Once upon a time, I liked to write. So I started a blog. And I wrote for a while. Then I had babies. And I quit writing.
"I wish I still blogged," I told Eric a few nights ago. "I'd love to read it in five years. Or fifty."
So here’s a post about nothing really . . . nothing but the little boys who aren’t quite my everything, but just about. 🙂 ...continue reading
I read Psalm 90 this morning. It was a little hard to concentrate with “There’s a Hole in the Bucket” droning on and on in the background, but verse 12 made me pause.
“So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.”
That verse is so familiar. It’s been underlined in my Bible for who knows how long. But it caught me this morning.
These days I’m in feel endless, sometimes in good ways, sometimes in bad. They are overwhelming and frustrating, and at the same time they are so full of laughter and joy. Surely there will always be a naughty toddler saying so sweetly, “I yike it,” when he has something he’s not supposed to have. Surely there will always be a fat, little boy giggling every time I let water from a cup touch his lips. Surely there will never come a night that a little voice doesn’t call for me. Surely there will never come a day that I don’t write down a memory or snap a quick picture of these darling boys.
For some reason, numbering my days feels so foreign right now. ...continue reading
Day #1 of Trying to Write This Blog Post: It's evening. The boys are in bed, the to-do list is completely crossed off, the husband is pricing work, and I am just sitting down to the computer with my coffee.
"I just know as soon as I sit down, one of the boys will yell," I say to Eric. I sit down. I drink some coffee. I edit a picture.
S yells.
Day #2 of Trying to Write This Blog Post: It's afternoon. It's a short to-do list kind of day (after all, does my husband really need more shirts ironed when he still has so many hanging in the closet?). The boys are down for their naps, the ones that they almost always take at the same time, the ones where they sometimes sleep for hours. S hasn't slept much at all this morning, so he should be ready for a good, long sleep. A has already had a very abnormal morning nap, but he was extra grumpy, and he didn't sleep long, and yesterday he napped for almost two and a half hours, so I'm hopeful he'll have at least another hour in him. I grab a fresh cup of coffee and sit down at the computer.
A talks. I go tell him to lie down. He keeps talking. I drink some coffee, write some words, upload some pictures. A talks. I shush him. I write some more. I delete a picture. A talks. I finish my coffee. A is still talking.
S wakes up.
Day #3 of Trying to Write This Blog Post: It's afternoon. The laundry is half-done, the floors are half-swept, the ironing still hasn't been touched, but the boys are both napping, and I have fresh coffee.
Please don't yell, anyone.
If it wasn’t for Daddy, we never would go
Up in the mountains or out in the snow.
Mom doesn’t like driving or going about—
That’s why we need Daddy when we want to go out.
If it wasn’t for Daddy, we never would fly
Up in the air from his strong arms, so high.
Mama is great for so many things—
But she don’t got what it takes to give us our wings. ...continue reading
I don’t know if I’ve ever slept so little in my entire life. A is on a no-sleep kick at night, and getting more than a two-or-three-hour stretch of sleep is about unheard of these days.
Maybe that’s why I was thinking of how life used to be. Long ago, longer ago, and not-so-long ago. I love looking back. I love memories. The past always looks more enchanted to me than it actually was, but in thinking of it today I realized that the days really do just get better and better. I wouldn’t trade what I have now for what I had then, not for the world.
