Motherhood is exhausting, and trying, and stressful…but completely beautiful.
While my children are whining,
The devil is dining,
On the sin of my impatience.
He licks his lips for just a taste
Of anger and frustration.
“Throw that book, raise your voice,
Yell a little louder! Turn your wrath
Into a rage, make me so much prouder!”
Lord, help me to rise above
These petty sins and trials.
Give me strength to bless my children
With words that come from smiles.
The smell of a dying fire swirled through the air as the sound of crickets filled the dark silent space. My left hip bone dug into the hard ground, it’s own layer of fat and the thick sleeping bag underneath providing a slim layer of comfort. Our first family camping experience would prove to be memorable, even if uncomfortable.
While my heart beat contentedly in my non-sleeping chest, full of love and gratitude, my body ached. My neck rested at an odd angle, perched atop a caramel-colored teddy bear named Frances. Pressed against my back was my sleeping preschooler, and tucked under my left arm was my sleeping toddler. Her auburn hair, badly in need of a trim, was pasted to her forehead and neck, and her hot breath hit my face with …
Experts agree that kids who read during the summer gain reading skills, while those who do not often slide backward. Keep the kiddos excited about reading with our awesome summer reading experience. They’ll enjoy fun activities, exciting games, and their own customizable dragon!
I have fond memories of participating in the BOOK IT! program as a child, even though we weren’t fortunate enough to have a Pizza Hut near us. (We made it work, but that’s our little secret.) When Pizza Hut contacted me about checking out their new summer reading site and doing a review/giveaway on my blog, I was all over it like mozzarella on a pan crust. Sorry, that was cheesy. š
While my oldest is not quite reading age, both of my girls love books. My toddler begs for book after book …
Today has been one of thoseĀ Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Days. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but only slightly. No, we haven’t experienced a major catastrophe, meltdown, illness or otherwise majorly stressful event. Rather, it’s been one of those days that wear you down, drop by drop, like a slow leak in your roof that’s hard to pinpoint. It’s hard to fix, because you can’t nail down the source.
After failing to get the mower started, and giving up on getting anything done outside (this God-forsaken Kansas wind!!!), I let the girls stay on our covered front porch to play while I went in and did dishes. I turned the AC off, and opened the storm door glass, so I could still hear them through the screen.
“Oh, hi sweetie. How was your day today? I …
This was one time I was happy to have clothes all over the floor.
Black plastic trash bags, old cardboard boxes, these packages of promise would arrive, usually during the summer, from distant cousins who were finally near on a much-anticipated vacation. “We brought Catherine some hand-me-downs. Take what you need!”
When I overheard these words exchanged between two coffee-cup holding adults, my juvenile heart would leap. Clothes. NEW clothes! You see, I never perceived we were poor or did without growing up (except that time some friends of my mom sent her home with bags of food). I always felt taken care of, though going clothes shopping at a retail store was a rarity. That was only for special occasions, or shoes. Good Lord, shoes. I think I was in a size 11 by sixth …
Sharp, tiny fingernails scraped into my neck, collar bone, and the bony spaces of my chest. My heavy, nerves-on-fire, newly lactating breasts ached to fill my daughters stomach as much as she ached to be full. Frantically, she clawed at my body, gaping mouth probing for sustenance. My milk was on the verge, not quite completely in, just needing some coaxing from the mouth of a hungry babe. Tears fell and sweat pooled as I paced with her squirming body around our living room, desperate for the crying, the screaming, the ear-piercing noise…to stop.
“Just be patient, baby,” I pleaded with her. “Mommy needs you as much as you need me. Just stay on baby. The milk will come. I promise it will. Please, baby, please.”
Time and time again, I would gently tug on her tiny …