Pericope III {Home}
These homes we make are funny things. Well, they can be. I manage to squelch the fun on a regular basis but I’m working on it. I told Jeff the other night as sleep was creeping in on both of us, “I am not the mother I thought I’d be.” He managed to ask why and I simply said, “I am way too serious.” He was kind to remind me of the "great things" my “seriousness” accomplished in our home. But I know these accomplishments would be a lot more fun if I’d just loosen up in the moment. I look at pictures I snap mostly because what I saw made me grin-- on the inside. Too much to do to really take the time and let the grin turn into an actual laugh. Oh, how my kids love to see me laugh. Sunday, Brighton ran over to me with the funny papers wanting to read to me one of the cartoons. It was genuinely funny to me because it reminded him of something that happens all the time in our home~ at MY expense. I laughed fully and proceeded to cut out For Better or For Worse. He was so proud-- to have made me laugh and that I wanted to keep the cartoon. I need to do more of that~ laughing out loud.
This caused me to open the refrigerator door again. Were those pens I saw? Yep. With the ongoing pencil hunt at our house, pencils wouldn’t have surprised me as much, but pens? Someone just might get a hankering to write on the milk carton. The butter box?
And, of course, no one knows how they got there.
I’ve been doing a lot of standing at my sink lately. Our dishwasher is on the blink. How long, you ask? Oh, I’m not sure......
25 days, 12 hours and 17 minutes. 18 minutes. {I answered the phone- a wrong number.} I have proof. Here is my family dyeing eggs on the Saturday of Easter weekend~ without me~ because I was washing 2 loads of dishes.
But here is why I tell you of my time at the sink.
That’s where he sits so he is sure I can see him. Right in between the limited view. And that face says, “Why don’t you let me in?” or “Why don’t you play with me more?” or “Why did you bring me home but you just leave me out here all the time?” or “At the very least, would you just come out a minute and pet me?” Yes, that face says ALL of that. I hear him every time I spend time at the sink and he settles himself in that spot. He NEVER rests there.........unless I am standing at the sink.
I bought the children a notebook to write the things for which they are thankful. Great intentions. They do it sometimes. Julia has picked it up recently and I just got tickled reading hers.
Of course, what drew my attention were the last two words, “brother’s face” and I thought how sweet is that, her brother’s face, until I read a little more closely. “DRAWING on my brother’s face”.
I have a sweet tooth. I can appreciate a fancy dessert and even want to have it again, but I have never met a brownie I didn’t like, unless it’s overcooked and I don’t consider that a real brownie. When I make my favorite recipe- the Barefoot Contessa’s Outrageous Brownies- I always freeze a few for emergencies. I simply label them....
Everyone needs some “Yum” in their freezer.
If you are a Mom, you’ve seen this. You may never have been lucky enough to have your phone with you in order to catch the delivery on camera, but you’ve gotten one, for sure.
It’s the notorious “note under the bathroom door”. Kids have an internal tracking system for Momma and there are days it seems they cannot breathe unless you are in the room. I’ve received many things under that door- math sheets with large question marks, completed grammar worksheets, picture books with a request of reading {yes!}, sticks of gum for me paired with requests of pieces for themselves, but my favorite are these notes. This one seemed sort of desperate but I heard no yelling, no blood rushed under the door and I didn’t smell smoke. All was well. We moms have great filters for these types of things.
Now, 25 days, 13 hours and 26 minutes
So here are some of my inside grins from the last couple of months.
Not Me
This caused me to open the refrigerator door again. Were those pens I saw? Yep. With the ongoing pencil hunt at our house, pencils wouldn’t have surprised me as much, but pens? Someone just might get a hankering to write on the milk carton. The butter box?
And, of course, no one knows how they got there.
Guilt
I’ve been doing a lot of standing at my sink lately. Our dishwasher is on the blink. How long, you ask? Oh, I’m not sure......
25 days, 12 hours and 17 minutes. 18 minutes. {I answered the phone- a wrong number.} I have proof. Here is my family dyeing eggs on the Saturday of Easter weekend~ without me~ because I was washing 2 loads of dishes.
But here is why I tell you of my time at the sink.
That’s where he sits so he is sure I can see him. Right in between the limited view. And that face says, “Why don’t you let me in?” or “Why don’t you play with me more?” or “Why did you bring me home but you just leave me out here all the time?” or “At the very least, would you just come out a minute and pet me?” Yes, that face says ALL of that. I hear him every time I spend time at the sink and he settles himself in that spot. He NEVER rests there.........unless I am standing at the sink.
Thanks
I bought the children a notebook to write the things for which they are thankful. Great intentions. They do it sometimes. Julia has picked it up recently and I just got tickled reading hers.
Of course, what drew my attention were the last two words, “brother’s face” and I thought how sweet is that, her brother’s face, until I read a little more closely. “DRAWING on my brother’s face”.
Yum
I have a sweet tooth. I can appreciate a fancy dessert and even want to have it again, but I have never met a brownie I didn’t like, unless it’s overcooked and I don’t consider that a real brownie. When I make my favorite recipe- the Barefoot Contessa’s Outrageous Brownies- I always freeze a few for emergencies. I simply label them....
Everyone needs some “Yum” in their freezer.
Privacy
If you are a Mom, you’ve seen this. You may never have been lucky enough to have your phone with you in order to catch the delivery on camera, but you’ve gotten one, for sure.
It’s the notorious “note under the bathroom door”. Kids have an internal tracking system for Momma and there are days it seems they cannot breathe unless you are in the room. I’ve received many things under that door- math sheets with large question marks, completed grammar worksheets, picture books with a request of reading {yes!}, sticks of gum for me paired with requests of pieces for themselves, but my favorite are these notes. This one seemed sort of desperate but I heard no yelling, no blood rushed under the door and I didn’t smell smoke. All was well. We moms have great filters for these types of things.
Now, 25 days, 13 hours and 26 minutes
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