He then asked me if there will be a piano at school. Hiding a chuckle, I explained once again, that we will do school at home. His follow up question? “But where will we hang all of our things??”
Hi! I’m Rebecca, lover of Jesus, my hubby, good hot tea and great conversations! I claim a little town in western North Carolina as my home, but Texas has stolen my country-girl heart.
All in Thoughts
He then asked me if there will be a piano at school. Hiding a chuckle, I explained once again, that we will do school at home. His follow up question? “But where will we hang all of our things??”
I can be the grumpiest human, and after delving into a fiction for a brief time, I somehow emerge ready to be a kind human again.
Let’s make heaven feel nearer to those who are hurting by alleviating some of their earthly toil and making their load lighter.
It was the kind of morning that makes me want to melt into a puddle and disappear (Wicked Witch of the West style, but make it tired mom.)
From this dear little space, I’ve watched my kids jump on the trampoline, felt early morning air through the open windows while I typed by candlelight, and almost burned the house down by throwing a blanket off of my lap and over the candle when I jumped up to help a crying child.
Valentine’s Day is my favorite holiday. This is a wildly unpopular opinion.
Writing here brings me great joy, so that’s what I’m doing at this exact moment in my disaster of a kitchen while I can’t smell a thing in my tiny window before baby wails recall me to the rocking chair.
These moments are an opportunity to ask ourselves, “What do I love? What do I want? What do I think life should look like right now? How can I chase the things that bring myself and others joy?”
… and yet somehow it feels that I accomplished nothing.
Having it all isn’t great, and it is especially horrible when I find myself trying to force my family to conform to something that doesn’t work for us right now.
Inwardly, I grieve that there were no hosted parties, no play dates, no grand moments of gathered joy.
The people who are singing are wondering if they’re in tune, considering what version of the person’s name they’ll use, or bemoaning the fact that the person who started the song picked such a high starting point!
Suddenly, I was hoping that no one could hear me throwing up between the paper thin walls of a 1920’s gas station-turned-office, and I found that I really didn’t care half as much about those plans.
What I thought would be an easy 4-5 minute “yes” feels like it has turned into a 30 minute disaster.
But there’s something sweet about prepping food to collectively bring to the table and share with each other.
I was scrolling, reading, and getting lost in things without letting the person who made it know that I loved it. I started noticing people around me doing the same.
*This post was brought to you by one hand while the other was holding a nursing newborn.
It is hard to write a story that I’m still living. I think this phrase almost daily.
I cut this year’s reading goal in half…