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Flying With Kids: Why You Can And Should Do It
Flying with kids. Does that fragment of a sentence send shivers down your spine? Do you get all panicky at the prospect of boarding a giant metal flying machine and flitting across time and space with your squirmy children all cooped up and contained in one small gray square of a space for hours on end? No? Good. Great. Flying with kids does not have be scary. Flying with kids means one really cool thing – NOT driving with kids. Flying means faster to the destination. Flying means no traffic stops and bathroom breaks and fast food binges. You should fly with your kids. For real. And – flying with…
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let your kids do hard things.
I am finding that it is so good to carefully place your kids in situations where something difficult is asked of them. (Certainly life does does that for all of us in giant ways – death of grandparents and loved ones, death of family pets, divorce, moving, friendships failing, broken relationships, change of plans, disappointments and more.) But I’m talking about smaller ways. Almost in preparation – it’s like we have an opportunity to provide a dress rehearsal of sorts. When the kids and I visited the corn maze last month we were kind of lost. Not hopelessly lost and not really dangerously lost as you could always call it…
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when the hard work is in vain
He enters the room like a whirling dervish and he’s grinning my favorite grin. He has something in his hands and he absolutely cannot wait for me to see what it is. My boy is holding a creation of his own design. A perfectly rounded Lego bridge born of imagination and trail and error. With genuine and joyful pride, Bergen’s hand is outstretched toward me and he sighs/breathes/says, “Look”. And I look. I open my mouth to offer my sincere awe and praise, I barely get the words to the very tip of my tongue, when his whirling is irrepressible. He spins. The treasure is accidentally launched from his grasp.…
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a purchase about another purchase: Noonday Trunk Show
Here’s something I like: Let me introduce you to him. He’s called The Rustic Tote. Isn’t he lovely? He’s just a wide bag, classic and hand crafted and durable and purposeful, yet beautiful in his leathery uniqueness. Do you know where he needs to be? He needs to be slung across my shoulder and filled with my stuff. (Okay, friends. Need. I get it. There is no need here. This rustic leather tote and me – we don’t need to be friends. But we want to be. I’m telling you. We really want to be.) The means by which I hope to acquire the lifetime companionship of said leather rustic…
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Five Finds Friday (two)
Is it seriously already Friday? Because that went by fast – didn’t it? Let’s just be real, friends. I love ideas. But the follow through? I love it so much less. However. Today I will follow through. I will. So — with as much follow through as I can muster —- it’s time for Five Finds Friday. FUNNY My name has been misspelled so many times in so many ways. Lacie. Lacy. Lacee. Okay. Maybe just so many times in three ways. But last week I found a whole new misspelling for my first name. (Which was also my mother’s middle name and my grandmother’s maiden name.) FASHIONABLE I just…
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there is no time machine
Being at Allume a few weekends ago, being there around so many women, their conversations were peppered with what is true in their lives. Words like “And then I discussed this with my husband…” or “My husband told me I should …..” “And that’s when my husband looked and at me and suggested …” And I don’t know these people. I don’t know their stories. I don’t know if this is their sixteenth husband – or their first – I don’t know if they are truthful women or liars. I don’t know. It doesn’t even matter. But, if I am being honest, it hurt to hear all that talk. It…
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what started as liner notes from a sermon but turned into thoughts on dying well and a tribute to my momma, who, in fact, did just that
Death. It is the absolute only guarantee in our lives. And that sounds morbid to some. But it’s also true. Last Sunday’s sermon centered on dying well. And the idea that the ability to die well is a direct result of having lived well. Immediately I started writing around the margins of my notes. (It’s funny how you can sometimes hear your own sermon while everyone in the room is hearing another one.) When I think of death, there’s just this one person I think of. Of course. My mother. My momma. A woman who suffered so well. Which is a terribly odd and kind of painful statement to make.…
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Wild in the Hollow: A Book Review
I both began and completed the memoir Wild in the Hollow during the same week. Yeah. That timeline right there probably says plenty already. (I can sense a headline from the mock news at The Onion —- Homeschooling Mother of Six Finishes a Non-Fiction Book in Under Four Days – And It Wasn’t an Audio Version.) Amber Haines was a speaker at, yes – you guessed it – Allume. Her talk was scheduled during one of the lunches and right there on our tables, beside that sweet tea, was one copy of her memoir – Wild in the Hollow – for each of us. Of all the novels (and the stack was high)…
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Five Finds Friday. (one)
When I finally got over myself at that writing conference a few weekends ago, I met a handful of fun and interesting women. Two of the ladies (Women? Girls? People? What do we want to be called anyways?) who I enjoyed getting to know the most were probably both young enough to be my daughters. (Dude. I am feeling so old lately. Maybe it’s the wrinkles. Or the steady exhaustion. The insomnia. Or the fact that the cashier at Trader Joe’s last week told me I reminded him of his mother. OF HIS MOTHER!) At any rate – I sat down at a table with Taylor and Holly and we…
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direction.
You mustn’t wish for another life. You mustn’t want to be somebody else. What you must do is this: “Rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing. In everything give thanks.” I am not all the way capable of so much, but those are the right instructions. — Wendell Berry
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Field Trip: School on the Trail
Last week I studied the weather forecast. I saw the glorious autumn days we would potentially be allowed to enjoy and the threat of the cold and the rain-filled days just on the edge of the horizon. I knew I had to get to the sunshine while there was sunshine to get to. Whilst the children were sleeping snug in their beds (or my bed, you know, whichever, it’s all the same any more) I wrote out a little invitation for them each. “You are invited on an adventure,” the note read. “Pack your water bottle, your notebook, a novel, your Life of Fred math book, colored pencils and grab…
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Spend a Day in Flat Rock, North Carolina
(This post originally appeared on Kidding Around Greenville’s website.) I love the town of Flat Rock every time of year, but Flat Rock in the fall is just about the best. If you have a day to spend during this autumn season, you should choose to spend it in the mountains of North Carolina. _____________________ Flat Rock, North Carolina. It’s smaller than an amusement park, but it’s loads more fun. Just over the mountain, a short drive north of Travelers Rest, it’s an easy, beautiful drive. It’s a perfect place to spend a day – especially in the fall. First Stop: Flat Rock Village Bakery Opens at 7 a.m. Buy a scone, a muffin or…
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this stuff really happens at our house.
Ryder is still under house arrest after his surgery. House arrest for this giant puppy involves leash walking exclusively for every bathroom break. We’ve got a decent little system of sharing the load between the kids and I and the friendly fur face is progressing nicely and honestly such a happy dog despite his kennel and his steel plate. However. Because this is real life and not a comic strip (But that would be funny – right? Think Calvin & Hobbes meets Family Circus meets one of those serious ones that no one ever actually reads.) sometimes the trips outside can get a little rowdy. Ryder is still a puppy…
