I opened her blog and I saw it again. Another statement — an aside, really — explaining why she no longer writes about her children. It was just a quick note to her readers to help them understand the shift in her content, I think. Her babies are getting bigger, you see. And she wants to honor their stories as their own. To respect them and hold their hearts gently. To do everything in her power to protect their sacred space. ...
Abby invited a handful of teenagers to our house last weekend.
We planned to go ice skating, but the rink was closed for a recital. Then we planned to go to our little town’s First Friday Artwalk, which I thought sounded delightful, but which actually, I was told, is boring and cold. Then we planned to play board games inside our nice, warm house, but it turns out that all of the board games we own are stupid, boring, babyish, boring, and boring. (I thought Hi-Ho-Cherry-o and Disney Friends Sorry sounded like the perfect games for middle schoolers, but they assured me I’m wrong. Very wrong. Very, very wrong. Wrong.) ...
I swear by everything that is good and holy in my life; I tried, I tried.
First, I tried not to post about Chesterberry Muffins at all.
Zip it, Beth. I told myself. Silence is the better part of valor.
FYI, silence isn’t the better part of valor. That’s not even a real phrase. DISCRETION is the better part of valor. I just committed phrase butchery. Probably because I have neither silence nor discretion. ...
Despite what I said about Cai’s ranch-dressing covered toast (which I do, in fact, feed him), I can cook.
Sometimes, I can even bake.
And today I’m making cupcakes because I’m hosting a baby shower tomorrow. I’m using one of my very favorite recipes, which I’m almost positive I invented all by myself.
And, by “invented,” I mean “invented with mixes.” I have 5 kids. I’m short on time. ...
As you may know, I’m always deep and thoughtful.
I post only meaningful and well-written articles on my blog.
Like the one about my hair and what exactly I should do to it.
After reading through your suggestions, for which I emphatically thank you, I settled on a plan.
In the end, I took advice from wise, wise women like my friend, AJ, who wrote:
You have five kids. A husband. Extended family. A job. A big house. Food prep, homework, cleaning (or going away so your husband can clean), church duties, etc. Why would you want to be responsible for one more thing, especially your hair?!! Hello: shovel that off on the appropriate person, a.k.a. hair stylist. ...
Here’s the problem with our electronic world:
Abby to me: Mom, want me to make you a cupcake?
Me to Abby: Um, of course!
A few minutes later, I got to see the cupcake. On the computer screen.
A virtual cupcake.
I feel sad. So very, very sad.
Don’t you think she should have to make me a real cupcake now to make up for teasing me?
Yes, I think so, too. ...
This is it.
THE day to celebrate romance. It’s very important to keep in mind that you’ve completely failed at love if you don’t pull off Valentines’ Day in stellar fashion.
Oh, the pressure.
I believe I’ve already confessed that Greg and I don’t really “do” Valentines’ Day. I’d look up last week’s post to make sure I actually confessed that, but my laziness hit a new low this afternoon. I can’t manage all the clicking that will take. ...