I threw my hands and words up to heaven like a maniac. Lord, you don’t know what it’s like! Your son was obedient! You told him to go die on a cross and he listened. I’m asking mine to stop wiping poop on the walls and he can’t even manage that! I felt stupid as soon as
I swear, y’all. You cannot even make this stuff up. Farm life… home life… they continue to just leave me speechless. Ya, speechless. Or screaming. Either one. So take a walk with me down the lane, while we sip on some (potentially spiked) iced chai teas and I’ll tell you a story… While making our
Those days. Oh man. You know those days? Those days? The days that, despite the biblical truths one knows and believes and loves, get the better of you? Y’all. I’m there. I’m theeeeere. My gang… my gang is cute as ever, aren’t they? You know what else they are? Agitating. Poopy. Fussy. Disobedience. And all-consuming. Like
Life…it’s meant to be good. I’d like to say I was better at this, but frankly, it’s a huge struggle for me. “This” meaning being okay with the mess of life, that is. Today, I begged a cleaning company to venture out to the farm to scrub only God knows what out of my showers and
Dear mother at the grocery store, I’m sorry for judging you when your child broke down at the register because you wouldn’t let him have a candy bar. I’ve now been there, tears and all. Screw those dang racks of crap they line the checkout lines with. Dear mother with the messy house, I’m sorry
Daylight Savings, as far as I’m concerned, can go back to the fiery pits from whence it once came. Because I’ve got three confused babies who have spent far too much effort trying to adjust to your danged ‘ol new schedule the past few days and I’m desperate for: 1. A strong cup of coffee 2.
For a variety of reasons, this has been a difficult post for me to write. I keep thinking the words will come easily and that I’ll be super eager to share, but in reality, they don’t. And I’m not. But I will – because I think it’s important, especially as a blogger, that we maintain