Dear friends, It’s been about a month since I last wrote here. I’ve been working on a presentation for my MOPS group, which I gave last Tuesday. It was really challenging–teaching our children respect. Here’s where my researching and writing lead:
Dear Friend, Today is February 9th, and we are slowly being buried alive under a thick white veil of snow. No, really. It hasn’t stopped snowing in hours and it isn’t supposed to stop any time soon. This is not a cry for help, however, because this is glorious! The boys are home and so…
I love watching little DIY videos on Facebook—the 30-second-long crafts or recipes that always look amazing and that I’m certain will look anything BUT amazing when I get around to trying them. But for once, I actually did it. And it worked!
This is an essay I wrote and read seven years ago for a Christmas Eve service at my church in Clinton, New Jersey. I come back to it every year and remember. This year I thought I would share with the blog world.
We’re preparing for Thanksgiving around our house, as many Americans are doing this week. This year the boys have really taken Thanksgiving to heart and we’ve had several interesting conversations with them. Their thoughts have been surprisingly insightful. I thought I’d share a little of what they had to say.
Mom, wife, daughter, sister, friend. That is my tag-line on Facebook. It’s not especially clever, but it’s accurate. It tells the story in a nutshell…or at least part of it. I’ve read a couple articles recently about “finding yourself” as a woman, about not losing your identity after kids. My identity? When did that…
I love family vacations and road-trips.
William, my oldest, started Kindergarten a couple weeks ago. Watching my son step bravely onto that big yellow bus and wave to me from the window, I felt Change coming. I have heard other mothers talk about how hard it was to see their kids go to school, but I wasn’t prepared for the ocean…
The age of the Anti-Girl is upon our household. The boys have decided–overnight it seems–that girls are categorically gross.
“Are you ever so excited you can’t close your eyes at night when you go to sleep?” I overheard Will ask one of his friends this question. He was rhapsodizing about the upcoming pizza and bowling party after church on Sunday. He had worked hard for the privilege of going to the party and he…
Letters From Home 