know you were pregnant!!! When did that happen?” The voice came from the far side of the patio. The sun had already set as I was walking down the slope into my friend’s dark backyard to where everyone was gathered around the table, candles burning low and fire pit crackling. I squinted to see who it was as I set down my handbag on the chair brought in for me. Conversation around the table ground to a halt. I didn’t recognize the voice, or the face, which made the words harder to…
