I just came across this website that I’ve had in my favorites tab forever, and I was encouraged by this article. It’s a good read for those of us who have yet to reach kindergarten…
Anyone read Beechick’s book, “The Three R’s”? I’ve got a call in to mom to see if she has it in the ol’ library, but I don’t remember seeing it…
“Here, then, at home, by no more storms distrest,
Folding laborious hands we sit, wings furled;
Here in close perfume lies the rose-leaf curled,
Here the sun stands and knows not east or west,
Here no tide runs; we have come, last and best,
From the wide zone through dizzying circles hurled,
To that still centre where the spinning world
Sleeps on its axis, to the heart of rest.”- Dorothy Sayers
This is fascinating and horrible.
I have an M.A. in History. Over my years getting that degree, I wrote hundreds of pages. My classes were small, and I think that everyone there wrote their own papers… but how do I know?
Cheating did not seem to be rampant in the government department at my undergraduate college. I heard stories that it was in other departments…
I wonder how my boys will be able to compete grade wise with students who are paying professionals to write their papers. Is this going to artificially raise the standard for them?
Well, maybe not. Most kids I know of don’t have $2,000 to pay for a paper…
Jury came back after 4 hours of deliberation. Guilty on all charges.
He’s my rock star. My tired rock star. =)
My husband invited me into his world this week.
I stopped by court on my way to the children’s museum with the little guy last week. I just wanted a glimpse at the results of the hard work he’d been doing for weeks now.
I cracked the door, baby on hip, and one of his co-workers saw me. She offered to watch Evan so I could sit and watch for a few minutes. So I did.
On Saturday, David came to me with a proposal. He wanted me to be able to watch him cross examine the defendant and see his closing argument. He said he’d be willing to call Mom and ask her to come and watch the boys so I could go.
So he did. And I went. I sat in the back of the courtroom this morning and yesterday afternoon. I watched him sitting at counsel table. I watched the reactions of jurors to his questions. I saw him truly excel at his job, and I heard his co-workers give him the praise that I certainly thought he deserved.
Court is an odd place to be. I sat on one side with agents and some of David’s co-workers, and most of the defendant’s family and friends sat on the other. I avoided eye contact with them and with juror’s at all times.
I am rooting for my husband. He’s been talking to me about this case for weeks now, and I watched the direct examination of the defendant. In my opinion, David came back and nailed him to the wall with his own lies. Looking at the faces of the jurors, I think several of them agreed. I was proud of him, pushing hard for truth and justice for those who had been stolen from.
I am glad that he asked me to enter into this experience with him. I’m glad he wanted me there to cheer him on when he’s weary and praying hard that God will lead his questioning.
It’s a little disorienting moving between this world and his world. They bear no resemblance to each other right now. His is all suits and struggle and weariness and adrenalin. Mine is all temper tantrums and storytime and weariness and poopy diapers. But I’m glad that I went for this short time, even though I wish it was more, and I sometimes wish I could enter in more fully. It makes me better able to pray for and understand what he’s dealing with, and it makes me a little part of his team.
I don’t feel sorry for the defendant. He is still quite defiant, and I think he deserves the jail time I hope he will get for his actions. I do feel for his family. It looked like some of his children might’ve been in court today. They weren’t smiling. They probably hate my husband right now. Disturbing thought, really. They didn’t choose their father… none of us do.
But I came away so thankful that my husband takes the time and effort to try and bring me into his work life… even when it isn’t convenient, and he has a million other things to be thinking about besides that. Just one more of the reasons I’m still crazy about him after all these years….
I feel fragile these days. Strained, I guess.
But I’m learning that I’m closest to God when I’m the weakest. It has been that way for years with me, really. Time to embrace it, I guess. When I am most in control, He feels the most distant, and that isn’t what I want.
I pray for Evan a lot of evenings as I rock him before bed. He can’t fully understand me, so it’s easier for me to be free with my prayers for him.
Tonight was one of those nights that I felt most pleading with God. I told Him that I just can’t do it all, and I know it. I told Him that I don’t have what it takes to bring my children to His feet. I am too full of doubts, too weak in faith, too pathetic to give my children the heritage of faith that I wish I could. I mean it; this is not empty humility trying to say the acceptable words.
I pleaded for Him to touch their hearts, to open their eyes, to draw them to Himself. I begged Him for rich grace to overcome all the ways I do and will continue to fall short as their mother.
I am not reformed. I believe that God has chosen to limit Himself in one essential way. He does not force us to choose Him. (See Matthew 23:37 for one example of this.) But I pray for His wooing of their hearts and for their acceptance of His gracious salvation… I don’t know exactly how it all works, but I know that they need Him.
He has never failed me. No, not even when I railed at Him because I thought He had. I will have the grace I need for each day… and probably no more than that. =) It will be enough.
This is why I don’t make my blog private… even though I’ve been tempted.
A gal struggling with infertility found my blog through googling the ART program of Alabama, and she told me my blog ministered to her. And so this blog continues to be searchable.
I have no clue who reads here really. I have Sitemeter, but it doesn’t tell me much. If you’re reading this through a feed reader, I have no clue who you are. I’m ok with that.
I’m a stay at home mom, a wife, a mother, a struggler, a fighter, a doubter… and if my stories help you and make you feel less alone, I’ll pull a couple of feathers out for you. Sharing our stories is a gift and a blessing to the Body of Christ and to those outside it looking in. I’m trying not to be afraid of doing that, even if it might get misunderstood….
I found a Valentine today in a pile of junk on top of the microwave. David wrote lovely things to me in it. It was good to find it, and I am grateful to God for giving me a bit of my husband’s love today in a time when I’m not seeing him much.
Ahhh, Evan. I haven’t blogged much about his milestones or changes because I just seem to forget that intention when I get to the computer. No excuses… bad mommy (slap slap).
Well, my little passionate adventurer is now 17 months old. He learned to walk a couple of weeks ago, and now he toddles quickly in circles around the house, showing us the little cars that he holds in his tiny fists, pulling necklaces on and off his head, etc., etc.
He is a talker. I don’t think I’ve ever heard another child this age talk so much… well, maybe. I had a little boy in my toddler class ages ago that talked this much, but that’s it. We’re talking full sentences, people. “That’s MY cup!” “You see it?” “It’s a excavator.” (Yes, he can say excavator, and it sounds like excavator.) He’s got easily a 100 words or more. He’s great company, and you rarely have to wonder what he’s thinking. Hmmm, sounds like someone else I know. =)
He LOVES to read books. He’ll bring books over to me, and when I plop him on my lap, he settles in a bit, squeals wildly with contented anticipation, and then waits to be entertained. He comments and points and enjoys the reading immensely. Now, if you don’t read him a book, (and it must be a book of his choosing), he will display his passionate disappointment as intensely as his passionate pleasure. He will throw himself to the floor and begin to sob stormily if he isn’t read his choice of book. “DIS BOOK! DIS BOOK!”
He’s very polite. Learned it from the older brother. He spontaneously says a tiny “thank you” when you give him something or help him with something. Watching the surprised looks on adults’ faces when he does this is fun for me. I didn’t really teach it, Seth did, but I can enjoy it. Oh, he also says “bless you” after he sneezes. =)
This is also the child that could care less if I’m within his sight. If he’s down, I have to watch him ‘cause he’s off and running. I’m really appreciating the kindness of random moms to bring him back because he’ll get pretty far before I can catch him sometimes.
He’s eaten a binder clip. Yes, a very tiny one. I’m glad I didn’t know about it until after he threw it up in the bathtub when David was giving him a bath. It wouldn’t have been funny if I hadn’t have seen the end of the adventure before I knew about the beginning of it. We’ve laughed about it many times since.
And as another example of his personality, I offer this… We went to Kohl’s last night, and we were in children’s clothes. I had him in the stroller. Well, he saw a large plastic riding car right across the aisle and started shouting “Car! Car!” and squirming to get down. Feeling indulgent, I let him down. He toddled purposefully over to the car display, grabbed a large boxed car from on top of another boxed car, wrestled it to the ground, and then proceeded to sit on top of it. Then he yelled, “Push! Push!” and seemed bewildered that it wouldn’t go anywhere. (The wheels were in a box bottom). And when I took him off, he cried lustily all the way to the cash register.
Every night when I rock him to bed, he pulls his little head off my chest and says “Jesus Loves Me.” He continues to repeat it until I sing Jesus Loves Me. He sings along. And when I pray for him as he lies in his crib, he pops his little head up and says “Amen!” after me. Every. single. night. =)
He’s so much fun. And he’s brought me a book and climbed up on my lap now, so I must depart. =)
Well, this afternoon I’m thankful that naptime is here… finally…
And I’m thankful that I’m no longer at church, holding a squirming 17 month old on my hip and dragging a screaming 3-year-old down the hall…
And I’m thankful that that time that seemed like an eternity was actually only a few minutes long…
We’re hanging in there… but it’s been hard since I’ve been back home with them. Seth really didn’t get enough sleep during the week at his Nana and Papa’s, and that made things hard there. Coming home hasn’t helped much.
We prayed together after the 4th disciplinary action of the day that I’d be patient and not angry and that he’d obey better so I didn’t have to punish him. I felt one of his tears on my hand as I was praying. And that wasn’t easy for me either.
Today was also one of the first times that he’s noticed my mood and commented on it. I had been quiet on the way home because I was sad and tired, and when we were home, and I was fixing lunch, he said, “Mommy, are you sad?” I hate that he notices that I’m sad. But I’m glad he’s paying attention to other people’s moods, I guess.
I’m driving Seth to meet his Mimi tomorrow. He’ll be staying at Mimi and Pop Pop’s for a week all by himself! His grandparents had wanted him to come for a visit, and this seemed like a good time to do that. I’m going to miss him, but I’m also glad to get a little one on one time with Evan….
I just came across this article by Joe Carter on First Things….
I think there’s a lot of truth here. The Tea Party movement is full of disgruntled conservatives that are too conservative for the current Republican party… as well as full of average Americans who decided that they are more conservative than they thought they were once Obama and the Democratic congress got to work…
I agree with him that there is an attempt on to marginalize the anger of Americans by labeling them as “Tea Party.” This frustration can’t be put into a box and placated by making the “Tea Party” into another special interest group. I don’t think it is one…
Anyway… click and enjoy.
A cold, wet, blustery day… but all is warm and well inside. Big boy reads my old children’s books with me, all salvaged from the neatly labeled boxes in Mom and Dad’s attic. The fridge is home to Mom’s homemade beef soup, lovingly packed up for us and for the tired husband, still in the midst of his travails…
Bathtime after lunch. Little green snake can “swim”, and maybe I’ll get to clean the bathroom while they play. Should I make bread or homemade brownies during nap? Bread, I think… then David will have something really good to eat his sandwiches on for another long week of trial. And I’ll lay the first fire of the season in the fireplace then… we’ll roast marshmallows with Daddy after dinner. Seth loves marshmallows…
Evan eats applesauce sprinkled with cinnamon for lunch. The noodles for box macaroni and cheese bubble behind me on the stove. Timer’s going off… time to make the big boy’s lunch…
