study in contrasts

A little further proof for the theory that children raised in the same home, according to the same rules, can turn out very differently:

There are chidlren in my house who cannot find their beds at night for all the stuff everywhere. And there are children who make their beds practically before their feet touch the floor in the morning and then send texts like this on the way to soccer practice:



God bless you, Stephen. We marked the page and put the book beside your bed.

Hard to Know What to Say

Large Child comes in the house and knows immediately that little siblings are in his room. Touching his stuff. He heads off with alacrity to catch them in the act.

Wait," I call. "Come back. Where are you going?"

"To get them out of my room. I hate when they're in my room and I'm not there."

"Hold on. How is that different from yesterday when I came out of my bathroom to find you sitting on my bed, with your snack on my nightstand, your computer in your lap and my remote in your hand and you said you didn't know I was there?"

"That was your room. It's a public access room."

"A public access room?"

"Yes. Every single one of us started out in that room. It was our room, too. We slept in that bed. We were fed and comforted in that room. So it's only natural that when we want to relax and eat and be comfortable, we go to your room. Because we've learned that it's ours. All of ours."

He's quick, that one.

How internal dialogue colors our perception*


For days (weeks maybe), Sarah Annie has been wandering around the house, touching things, and saying "Crazy mess! Crazy mess!" It was beginning to make me feel a wee bit guilty. Is there not enough calm and order in her life? Yesterday, Mike heard her say it and without hesitation, he repeated it back to her: "Christmas! That's right, it's Christmas!"

She's been saying "Christmas" to almost everything she sees. And my head was such a crazy mess I almost missed it.

How are your crazy messes? Comments open:-)

*astute insight: Colleen Mitchell