I just can’t wait for her to stop chattering and go to sleep. But then she does, and I hate to leave her room. Her head on my shoulder, peaceful breaths landing on my ear. “You’re gonna miss this. You’re gonna want this back.”
I made a confession at Bible study tonight. I hadn’t been in a long, long, while. Months. After my sister asked me (patiently, again, because she knows I’m forgetful), I finally got around to going tonight. I was late, and left early, but just enough time for God’s word to smack me upside the head.
“The thing I struggle with most is anger. I just get so frustrated with my girls. I yell, and it’s so unattractive. If I had a hidden camera in my home, I’d be ashamed at what I …
And if all I’ve done in 30 years is learned to make the perfect biscuits, what else is there?
As I mark the beginning of my 30th year, I can’t help but feel a sense of insecurity. No, I’m not concerned about the number, but rather, the lack of competence that comes with it. I thought I’d know how to do more by now. Thought I’d feel wise and, well, grown up. But more often than not, I feel like a seventeen-year-old trapped in an ever-widening, ever-gravity pulled body. I feel both old and green, a strange combination, until I force myself to consider all the works these two hands have made. My hands, once delicate extensions of willowy arms, have shown the signs of aging more so than my face, and have a much …
I tell her she’s really fast on her bike. She’s not. But what am I, some kind of jerk?!
In our typical rush to get out the door in the morning, I got everyone ready before myself. (Which is a huge mistake, if you know the whole “air mask on a plane” theory. With both girls dressed, hair brushed, and teeth sanitized, I finally took off my own PJ’s. I threw open my closet door. No. Too dressy. I opened up my “pajama/workout clothes” drawer. Perfect. My “bigger” running shorts and matching lavender tank top. I quickly assembled my outfit and glanced at the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door.
Oh. My. Gosh. My stomach. At only 7 weeks pregnant, it’s already popping over the elastic on my shorts like a busted can …
Are there ever times when you hear your child calling you, and it takes awhile to respond? Not because you’re ignoring him/her, not because a baby is screaming in your ear, and not because you’re so tired that you’ve accidentally dozed off on the floor while playing blocks. But because you still can’t quite believe you’re a parent. “You talking to me kid?” That some great power above bestowed on you this much responsibility, this much authority. And unless your child came by way of adoption, you probably didn’t have to pass any kind of test.
It happens to me quite often. Moments that I not only shake my head and wonder why I of all people was trusted with these little creatures, but wonder how on earth I can manage to not totally screw them …
My little runner. Don’t let her cuteness fool you.
Dark pink. Bright yellow. Dark pink. Bright yellow. My eyes searched through green t-shirts, white leggings, denim shorts and purple rompers until they landed on a dark pink tank top and bright yellow sun dress. My children. I leaned back against the glass wall, and relaxed into the cushioned bench that rested on top of the shoe cubby. The play area at Chick-fil-A was packed, probably fifteen or so preschoolers and toddlers, all eager for a chance to expend some of their energy. Outdoor parks aren’t a good option at the moment, as flooding rains have turned them into mud holes and mosquito feasting grounds.
We were enjoying a lovely day, me and my girls, despite my churning stomach, waves of hot flashes and light head. These …
Almost immediately after dropping the “baby bomb” on social media, doubts ran rampant in my mind. “Was it too soon? What if I’m wrong? What if the pregnancy doesn’t stick? What if…”
Even though the bloodwork confirmed, even though my body is exhibiting ALL of the classic symptoms of early pregnancy, part of me worried that maybe it was all a farce. Some rare genetic condition that causes pregnancy hormones and no baby. Because it’s so hard to believe, even when your body has done it before, that a HUMAN BEING is growing inside you. It’s weird. Even when it’s the most natural thing in the world. And you know what they say, seeing is believing.
So I should be excited about my …