Happy Homes do exist!

You know what I'm talking about?  The first bit of summer is awesome. Staying home, sleeping in, chilling out. It's everything you want in summer.  And then after a while you start to feel just blah!?  That's usually when it's time for a summer vacation! Or at least a camping trip or visit to the local pool!  Well folks, we figured it out (Christopher and I). The last two months were a kind of summer break of sorts... And now we've hit the doldrums.  The problem is, it isn't even summer yet!  We're missing out on all the excitement of school getting out next week, because for reals it got out two months ago! It's no big deal now! And we're NOT leaving on a jet plane to Orlando, Florida like we were supposed to be! Instead we're hanging out at home. Doing chores. Feeding chickens and pigs. Trying to come up with stuff to do to fill our days. And we've already done it all.  Christopher is 12. He's been such a trooper through all...

This guy learned a little bit about dealing with grief and frustration today.  He's been begging for years to be able to raise a pig for 4-H. This year we finally let them.  This morning when he went out to feed them he found his had died. We don't know why. They said she had not been eating much yesterday, and she had some kind of sore on her leg. But, nothing conclusive.  He is a tough boy. I worried he might take it out on his siblings today, but he hasn't. They're discussing options for sharing fair money, but he doesn't like the idea too much. He said he wants either "his pig or no pig!" I feel bad for him. I really do, as much as I don't like the stinky pigs and don't like dealing with having animals. It's not fair that it had to be his that died, when both of his brothers didn't care about doing it quite as much.  I wonder if as parents we're doing it right. But I think we are. A hug. A gentle, "I'm sorry....

I'm writing a book.  This is one draft of one portion of one chapter.  I want your feedback.  Anybody who comments and tells me what they think can have a free, signed copy of the book once it's published. ;) ... .. . Years ago, when I was a new mom, I attended a class during a women’s night. The presenter talked about the importance of putting your shoes and socks on first thing when you wake up in the morning; and putting on make up and doing your hair. As I listened I remember taking note that I’d have to try better at that (all the while my subconscious was thinking, “Are you freaking kidding me? That’s never going to happen! I can barely drag myself out of bed to kiss my husband goodbye before he leaves for work, praying that the baby will keep sleeping!”) I will forever be grateful for my friend who sat next to me. She was a seasoned mother of six children, whom I admired and looked up to. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I never do that. It just matter...

Disclaimer: I do NOT have freckles. But I love them. So this Instagram filter is fun. Also, I was hiding from my demanding life for a minute.   Aw, Mother's Day. The holiday of so many emotions.  Joy. Pain. Relief. Sadness. Stress. Peace.  Maybe one of the most common feelings around Mother's Day is that of inadequacy .  We have these little humans (those of us who have been blessed with them), who offer gifts and sing our praises. And all of the talk of motherly love, sacrifice and awesomeness reminds us that maybe we're not all we're talked up to be.  Maybe it's all a mirage. We're putting on a show.  Maybe amidst their celebration of our hard work, we recognize just how crappy of a job we're really doing.  But, let's stop. And give ourselves a fair chance. After all, we did create these little humans (with help from Dad, obviously), and we carried them inside us while they grew strong enough to live on their own.  I mean, just ...

An old picture book we have, called Make Way for Ducklings , tells the story of Mr. and Mrs. Mallard. They search and search for a place to build their nest. They finally agree on a place, lay their eggs, sit on the eggs and hatch a bunch of beautiful little Ducklings.  The title of the book comes when Mr. Mallard leaves the family and plans to meet them in the public garden (one of the places that wasn't quite right for building their nest) in one week. Mrs. Mallard teaches the children many things, and by the end of the week they are ready.  In order to get to the public garden, the trail of Ducklings following behind Mrs. Mallard have to cross two busy roads. A police officer (who remembered the ducks from before) stops traffic and allows them to cross safely.  My kids adore this book. I like it too.  As we stretched our legs after a little drive to Rexburg yesterday, I told my little "ducklings" to get in line and follow me.  We walked around the...