HomeLife
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. - Annie Dillard
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easy resolve
The quick fix. The no-hassle solution. The simple way out. Do these exist? I just want one situation in my life – one impossible situation in my life – to have an easy resolve. (I don’t even care which problem, really. Pick any of them.) Kind of like a Get out of Jail Free card in Monopoly. One easy resolve. And I just slap that orange card down and say, “there.” Resolved. Easy. Does anything work like that? 37 years of life tells me the answer. No. No, nothing works like that. Problems do not have quick fixes. Issues are not speedily mended. Solutions do not materialize out of the…
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It’s Not So Mysterious
I have three brothers. We grew up on the same dairy farm in Virginia. We had the same parents all of our lives. But despite all that we are pretty different people. We grew up the same but we grew up different. And I used to think that was so mysterious. So hard to comprehend. I kept asking the question . . . How can four kids be raised in the same environment, in the same home, by the same parents, and still be so different from one another? It’s taken me a lot of years and six children of my own to find the answer. (Or maybe not to find…
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Autopilot
Have you ever driven some route, some route so familiar, that when you reach your destination you cannot even remember the path you took to get there? You know you must have taken a right at the gas station but you do not even recall seeing the gas station? It is as if you are on autopilot. That’s me. That’s today. That’s been this week. I see that it’s Friday. I know Monday must have occurred. Clearly I went to bed four nights since then and awoke four mornings. But I don’t recall any of them. The kids are not malnourished and our math worksheets have been completed but I…
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also said out loud
Yes. People have made ludicrous statements to me. But I guess I should not judge them too harshly. Because I am guilty of letting some pretty ridiculous statements fly from my tongue more often than not. Statements such as these . . . No, I will not peel your banana right now. Because I am sitting on the toilet. No, your brother may not wear a princess dress and a princess crown to the store. Brothers cannot marry their sisters. Please stop using your camera to photograph your brother’s bare bum. Because I don’t know how to turn a shell into a light. Do not use your toothbrush to clean…
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30 seconds
Kevin just wanted thirty seconds. That’s not much. Seriously. It isn’t anything actually. 30 seconds. All this father of six asked for was thirty seconds of calm and relative quiet at our dinner table. (Is that what the soundtrack of your life sounds like too?) Anyway. 30 seconds. Kevin explains the rules in his official Dad Voice. No talking. (He allows Otto Fox an exemption based solely on his age. Solely on his age and his dashing good looks. Solely on his age, his dashing good looks and his irresistible charm.) No wiggling. No exploding. 30 seconds. That’s all. The kids blast him with a series of logical questions. “What…
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Hello Reality
5 days away from home. No meals to cook. No school to teach. I won’t lie – that was pretty great. But we knew it was a fairy tale. Not real. As we boarded our last flight to home, Kevin and I joked about crossing over from fantasy to reality. I knew it was coming. I just didn’t expect it to be such a crash landing. Approximately one hour (or the length of time it took to wash and dry one load of laundry) after arriving at our cozy home my husband and partner-in-parenting-this-mess-of-children-we-have-accumulated repacked his bag and headed north-ish with his co-workers for their annual staff retreat. That was okay.…
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There And Back Again: Or The Post In Which I Ramble On and Include Far Too Many Links
Last week me and this guy got on a jet plane. And flew to Chicago. By ourselves. (And like 150 other passengers, but I think you knew what I meant.) We were almost late for the flight because two of the three long term parking lots at the Charlotte airport were closed. But we raced into the terminal, shucked off our shoes, unloaded our overstuffed carry-ons and cleared through that x-ray business. Except when we didn’t. Kevin was watching the x-ray view of the bags pop up on the computer screen and he nudged me, “Hey – look at that bag. Somebody brought in a knife.” “What? Who would do…
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what did you learn today?
“Did you learn anything at school today?” someone recently asked my second grader. The second grader who is my student. The second grader that I taught that very day. The second grader that I hope learned something from my teaching. “No,” Scout replied. Inside, I cringed a little. (Or maybe a lot.) This isn’t the first time this has happened. And I am always anxious to step in and justify. Explain. Yes – you did, I want to offer. Remember learning about shadows? And the book you read all by yourself and the two sentences you wrote correctly and the picture you drew to go along with it? Remember history,…
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Run, Riley. Run!
That’s what the posters the kids made for Riley’s first cross country meet said. They were written in green crayon and ended with loads of exclamation points. Attending a cross country meet was a little different than attending other sporting events. There were no bleachers. The kids played in dust instead. (You would have thought we were back on the farm in the Virginia red clay.) Otto was perhaps the least excited to be out in the shadeless, hot afternoon. Yeah, I think he probably cried for the entire duration of the meet. First through the junior varsity run. Then through the boys’ run. And finally, to treat all the…
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Things You Might Not Know: A List
You might not know this but . . . I like trimming the fingernails of little babies and kids. Even if those nails are not attached to my own children’s hands. I do not have the ability to whistle. I do not care for giving baths to infants. (Their slipperiness freaks me out.) I could happily live without a television. I think every kid’s poop smells worse than my own kid’s poop. (You know you think this too.) I still like to write with a pen on actual paper. I don’t like brushing hair but I do love braiding it. For some reason I have found myself singing the theme…
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the results are in
It’s official. Three out of four Keigley kids prefer Skippy brand peanut butter over Jif. Take that, choosy moms.
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truth
Truth. Something I am learning about truth is this. Truth is still truth even if the spokesperson of that truth has sometimes neither lived nor believed that truth. Because truth doesn’t require my consent. Truth doesn’t wait for me to act upon it to become truth. You know how I am learning this? By my husband and I being in the position of having to speak the truth we have not always lived to our eldest daughter. This raising a teenager business . . . this dance of guiding and supporting, letting go and holding back . . . it’s the hardest. Give me the dirtiest diaper you can throw…
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Half Way. But Not Quite.
It has been happening all month. Ever since I learned about charity:water. Ever since I wrote about charity:water. Ever since we told our kids about charity:water. Ever since we showed the kids a video from charity:water. I am constantly noticing water. How much I drink every day. (Like way more than my eight glasses.) (And it’s always cold.) (And ice is always available.) How often I leave the tap water running while cleaning the kitchen. (It’s a bad habit for so many reasons. I got it.) How much I pour down the drain at bath time. (The kids got super dusty while playing in the dirt while attending Riley’s first…
