My Tiny House Adventure

I swear she was my friend.

I mean, she wouldn’t lead me to some unknown neighborhood with vague claims of a hotel just for a laugh, right? Perhaps twenty years of friendship with me had driven her off the deep end…..

Because clearly there was no hotel here. Did she think there was one tucked in among the slightly sketchy 1970s houses? Oh, an Airbnb, she clarifies. Now I know we’ll be staying in someone’s basement where body parts are hidden in a corner freezer….

Moving Time=Cleaning Time!

We moved into our first grown up bought house this past week!!! It was all very exciting….and exhausting…and not without a few hiccups….but we managed to get it done in one day!

With the move complete, that means I need to return to our little rental house to deep clean it before turning in the keys.

Eucharisteo: The Art of Thankfulness #251-275

Eucharisteo: to be grateful, to feel thankful, to give thanks

I don’t know about you, but most days, I don’t feel all that thankful. Sometimes I simply don’t want to feel thankful. 

So I write them down.

And count them one by one.

Eucharisteo: The Art of Thankfulness #221-250

Eucharisteo: to be grateful, to feel thankful, to give thanks

I don’t know about you, but most days, I don’t feel all that thankful. Sometimes I simply don’t want to feel thankful. 

So I write them down.

And count them one by one.

The Way of the Earth

My purpose for this blog is tell stories. Most of them are the tales of mamahood splashed with the colors of real life, but I also enjoy writing a little fiction now and again. May I share some with you once in a while? It is a baby skill that I hope to nurture and grow into something more substantial one day.

Eucharisteo: The Art of Thankfulness #201-220

Eucharisteo: to be grateful, to feel thankful, to give thanks

I don’t know about you, but most days, I don’t feel all that thankful. Sometimes I simply don’t want to feel thankful. 

So I write them down.

And count them one by one.

Act 1, Scene 2

The change is subtle, yet always shocking.

One moment, he’s a baby, crawling and squawking for milk. A perfect picture of dependence. It was only a few days ago that I gave birth to him, right?

Then one unexpected day, a step is taken. A precarious, hesitant, definitive step. And from that moment on, the little back seems straighter, stout legs grow firmer. The curtain falls on the infant, and rises to reveal the little boy in the next scene.

I Want A Perfect Life (and other lies I tell myself as I hide in the bathroom from my kids…)

My four year old spilled milk on the floor….for the third time today.

And if you even think about spouting the phrase “Don’t cry over spilled milk”, I swear I will go full southern mama on you! (it’s the only time I say “ya’ll”)

Because, come on, really the only person who deserves the right to cry over spilled milk is the mom of small children (or maybe a milk maid who carried several gallons’ worth up hill…. in three feet of snow… at night…)

Eucharisteo: The Art of Thankfulness #181- 200

Eucharisteo: to be grateful, to feel thankful, to give thanks

I don’t know about you, but most days, I don’t feel all that thankful. Sometimes I simply don’t want to feel thankful. 

So I write them down.

And count them one by one.

The Curse of “And” (or Motherhood Rant #836,283)

It’s been one of those days.

Or weeks.

You know the ones I’m talking about. The days when motherhood feels just so. Dang. Heavy. Weeks when you are overwhelmed by both the scribbled lists of tasks, and the empty lines that lie beneath them.

Pressure to check off the boxes, AND pressure to add more boxes.