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Mand Labs Lit: A Timberdoodle Review
This is a sponsored post. Timberdoodle was kind enough to give our family this product in exchange for a review. And you know me, the opinions are always my own honest thoughts. More and more, school here at Wildwood is less hands on for me and more independent work for the kids. Especially my high school students. Many of their classes are self-directed. Like all sorts of educational matters, this is both a victory and a loss sort of situation. On the one hand, hooray for work that I don’t have to lead you through. Hooray for working out something in your own mind and with your own skills entirely.…
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five finds friday (college talk, meeting the Okee Dokee Brothers)
You guys. Every week is a BLINK. I do not know what is happening. I legitimately barely have any time to write at all these days. I’m telling myself it’s just a season. But I don’t know if that’s the truth or not. funny This week we took our first college tour. ! “They” say you are supposed to begin these college tour things in your junior year. I have a lot of feelings (I know no one is surprised) about college – and I’m not even talking about the missing my kid part. I mean about the price gouging and the expectations and the hoops we jump through. (But…
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and the truth of a marriage deceased
I do not always miss being married. Or, I suppose, to put it more precisely, I do not miss being in my marriage. When a person jokingly refers to a relationship as complicated, I get it. It’s not really a joke at all. It’s complicated. Naturally, so many words get left unsaid in a post like this, in a public declaration or a personal commentary. Of course this is all one-sided – my side. That’s precisely how this works. But it was . . . complicated. And while I was married, there were vast portions of the big picture and the whole person that I never saw and that I…
Keep Reading . . .
thoughts. on this fragile world.
love. via sour dough bread.
In Praise of Small Homes
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back of a book, on the porch
I don’t have the slow opportunity to let words marinate so much any longer. That’s not what my life is looking like in this season, at this time. But the other day I found myself on our porch with a few thoughts and no paper. I was reading a book – that thankfully I owned – so I used the back pages to record a few thoughts. These are those on-the-back-pages-of-a-book ramblings. ___________________________ It’s astonishing how deeply a comfortable breeze can penetrate my mood, make a tedious task turn into a treat. Give me ears to hear and eyes to see what was already here but just out of sight.…
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Five Finds Friday (earrings – of course. more about eggs – I’m sorry. and a film that’s beautiful.)
It’s fall. I guess. But it feels like summer here. I’m one hundred percent ready for a temperature change. funny After our beach trip and our sunburns, it seems itchy backs have been a frequent topic of discussion in our home of late. I love a good back scratching – and although the kids are definitely improving in their abilities – still, sometimes their offerings leave a little to be desired. Maybe what’s worse than an itchy back is a back that is only half scratched. You know what I mean, right? Anyway. Otto to the rescue. He made this back scratching contraption just for me. fashionable I know…
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How We Are All Connected: Navigators. Glen Eyrie. My Mother. Me. My Sons.
It’s a loose story. One that I cannot confirm the extra details to dot the i’s or cross the t’s, but it’s a true story, nonetheless. When my mother was younger, post high school I think, she was involved with a group called the Navigators. Some sort of cross between a Young Life and a Campus Crusade ministry. It’s the organization she credited with helping her to find and to know Jesus. It formed her, spiritually. Shaped her and moved her along the course that she would follow. The course that would make her the sort of mother she was. The sort of wife she was. The sort of human…
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a little grief. how the time passes.
I guess you could call it grieving. I think that’s what I am doing. Once upon a time, I had six children. And when I decided we were taking a trip, I simply put them in the car, buckled them in and drove off. I didn’t ask their opinion and sometimes they didn’t know where we were headed until I unbuckled them and let them out. Once upon a time I chose what these six children were eating for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I didn’t accept a personalized request and at a restaurant I ordered whatever it was that I wanted them to eat. Once upon a time I set…
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Juliet’s School of Possibilities: A Book Review
Expectations are infinite.Time is finite.You are always choosing.Choose well. It’s the heart of this little book. A brand new release. Non fiction. A parable. A fable. A moral of the story kind of book. Written by Laura Vanderkam, a time guru, this book is basically a story that teaches readers a lesson. Honestly, it was an impulse pick up at the library. The cover was red, it caught my eye, and it was on the new releases shelf – which meant I had to read it and return it in 14 days. Usually too risky for me. (Those pesky library fines, you know.) The idea and the concept of a…
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sacred sabbath & rest for the weary
Have you ever been so tired that you hope you catch a cold? Or acquire a fever? That you think the only way you’ll get a break is to have a breakdown? You have weekend plans or evening plans and the other person cancels and you quietly and secretly rejoice because you are in dire need of a night off? Do you have days when you want to quit your life and let someone else raise the kids, handle the sass, repair the dishwasher, do the laundry, pump the gas, help with the homework? I mean, I’m pretty certain if you are breathing, you can probably answer yes to all…
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five finds friday
This week we started back to Meadowlark Collective. We doubled in size this year – can you believe it? What an amazing honor! We also started soccer practice for one. And youth group for four. So – you know – the evenings are shifting once again, for another season. But it’s okay. I’m here for it. I signed up for this and it’s where I get to be right now. funny I’m cozy in bed. Relaxing on a quiet Sunday morning. Novel in hand, tea by the bedside. And this sweet ten year old blonde kid I know pops up onto my bed beside me. A winning smile. A tilted…
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how do you do it?
“I don’t know how you do it.” “As a single parent – how do you do it?” Yeah, I’m fairly confident the statement or the question is delivered as a compliment of sorts. And yet. It never feels like one. “You’re braver then me.” No. I’m not. My choices are different, maybe. Because they have to be. “I don’t know how you do it all.” I don’t either. Mostly, because I’m not doing it all. I’m not often even doing my tiny corner very well, in fact. But that’s not really the point here. We look at any life circumstance that isn’t ours and sometimes feel grateful. “Wow, glad I don’t…
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parenting: the slipping away
Some moments in parenting are profound. Their import is tangibly recognized in the moment. First steps. First words. First day of kindergarten. Getting braces. Having those braces removed. Moving into a college dorm. But what about all the other moments? The Afters. Those parenting moments that are big deals, but only after they happen do you begin to realize their place in your parenting timeline. I dropped the girls off at a conference last Saturday morning. And, for years, Piper has bemoaned the fact that she is unable to attend all of the cool events her older siblings get to attend. She has waited and longed for the day of being…
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five finds friday (finn turns twelve, made for this podcast and mac & cheese)
This week’s weather was so pleasant. Whether it’s right or wrong, weather affects me deeply. (Can I use the words “whether” and “weather” more often in two sentences?) It was a great week to be outside – and we sure tried to take advantage of that. Lake Jocassee and Pisgah trips this week. How perfectly lovely. funny Piper Finn turned TWELVE this week. My last little daughter – inching closer and closer to teenagerness. STOP IT ALREADY. One of our family traditions is to leave a trail of notes for the birthday kid to wake up to. Generally, the number of notes equals the age you are turning. Often, the…
