I said, "Share!"

In a desperate attempt to keep Karoline awake while I dropped off boys at soccer practice late in the afternoon, I bought Katie and Karoline a strawberry milkshake to share. They were sitting side-by-side in the back of our full-sized van. After several peaceful moments up front with Brad Paisley, I heard, 

Karoline: MOM! Katie won't share!

Mom: Katie, I bought a big one for you both to drink. Please share with Karoline.

Katie: I really don't want to share. 

This surprises me, but communicating is difficult for me from the front of the van, so far from them and unable to see faces. I press on. 

Mom: Katie, really, you need to share with Karoline. Give her the drink.

Katie: She has the drink.

Mom: She does? (Now I'm utterly confused.)

Katie: I don't want anymore; she can have the rest.

huh?

Karoline: No, you have to have more. I'm sharing! I can't be a good friend if you don't have more. MOM, KATIE WON'T SHARE! MAKE HER SHARE! You all just won't let me be a good friend. I'm never going to get to heaven with a sister like this.

Small Successes

 

1
 
Nicholas wanted to make cinnamon rolls after watching Paula Deen make them. Despite the fact that I am allergic to flour and I knew that making dough at O'dark thirty would mean I'd itch all day long, I agreed. The yeast wasn't the perkiest and we were still making those rolls at 3:00 in the afternoon, but when we finished, they were pretty darn good. Like all things Paula Deen, they called for way too much butter, but the butter in the icing is amazing, don't skimp there.. 

    
2
Danielle and I made great progress on our book. We had a quiet afternoon to collaborate together on the phone and we're both pretty excited about the writing we've done and the finished product we hope to share with you.

3
 I got a pedicure. This might not seem like a success, but I have a problem taking time out for such things. When three different friends suggested it would be a very good idea, I took the hint. It's a very pretty pedicure and I have Princess Pink toenails. That night, I dreamt that I fell asleep in the pedicure chair and was gone for two days and when I awoke, I was at the Birthing Inn.

Not sure what that means...

What are your successes this week? This is a great exercise in holding ourselves accountable and patting ourselves on the backs. Mothering and homemaking don't have built in performance reviews and bonuses. The  internet can be a source of support and encouragement. Let's encourage one another in our small successes.I'm very late to the party, but you can still share too at Faith and Family Live!

Only Real Blackberries, Please

Are you feeling a bit tethered to technology? Me too! Read my latest column here. Please?

I Love Him Forever

I Love You Forever is a perennial favorite in this house. We have a copy my aunt gave to Michael when he was born and then we have another hardbound copy that has held up to the last 20 years of bedtimes. My children love the book. I've never really liked it. I'm not crazy about the art, but mostly, I'm sort of creeped out by the old mama who climbs into her grown son's bedroom and rocks him while he sleeps. Kinda weird, you know?

Lately, though, I think I understand her. As that baby grew into a boy and then into a man, he met the world. He made mistakes and he was hurt. He learned about what's out there, and he was hurt. He met many, many people and some of them hurt him. Nothing was ever so simple as it was when he was a baby in his mother's arms. I understand now--much better than when I was reading the book to three blond boys at bedtime--how that mother felt as her little boys grew. It's not so much that I want them to be little again. To want that would be to wish away the beautiful people they are right now, to wish away years of loving and living together. No, instead, I want to be that mama again. I want the power to gather them in my arms and soothe them as I rock. I want to shelter and protect and to be their whole world. I want to be able to ensure that their days are happy and healthy and holy. I want to love them with all my heart. And I want that to be enough.

But it's not. And I was right all along: it's utterly ridiculous to think about a mother lifting her grown child out of bed and rocking into the dark of night. We can't be their whole world forever.

We're left instead to tousle a head, to share a well-timed hug, and to listen long into the evening. We're left instead to storm heaven on their behalf and to thank the Lord for the gift they are. We're left to grow old as they grow up. We're left to love them forever and to trust that that is enough.

She cracks me up!

My little girls have a friend who lives behind us. Her name is Mallory. Yesterday she said to me, "Whenever my mom is mad at me, she calls me both my names. She says, 'MalloryDanielle!' That's how I know she's mad, because 'Danielle' has the 'yell' in it."