I will not regret leaving the laundry and the dishes and the schoolwork undone on this beautiful, cool afternoon. I’ve lived here in the Deep South all my life, and these precious first few afternoons of breezy fall weather have filled me with a special joy ever since I was a little girl. This is no day for routine, no…
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So much of this motherhood gig seems to be learning to live from one now-THATS-what-I-dreamed-this-would-be-like Happily Ever Moment to the next, and not letting the incredibly messy, hard work in between make me forget them. So much of this life of mine seems to be about choosing thankfulness and contentment with what is before me. (That and asking for, needing,…
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Everybody was in a bad mood. Five hangry children milled in and around my kitchen, bumping into each other occasionally, sparking fireworks of tears and bickering. We had been quarantined in the house for the past few days with a mild stomach bug that had been oh-so-slowly moving through our family. So, add “stir-crazy” and “bored” to “hangry” and you’ll…
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We were the last family in the parking lot after an afternoon activity recently, and I was struggling (by myself) to load up my five rambuctious and/or whiny and/or hungry children into our 12-passenger van. I rolled my double stroller to the back first, and decided to just let my wiggly two-year-old climb into the van through the back doors….
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Happy St. Patrick’s Day, ya’ll! The stars have aligned and I spontaneously carved out some time this afternoon to finish this post on the saints that’s been in my drafts for a while. So…did you know that St. Patrick wasn’t actually an Irishman? He was actually born in Britain, but was captured by Irish raiders when he was sixteen and…
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I was at our neighborhood park one evening by myself last spring, with then four-month-old Aidan in a carrier on my chest and my older four children running (and swinging, and jumping) wild and free. While we were there, a beautiful young family pulled up with three children in tow, all under four, I guessed. Eventually, the sweet other momma…
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One Monday night a few months ago, I lay curled on top of my bed, still dressed, at 9 o’clock in the evening. I was done, done, done with the world for the day. A copy of Mansfield Park lay beside me where I’d tossed it onto the bed, more like a favorite teddy bear in function rather than something I really…
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I almost burst into tears as Faith and I walked in the door of my friend Wendy’s house last week. Breaking up with wonderful, understanding piano teachers is hard. I had to tell Wendy that we weren’t going to put Faith back in piano with her in the fall. “It’s not you, it’s me!” I tried to explain. The weekly drive…
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When I lived in Houston years ago, I often carpooled to monthly Opus Dei Women’s Evenings of Reflection with my friend Kathy, a mother of nine. I’ll never forget one night when Kathy and I met in the church parking lot to head downtown. As I slid into Kathy’s SUV–five minutes late–I chirped nervously, “Thanks for driving this month, Kathy!…
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