While we have yet to instate a family game night (yesterday, Scout tried to dump of box of playing cards through the heater vents, so we’ve got a ways to go over here), I’ll forever be an advocate for a good old-fashioned match of wits. Growing up, it was always Trivial Pursuit with my grandparents,
For the record, I’m not of the school of thought that life is in need of hacking. It is what it is – some days more bonkers than others – moment after moment knocking around together to create some semblance of order (or lack thereof). Life is life is life, and I’ve yet to witness
It happened when Ken was out of town. 3am, to be exact, when the toddler was in one of his weird sleep patterns, the kind where he wakes hungry and vibrant in the middle of the night, running wildly around the kitchen island, banging pots and pans, bunting golf balls, hollering nonsense after nonsense and
Hey you. I know you’re out there, bustling with everyday stuff on top of non-everyday stuff. Maybe you’ve just shut down your computer and you’re heading out the lobby for the last time in ’17. Maybe you’re headed out the door to drop the kids off at school or daycare, or maybe not at all
“Sometimes I have loved the peacefulness of an ordinary Sunday. It is like standing in a newly planted garden after a warm rain. You can feel the silent and invisible life. All it needs from you is that you take care not to trample on it.” -Marilynne Robinson
If you visit my home for more than a minute, you’ll know kids live here. There are very often random items strewn about the entryway and living spaces — plastic balls, wooden spatulas, tangible exhibits of the toddler’s current, mysterious obsession with cookware. (I cannot tell you how often I have fished my favorite oven
I fell into a bit of an impromptu travel season this month – three back-to-back trips with a weekend between. Just enough time to empty the suitcase into the laundry cycle, to re-roll and re-pack once it was refreshed. — I know two things: (1) I love this job. (2) I love this family. I
I am forever wondering if our quest for self-exploration has become burdensome, backwards. Enneagrams, Myers-Briggs – the idea of whittling down our complex personalities to a number and a few letters. Are we placing boundaries where they weren’t intended; living within confines that needn’t be there? While I love nothing better than a tidy definition