Parenting
(An old pic but one I love by Emily Rumsey Photography) Oh do I dare even type that word out? I know everyone (almost everyone?) has passionate feelings about circumcision. But if you’d asked me when I was pregnant with our oldest (8 years ago) if we were going to circumcise him, I would have shrugged and said, yeah, probably, ask my husband? I mean, it sounds like it hurts but I’m sure they give the baby medicine and it’s for sanitary reasons or something? Clearly I had done a lot of research. Gulp. A few people in our lives mentioned that maybe researching it and the recommendations (AAP said not!) at the time were of value. After all, this is the same pregnant woman who thought she was going to waltz into a maternity ward PUSH PUSH PUSH and have a baby in an hour or so. I really hadn’t known anyone who was pregnant (well) and really hadn’t read much about it (at all) and spent the first many months throwing up so I had little energy to do anything other than complain to my mom. All this to say, two women I know and very much respect who are both media producers and certified nurse midwives are working on a documentary. It’s about making informed decisions on circumcision. I urge you to visit the site and watch the trailer. It’s a very medical approach, acknowledges some determining factors and debunks a lot of myths. Whether you’ve already…
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Hi hi hi hi hi hi hi. I do still run a blog, albeit a very neglected blog. I’m here! Hi! Late to link up with Kelly and the gang. 1 __ 1 Still doing projects and unpacking. Anyone who has moved with children, God bless you, because MAN I am still slowly unpacking parts of the house. The parts I knew needed attention right away, like sound machines and bed sheets, and legos, and toothpaste? Yeah, those are all set. But the den and my workspace and those empty frames I’m hoarding? Not so much. The construction is slowing down. No major projects but lots of putsy ones. Beautiful new bookshelves built-in, new light fixtures, caulking (and caulking and caulking), and painting. That kinda stuff. And a new fence. I love our contractor and his crew so we will miss their company when they actually flee away from us and our constant kid shrieks. 2 __ 2 Blessed is She What’s new with Blessed is She, Nell? Oh, you know, just a new wall calendar, 2018 planner, journaling Bible, Blessed Conversations, and our amazing Laura Kelly Fanucci’s Lent journal! I’ve hosted two sessions so far for Blessed Conversations. I love the format. I love the community that’s coming together to form a sisterhood with it. Basically, I love it. I also got to flee myself with the babe to go to a leadership retreat with Jenna, Beth, and MaryRuth. We came out of the weekend refreshed, thanks in large…
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I thought I would love this part of our three month camping at my sister’s beautiful house. I thought that packing 3/4 of our possessions in storage would give me that freedom we all long for. Forced minimalism while we are between houses! I’ll love it! The house will be clean because we have no toys! The shelves will look lovely and bare! I’ll change all my bad house keeping habits because otherwise we will have no clothing to wear as everyone only has so many outfits! And yet we take ourselves with us, don’t we?? What almost killed me about living with substantially fewer possessions these past few months? I know you’re dying to know. Hardy-har-har. It wasn’t the volume of our things that made my life chaotic. It’s the number of small children we have. I thought if I had fewer things, if I had a better system, if I were more disciplined and organized, then I, too, could achieve the minimalist dream. Guys, even her beautifully remodeled kitchen with white cabinets (my secret dream and not the color in our new house) got so dirty. I mean like what happened here? Who went digging for worms in the garden and then came and opened all the cupboards? Oh, my three year old did. And when six people, one in dipes, mind you, use one bathroom, there is a literal ring of dirt around the inside of the glorious soaking tub. It’s not me. It’s them. And that is okay. And the…
Read MoreThey say to give a busy person more to do because it will get done. Am I living walking breathing snorting proof of that right now? Maybe? We are doing some moderate home renovations on the new house. We are camping with my sister still (who is totally a saint, mind you!!!). We survived the marathon! AA was in the top 50! I’m so proud of him and all his hard work. We had a wonderful #bistreamretreat at the Lodge this past weekend and I’m still soaking up the wonderful moments I got to experience with the team I work with! And just because I like to be busy (?), I’m also offering a new linen dress line. These babies take a long time to make so at 2pm on Friday, I’m opening up 10 spots available in five colors and seven sizes. When they’re gone, they’re gone! I don’t think I’ll do another round before the holidays, but we’ll see how long these ones take. There will be one listing on my etsy shoppe page with ten quantities. Pick your color, size, and number and check out through etsy (accepts paypal and credit card). The colors are: G R A S S S K Y S U N O A T S F L O W E R Because I’m all outta wordsmithing! The sizes are 6-12, 12-18, 18-24, 2T, 3T, 4T. Watch the shop at 2pm central or see a reminder in my instagram feed! Thanks for the love…
Read MoreWhat an odd thing, to sit and write the story of our summer, on the brink of closing on our home and opening a new home. What a place to sit. It is a little droopy. It is a little tired. But it’s also filled with a spark of joy. I began this summer thinking it would be a summer of violin lessons, tennis playing, swimsplashing, and lots of blogging. My list of semi-drafted blog posts is ongoing in my mind. I write while I’m nursing the baby down, sometimes when I’m cleaning the dishes, or doing my physical therapy exercises. I think how I would phrase this or that. I write it all in my head. I did not think the summer would entail purging, packing, waiting, wondering, and then rejoicing. I thought it be normal. I’ve sat to write this story several times, interrupted by life, feelings, and uncertainty. I can sit to write it now because our old house has new owners waiting to sign on the dotted line, and we have a new house where we will sign on the dotted line, all inside the next two weeks. My ancestral home! The home I thought I’d be waked out of. The home we wondered which of our children would want to take over from us. The home that, despite its grand size, couldn’t actually accommodate our intergenerational living. And that was the crux of it. As my my mom’s arthritis in her hip grew worse and…
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Dear Sisters, I can call you that, right? We who walk this world together, between our hormones, lost babies, lost loves, arms full, arms by our sides, hands slipped into one another’s? Are you looking left and right and seeing what I’m seeing? A postmodern home, beautifully spartan and utterly minimalistic with lavender crown wreaths at the back door alongside a leather tote that looks ne’er tarnished? Tarnished. All my stuff is tarnished. I’m constantly reminded of the meme you see floating that ends “. . . and this is why we can’t have nice things.” A slender figure with lipstick and that one hat everyone wears on a whirlwind adventure, drinking cafe au something by herself but still has a love interest. I’m gaping at the by-her-self part of that. A woman who has an entire collection of scripture studies wherein she actually did all the pages, all of them. Her prayer life is embarrassing for the rest of us because clearly we spend more time on Netflix than Jesus. The friend who eschews social media and effortlessly harvests the wild mushrooms in her back 40, crafting and creating alongside her handsome bearded flannelled husband and well-mannered, self-motivated, unschooled children. I need social media for the bonds forged deep into the Facebook messaging evening. — These sound like hyperbole. Maybe parts of them are. But maybe it’s true. Maybe you look around and you simply don’t have what your sisters are having and you want a big serving of it. Maybe it’s not…
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