idontbelieveingrammar

One last recycled piece.... And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” Matthew 3: 17 (NIV) I have a reputation as the over-the-top birthday party girl. Last year, my son turned two, and we had a petting zoo, crafts, face painting, Chik-fil-a, and of course ice cream. I know that I should simplify, and I feel guilty about not, but I have given in. I love it. I love making a huge deal out of his big day. I don’t mind blowing my budget or even decorating fifty cupcakes. I have already started planning for next year’s party, and it is only nine months away. We make a pretty big deal out of Christ’s birthday too. Stores start putting out decorations right after Halloween. We blow our budgets, we decorate, we send out cards, we cook, we shop, and we overbook our calendars. Sometimes I worry that all the presents and commercialization has cheapened this holiday. That we are so busy that we forget that it is indeed a birth we are celebratin...

This morning was kind of cold and Shaun was already gone when the kids woke up. They both found their way into my bed and under my covers. I’d say we were snuggling but Owen and Tess were mostly just poking each other, kicking me and asking me to get up and make cinnamon rolls and turn on cartoons. I tried pretending to be asleep. They didn’t fall for it. I tried stealing my covers back. They decided to be on the same team for once and pulled harder. And I knew it was time to get up and get breakfast and shower and all of those other things I needed to do before church. But first. I squished Tessie and told her I loved her. She gave me a slobbery kiss on the cheek, told me she “lubbed” me. Looked at me sweetly and asked for a cookie with about a 10 syllable please tacked on to the end. Becuase she knows I am sucker for that kind of cuteness. Then Owen. I gave him a good squeeze and told him quietly that I loved him the best (and yes, I tell Tess that too). And he just ...

I’m not sure when exactly this started to happen, but it feels like it was just Christmas or Easter or some season that I have already done before. And writing about it makes me feel a little tapped out. Like I am just on repeat. Posting the same old posts (well partly because I am). And the seasons are getting away from me. Slipping by faster and faster, hardly before I can get my tree up it is time to take it down. And I wonder if it even matters at all. To do the same show every year. The same parties. The same extra 10 pounds and buying the same presents that I really can’t afford. And church is a little bit on repeat too. We sing the same songs and talk about the same teenage girl and the story we have all heard hundreds of times.  And of course, It matters to my 5 year old who checks the advent calendar every day. And tells me that there are only 2 more days til Christmas because there are only two more links left on the chain he made at school. Like ripping off paper...

Another recycled post. the topic was happiness and the original title was "pursue something else" but it isn't such bad reminder about where our joy should come from. Not presents or lights or even homemade cookies....although I do really like cookies. Americans like the idea of happy. of pursuing happiness. It is even one of our inalienable rights at least according to the Declaration of Independence. But I think maybe we should pursue something else. like love or joy or peace or contentment. and leave happy alone. Don't read me wrong. I am neither bitter nor cynical. Even my problems are good problems. I am positive. Half full. And most days I laugh a whole lot more than I cry. And simple things like a dance party in the living room, an hour alone in Barnes and Noble, the yellow pajama pants my son picked out for me for mother's day, potstickers, clean sheets, someone surprising me with coffee, jeans fresh from the dryer, a good song on the radio, o...

Almost exactly a year ago I was on my way to a little town in West Texas for the first in a season of funerals on my husbands side of the family. Peace and funerals aren't usually words that I put in close association. But when I got home and tried to come up with something to write about peace for the second week of advent, this is what came out. And also exactly what I hope, for my friend that I wrote about in the last post who was in town to bury her grandfather. She just wrote me a long rambly email telling me about all the things that went wrong over the weekend. But that the last memory she has of her grandfather was him dancing and singing in the kitchen with his wife. Despite all the family drama and mishaps and even in the face of cancer. Peace sings and dances (and is apparently a baseball fan). (now for the recylced part) "4Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6Do not be anxious ...

....and some more recycled advent (still on hope)....from a few years ago. Forgive the repeats. Just a few years ago I gave birth to a son. I took a packed bag, received an epidural, made a mix cd, and I think the hospital even had cable…..although I never thought to turn it on. I had multiple doctors, nurses, pillows and morphine ( lots of morphine). All my friends and family showed up. A few friends even waited all night (literally!) behind closed doors for that first cry. Afterwards I received flowers, presents, 19 staples, ice chips and of course a beautiful little boy swaddled tightly in his hospital blanket. Mary, was just a scared teenager out back in the barn. No epidural or even clean towels. I love these humble beginnings. This is the Christ child. God could have orchestrated his appearance on Earth anyway He wanted. He could have been beamed down like an episode of Star Trek. He could have immediately sat on a throne. Or He could have at least reserved a room for him in...

I have a confession. The Christmas decorations that came out before Halloween kind of pissed me off. And I like Christmas. And I have little kids that I want to make it special for. Which would require me to be excited and intentional and probably bake things. I kept thinking I'd be more into it after Thanksgiving. But. Still not so much. I did get Shaun to lug the tree out of the shed. But we haven't decorated it yet. Despite my son's begging. Friday night I took my kids and nieces and nephew to look at lights. And was mostly tired and full and ready for bed. Although I did manage to spin under my favorite big tree of lights until I was dizzy. Like I do every year. I even did a little Christmas shopping today. But mostly I was trying to get it over with. Toys R Us doesn't exactly put me in a spirit of cheer. And to my sister who sent me home from Thanksgiving with wrapped presents. A big fat thank you and please try explaining to my 2 year old why she ...

Just a few years ago I gave birth to a son. I took a packed bag, received an epidural, made a mix cd, and I think the hospital even had cable…..although I never thought to turn it on. I had multiple doctors, nurses, pillows and morphine ( lots of morphine). All my friends and family showed up. A few friends even waited all night (literally!) behind closed doors for that first cry. Afterwards I received flowers, presents, 19 staples, ice chips and of course a beautiful little boy swaddled tightly in his hospital blanket. Mary, was just a scared teenager out back in the barn. No epidural or even clean towels. I love these humble beginnings. This is the Christ child. God could have orchestrated his appearance on Earth anyway He wanted. He could have been beamed down like an episode of Star Trek. He could have immediately sat on a throne. Or He could have at least reserved a room for him in the inn. Instead he shows up where we least expect him. Out back in the manger. Small and helpless w...