You know, it’s a wonder any of us Kansans have derrieres. We freeze them off in the winter and sweat them off in the summer. And the wind. The d*mn wind that never, ever stops blowing. To be honest, I’ve been fantasizing lately about a new home, and suburbs where young families flock, and a state other than this one. But all it took was a day like today to make me fall in love all over again (for now).
It’s not fancy, but it’s ours. And that’s all that matters.
You see, there’s a part of me that takes comfort in deprivation. A lack of choices. Too many, and I’m overwhelmed and panic-stricken. I prefer Aldi’s over the mega stores, and do most of my clothes shopping online. I need things narrowed down to the …
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
therefore I will hope in him.” Lamentations 22-24
The night air was surprisingly refreshing when I stepped barefoot onto my cold concrete porch. The light from the living room streamed through the closed storm door behind me, but I was drawn to a light beyond the overhang. Above. The moon. Brilliant and white, it pierced through the inky black sky. It was cool and calming. Clouds, narrow yet with clear definition, were drawn here and there, almost like quilt batting that’s been pulled thin. I let my toes hang off the edge of the porch, my hand on the 8-inch cedar post for …
You’ve probably seen it circulating online. The love letter Brad Pitt supposedly wrote his wife, Angelina Jolie when they were on the brink of divorce. Scores of people (mostly women) have shared it on Facebook and Twitter, often with the comment, “This is so sweet!” Here’s a snippet of the letter, which can be found in its entirety here.
You won’t believe it, but she blossomed. She became even better than before. She gained weight, was no longer nervous and she loved me even more than ever. I had no clue that she CAN love that much. And then I realized one thing: The woman is the reflection of her man. If you love her to the point of madness, she will become it.
Okay, first of all, it’s a total load …
“Let’s take pictures of the way the light is coming into the house mommy.” Just like I wouldn’t trade these hardwood floors, I wouldn’t trade my sometimes-difficult daughter for anything easier to maintain. She is worth the beauty.
I pinched a little white tablet out of the orange prescription bottle. 10 mg. What could it hurt? But what could it help? Could a man-made concoction of chemicals really help un-kink the rat’s nest of anxiety in my mind? I’d had the bottle for a week, but only now decided to start taking them. I knew it would be a commitment. This wasn’t my first rodeo with mind-fixing meds. But I’ve never been able to hang on for long. The side effects or non-effects just didn’t seem worth the benefits. So why would this time be …
My dad can’t be here to enjoy this snow. But we can. So we did.
After today, I can add “have a good cry over a piece of bacon” to my life experiences. I’ve been holding in my emotions for the past few days, willing myself to NOT make eye contact with the ghost of Christmas past. The smiling, always up to mischief face of my father, who took great delight in this time of year.
As I sat at the breakfast table with my husband, listening to the sound of some red dirt band and children’s feet running around upstairs, the dam broke. I bit into the perfectly-cooked piece of bacon, commented to my husband how it was the best from the batch yet, let the glare from the fresh fallen snow fall into my …
“Can I sit with you?”
My 4 y/o daughter sat on the bench of our dining set, eating a spaghetti lunch off a cream-colored Tupperware tray, her golden hair pulled back in a four-inch pony tail.
“Sure, mom. Sit by me.”
I sat down on the chair next to her, but not on the bench. She questioned my choice of seat.
“I don’t like getting off and on that bench, honey. Momma’s getting old,” I playfully told her.
She reached her delicate hand up to my face, and gently stroked the lines around my mouth.
“You’re not old mommy. Well, maybe a little here. But you’re not OLD.”
I smiled. My sweet, observant girl was growing up so fast.
“Mommy, why are you so big?”
I wasn’t sure what she meant. But as a woman, my initial thought was, “fat.” …