Tongue Tied

He's three today. He looks exactly like my husband. He runs around on his tip toes and with his tongue hanging out. And he's a pretty solid child, so running on tip toes doesn't make his approach any quieter. He was a very fat baby. See below. He's happy 91% of the time. He squeals and shrieks when he's happy. He winks and raises his eyebrows when he's being mischievous. He sticks his bottom lip out when he's sad. He's expressive and theatrical. He knows how to work a room. Unlike his older brother, who cannot pull off a lie to save his life, this one can manipulate. He's the one I'll definitely have my eye on when he's a teenager. He also has many accents. English is like his second language, or third perhaps. Sometimes it's tinged with Italian, such as "It's a-really coooool -a." Sometimes it sounds a bit like New Jersey or Boston, since he says his r's like " ahhh's ". He comes into my room and sits on

1. I succeeded in staying in my pajamas all day. They are red. And flannel. And men's. And comfortable. 2. When I was 11 or 12, I used to go over to our church building alone (we lived right next door, being the pastor's family and all) and stand behind the pulpit and sing my heart out. I'd always check around to make sure no one else was there first. 3. Behind just about every frame hanging in my house you will find at least one extra nail hole. That's what I get for eyeballing everything. 4. My first kiss was Seth. It was a Friday night in December after a Christmas concert. It was snowing. 5. I feel like in 2010 I learned more lessons than in all my other years of life put together. 6. Try as I might, I can't keep life from feeling too busy the older my kids get. 7. Even though I put my Christmas tree up, I feel slightly less thrilled about the holiday season than I normally am. 8. I finally feel like I have a story worth telling and I can't seem to get it wr

Just popping in to say hello. I've been pretty busy (I know, crazy right?) with two Thanksgivings in two different states, not to mention Christmas decorating, homeschooling, doctors appointments, photo shoots, and one total waste of a broadway show. At least the tickets were free. My goal today is to remain in my pajamas and read my book all day. Granted, there's no food in the house, but running to the grocery store will mean I have to pull myself out of a really heavy book. Francine Rivers makes me not want to leave my house. The children may have to eat their own hair. Sidebar: For all you Rivers fans out there, when someone asks the plot of the book you're reading, do you find the brief synopsis totally doesn't give the book justice? Like, when I say my book is about dysfunctional mother/daughter relationships, I just feel like I'm dropping the book in puke and handing it to somebody. There is just so much meat in a Rivers novel. I've had lots of ideas popp

She looked down at her trembling hand, the weapon she grasped suddenly seeming to weigh fifty pounds. She hadn’t signed up for this. It had always seemed so easy for her. She’d been at the top of her class in the academy. Honors and the approval of superiors had never been unreachable goals. She’d fostered an attitude of courage and a work ethic that others in her class admired, if not begrudgingly. She’d been bent on proving that a woman could do as well as a man in law enforcement. She believed that with all her heart. At least she had up until about thirty seconds ago. The body of the man lay crumpled on the ground not ten feet away. Blood pounded in her ears, still ringing from the sound of the shot. She noticed her breathing had become heavy and worked to control it. The effects of the adrenaline coursing through her body made her head spin. The suspect was barely out of his teens. Hardly more than a boy. In an instant, she thought of all the things she didn’t want to consider. S

“So…what do you think?” It was a simple question. One he shouldn’t have trouble answering. A simple word would have been sufficient. Yet, his mind seemed as dry as his mouth. He wished he could tell her the truth. He imagined himself opening his mouth and pouring out all the sentiments that had been residing in his heart for years. He’d always had such a struggle speaking his personal thoughts. He gazed at her, wondering if he had ever seen anything more beautiful. He didn’t know much about fabrics or varying cuts of dresses. Nor did he have any idea what it was called when her hair was pinned up like that, soft curls cascading around her face. All he knew was that she was the most stunning bride he’d ever seen. He imagined her walking down the aisle toward him today, the veil covering her sweet face as she smiled, a bouquet of yellow tulips (her favorite, he knew) in her hand. The music would fade from his hearing, the guests would disappear from his vision. All other conscious tho

I'm giving myself a kick in the pants today. Too much moping and being stressed and having such little faith in God to provide and care for us. Thing One and I have been reading Little House in the Big Woods and The Boxcar Children in school, and over and over I see how in these stories, the characters have so little, yet act so blessed in their attitudes. I could learn a thing or two from them. So today I'm counting the simple blessings, the ones that I can focus on that say to my heart, "See? You have no reason to complain. God is so good to you." 1. The promise of Heaven through Jesus Christ. We've been studying Revelation in church. All I can say is WOW. 2. A husband who loves Jesus. And loves me. 3. Two beautiful, healthy kids. 4. A roof (that no longer leaks!) over our heads. 5. The ability to write, photograph or sing to express what's in my heart. 6. An extended family of believers on both sides. 7. A church filled with warmth, love, and caring friends

It wasn’t the first time he’d been shoved into his locker door. Or found hateful notes taped to it. Or been punched. Or ridiculed. Or secluded. The force of the shove sent him flying, knocking his head into the door and making him see stars. Pain shot outward from the point of impact. He didn’t really feel the pain in his heart anymore. Everyone hated him. No one at this school seemed to care about him. Bullies abused him. Teachers sympathized, but did nothing. He had no friends. Even his parents didn’t know what to do with him now. He knew coming out would be difficult, but he never realized how devastating it would be. He rubbed the knot on the back of his head as he sat on the ground beneath his locker. Students walked by. Some glanced at him. Some didn’t. No one cared. He was beginning to lose faith in humanity. So much for everyone being equal. Suddenly, a well-manicured hand appeared in front of his face, the delicate fingers reaching out to him. He looked up to see a girl with

I saw this idea on a blog someone sent me recently and I have been waiting for weeks to try it. The idea is that every month on the tenth, you chronicle your day with ten photographs. Sort of a photo journal of my mundane, ordinary, really not that interesting day. But it's an excuse to carry my camera around all day. So, I'm sold. This is my phone, waiting for its daily 9 am text from Seth. I will miss his break/lunchbreak texts when he's in the academy. It will be weirdly silent. This is Thing Two brushing his teeth (are you excited yet?). Thing Two loves being photographed. Here he's reading me a story. Thing One managed to elude my camera today. He's not as willing of a subject as his hammy brother. Okay, so exciting news. Really. Not. I've decided I'm going to make some Christmas ornaments this year. Stop laughing. I can be crafty. I think. I have a craft box, so that must mean I'm crafty. It has gluesticks in it. And ten year old scrapbook paper t

For nearly our entire marriage, Seth has been waiting. We weren't even married a year when he decided to take the firefighter's exam for our city. I remember him studying in our little apartment. I remember him running around my sister and brother in law's neighborhood to train. I remember all the nerves about the tests. I remember the initial reservations I had. My husband? A firefighter? A paramedic? A civil servant? I admit, I wasn't sure it was a good fit for him. I wasn't sure it was a good fit for me either. But I had never seen Seth show particular interest in any specific career up to that point, so I wasn't about to stand in his way. We didn't know we'd have eight years of waiting back then. That would have been sort of depressing to know at the beginning. Admittedly, there was a lot of discouragement during those years. But God used those years to ready us both. Gradually, I had time to process all that it would mean to have a husband with a d

William held the sword tightly at an angle poised to kill. Anger coursed through his blood at the sight of the miserable man cowering before him, sweat glistening on his forehead and fear shining in his eyes. Never before had William ever considered killing a man. Never had he felt such wrath toward another human. His life had been marked by gentleness. His brothers had often teased him that there wasn’t a vengeful bone in his body. It had never bothered him that he wasn’t a man prone to fits of temper. Prudence and maturity had always been his prized characteristics. Until this filthy traitor had arrived. William had welcomed him. Shared his table with him. Allowed him to become a confidant in his family’s affairs. “William…” the coward plead. “Let’s be reasonable.” William sneered. “What would you have me reconsider, Marlow? What have you to say that could possibly lessen my anger?” Marlow inched back from the sword. “I am your friend.” “You are not my friend!” William shouted, his v

I'm searching for a song to sing this coming Sunday. Nothing like procrastination. So, yesterday as I was driving around, I started going through every song on my mp3. No big deal, there are only like 700 to sift through on there. I started noticing I'd have to stop and listen to some songs regardless of the fact that they were not what I was looking for. Here are some of my "can't skip" songs: Overcome (Desperation Band). Quite possibly one of the greatest praise songs of the decade, at least for me. Love Never Fails (Brandon Heath). This song always makes me think of my favorite fiction novel, "Redeeming Love" by Francine Rivers. How He Loves (David Crowder Band). I've heard it hundreds of times, and every time I get lost in it. I was listening to it on the way to the cemetery when we buried sweet baby Malachi. I associate it with very vivid pictures of God's overwhelming love in the midst of life shattering grief. Favorite song ever. We'll