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Her profession's her religion; Her sin is her lifelessness

Mother's Day 2019 was perfectly boring. It was an overcast, eat too much after church, take a nap, and go to the library kind of afternoon and I could not have asked for anything more. Mother's Day always brings with it bittersweet memories of the two little loves that allow me to celebrate this occasion. As kids do, they are getting big. I did not get one Mother's Day gift that had a hand print on it. It was a tinge sad. Like Mother's Day, the nearing end of school also makes me wax nostalgic. How could they be so old? Am I doing all the things to make them healthy, successful and most of all happy? I have been reading and thinking a lot about Grace lately. In the context of mothering, I need a lot of it; yet, until lately I'm not sure I had a real understanding of it (or as much of an understanding as one can have of something like Grace). Anyone who really knows me knows that I am a doer, a pleaser, an achiever, and a ball of anxious worry hidden behind...
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Hello! The Phone is Ringing So I Say Hello!

I’m not sure what I expected, really. I guess I thought that when Pumpkin officially crossed the one year threshold into toddler-hood that things miraculously got easier. I had a little parenting-confidence and puffed my chest out just a little as I slowly toddled with her, grasping onto my index finger, to the doctor’s office for her one year appointment (see video for an idea of how slow slow is). I sat proudly in the “well baby” room (a place we haven’t spent much time) remembering the days I sat in that same room crying, looking frantically around for a spare diaper and praying they wouldn’t call her name before I could unhook her from her carseat (which took a long time back then) and changed her diaper. One year later here I was. We had come so far. I was proud of us and I looked at those new mothers with a little knowing pity. In all my one year of wisdom, I sat there glowing with the realization that the hard times were behind us. I didn’t have a “baby” anymore, I had a toddle...
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Salute Her When Her Birthday Comes

So, I'm a year older than last time I posted. Birthdays have always been a time of introspection for me.  I have a natural tendency to get stuck in my own head anyway.  Occasions like birthdays only make it worse. It didn't help that this year I turned 33 on the same weekend as the Inauguration and MLK day. I'm sure you're asking yourself what any of this has to do with...well, anything. Let me start with 33 - or, as my sister-in-law put it in a text to me, "the age of Jesus."  That's right, as depressing as it might seem, I keep dwelling on the fact that I'm now the age that Jesus was when he died.  33.  He died on a cross to save all mankind.  I, on the other hand, was glad my children got out the door this morning without too much unidentifiable crust on their faces. Then there is MLK, who died in his thirties for the cause of all of humanity - peace, equality, love. And then there's the Inauguration.  Now, whether you voted fo...
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