Let's talk about the Fitbit

Shoes here, because I know you want to know;-)

I've been wearing a  Fitbit Flex wristband for a little over two weeks now. Since I've posted pictures from various walks on Instagram & Facebook and posted my stats on Twitter, I'm sensing some interest in activity trackers out there in the cyberworld.

First, please let me admit that my Fitbit purchase was entirely impulsive. I went to Colorado to visit Sally Clarkson. My roommate there was Chrystal Evans Hurst. I love her. I really, really do. She was genuine and kind and took the time to make me feel very welcome even though I knew no one else personally and they all knew each other. We had some long talks and I do cherish the memory of them. But one morning early, I was awakened by a buzzing. I couldn't hear it, really. It was more like feeling it. I'd had a restless night, coughing and tossing and turning, so it didn't take much to wake me. I stayed very still and dropped back off to sleep. When I finally awakened (probably not too much later), I remembered how much I wanted to get out of bed before the day's activities began and sit on Sally's porch and just pray and journal. I rolled over, resolute in my decision to get up and I saw that Chrystal was gone. I will admit that my first thought was, "Darn, she's got the prime spot on porch."

I took my wheezing, sneezing self up to the back deck and got comfortable. It was a glorious morning. So, of course, I had to Instagram the moment.

When I posted to Instagram, I saw that Chrystal was no where near the front porch. Instead, she had posted a gorgeous picture of the trail before her. Chrystal wasn't sitting at all; she was off on a Colorado road getting some serious steps in. When she returned, I cheered her morning ambition and asked about her Fitbit. She has a Fitbit One, which attaches to clothing and has the benefit of having a digital readout of steps right on the device. It tracks steps and sleep. It also has a silent alarm which will buzz you (and your roommate) awake. For a few weeks, Chrystal wore several different activity trackers. In my I'm-too-sick-to-really-ask-questions-but-I'm-taking-notes mode, I noted that here was someone who'd checked them all out and she decided on a Fitbit. Later in the trip, Kat Lee was talking about her Fitbit Flex. I watched her whip out her phone and cheer or lightheartedly chide half a dozen people in their efforts to get fit. All I could think of was my child who is obsessed with numbers and a little too comfy on the couch.

I returned home and ordered a Fitbit Flex using Amazon credit. It arrived just before we walked out the door for dance recital rehearsals. I set it up with my computer and the phone app and strapped it on. Away we went. Nearly 6,000 steps that first day.

My goals are the default goals: 10,000 steps, 5 miles, and 30 minutes of sustained activity. Remember, I was still sick. For the next week, I met the step goals every day but one. Some days, all I did was walk and go to bed for the rest of the day. It was sort of stupid, but I wanted to form a habit and I didn't want to wait. I also learned that the number-obsessed child might have inherited that particular quirk. I am in no way recommending my obsessive compulsive induction phase. I'm just being honest.

Betty asked on Facebook whether the Fitbit Flex has made me more intentional towards activity. I can answer that with a wholehearted yes!. After years of being pregnant or nursing, particularly the last two high risk/very low activity pregnancies, I'd developed the habit of asking someone else to "run and get." 

"My shoes are up in my closet. Will someone run and get them for me?"

"Stephen, run up and get the laundry basket and bring it down here so I can start another load? And then will you please carry this one up?"

"I'll finish loading these groceries into the car. Will you run the cart back to the store?"

When the Fitbit Flex is strapped to my wrist, I become conscious of all those little times as opportunities to seize a couple hundred more steps. And those steps add up. 

Instead of standing at the sink while spending two minutes brushing my teeth, I walk circles around my bathroom. Up to 200 steps.

I park as far from the store as possible without being ridiculous. (My young companions do not appreciate this new habit because I seem to go into the store on a sweltering afternoon and exit during a torrential downpour).

I'm quick to volunteer to be the one to go back into the restaurant to fetch the forks when we are eating outside. Only about 100 steps, but every little bit helps.

I walk to the grocery store. And then I walk home. 2,000 steps there and 2,000 steps back.

It's halftime. Let's talk a walk around the track surrounding the soccer field, girls. 700 steps (including the diversion to the Porta-Potty).

I can easily persuade the girls to take a quick walk around the library pond after the Farmers' Market. 2,000 steps.

I also know that it's 2,000 steps to the dance studio and 2,000 steps to Starbucks. I made a deal with myself never to get Starbucks unless I've walked to the store. Also, from my house, you can get a lot of different places in 2,000 steps.

Someone needs to retrieve Michael from the airport around 7:00 in the morning, just hang out in the cell phone waiting area until an international flight arrives and he clears customs? I will! But I'll park at the airport Marriott and acquaint myself with the fitness trail behind it. 8,500 steps later, I'm five minutes away when he clears customs and heads for the arrivals door.

I quickly learned that even though I was being more intentional about the incidental opportunities to walk, I was going to need to make a  commitment to a long period of sustained movement every day if this was going to yield true improvements in fitness. So, I reinstituted the Morning Walk. I loaded my iPhone with podcasts from Chrystal and from Kat--they got me into this, they might as well go along for the ride--and I walked. And walked. And walked and walked. About an hour every morning--about 8,000 steps, more or less. If you get 8,000 steps before 7:00 AM and you are intentional about finding incidental opportunities to walk. I promise you will meet that 10,000 steps goal. Really, all you need is about 6,000 steps and then just regular momlife. Those morning walks have been glorious--cool, quiet, and really very beautiful, just walking within 4 miles of my house. I vary the path daily and try to keep myself from ever becoming bored. (My husband and children are all still asleep when I walk.)

Sometimes, I have to go out again at the end of the day and add to the step total in order to meet my mileage goal.Once around the block? One thousand steps. Ten minutes of Just Dance with my little girls? 888 steps. It hasn't taken long to develop a fat mental file of how many steps it took to get where I wanted my number to be. And one night, before going to bed, I noticed I was a tenth of a mile from hitting my five mile goal. My husband jokingly asked if I was going to walk around the bedroom just so I could see the number change. I giggled at the absurdity. Then, I asked if he needed anything from downstairs, told him I was going to get water, and did a few laps around the dark middle floor of my suburban colonial.  

My friend Nicole has a Jawbone Up. That means we can't officially share our steps via the Fitbit app, but we can screenshot results and support and encourage one another. Very early on, we learned that she would walk further and I'd have more steps. I'm barely 5'2". She's 5'8"-- different strides, for sure. Lately, I've tended to have more steps than Kat or Chrystal, which is hilarious considering I'm listening to their motivational podcasts and that's fueling me to go further. [Maybe I need to record a podcast for them;-)?] I've moving been very, very slowly though. I've yet to have a day when I haven't been wheeezing. This virus is excruciatingly slow to leave. It may have something to do with the fact that--even though I knew I was sick--  I flew to the Rocky Mountains, slept very little for three nights, came home, pushed hard through dance recital week, and then persisted in walking every day, to the tune of more than 60 miles in the first two weeks.

I tracked my sleep the first two nights, but after that, I stopped wearing it to bed. I just don't really  need that information and I think a little break from the electronics is probably a good thing. While Chrystal's silent alarm woke me that first night, the two times I wore my silent alarm, I slept right through it. I will admit that I'm not someone who has ever carried her phone on her person, so having this thing strapped to my wrist all the time does sort of  give me the eebie-jeebies. Except it's just so cool...

So what has all this meant in pounds and ounces. Ounces!? Glad you asked. I've been logging over 80 ounces of water almost every day. Fitbit Flex helps me track that.

Oh, you meant the scale. 

I haven't lost an ounce. Honestly, as of this morning, I've gained two pounds. I eat ridicuolously clean and very little. This body weight statistic is baffling and annoying beyond belief. So, yes, I will have my thyroid checked again. I will also put the scale away for the next month. Here's the thing about the Fitbit Flex: I'm in control of those numbers. I can make them go up. I can reach my goals every single day. Whatever it is about my metabolism or my body type (or my luck?), I've always had very little control over my weight. I can't effect the same changes in those numbers. I've lost weight almost as inexplicably as I have gained weight on occasion. It's just a very capricious thing, that scale. But it has the power to discourage. It's actually so powerful it can ruin an entire day before I am even dressed in the morning. So, the scale going to be hidden away for the rest of July. 

Instead, I'm making and keeping friends with this fun device that actually reflects how hard I'm trying.

I've committed to 150 miles in July. I've committed to 80 ounces of water a day. I'm reminding myself that what I'm really trying to do here is to strengthen my heart and lungs (and I probably need to go faster to do that but there's time to work up to that).  I'm holding myself accountable and I've asked my friends to help me.

But wait, there's more! My kids like this bracelet. A lot. Welllll, most of them do. They like to go with me, to find out how many steps it takes to get places. They like to see the smiley guys when I reach my goals. It doesn't seem to know how to accurately count steps if I'm pushing a stroller (or a grocery cart?). I try to let the Fitbit hand swing free. It also doesn't record "steps" while biking. I have had some limited success in both situations with strapping the wristband onto my shoelaces.

 Katie begged for a Fitbit Flex of her own. I conceded because it's good to have something to share with her and she's a happy companion on my jouney. I also got one for the child who loves the couch. He's not allowed to sit down until he has gotten 6,000 steps for the day. He's been encouraged to work towards his own unique fitness goals. There's a one more Fitbit sitting in a box on the dresser in my bedroom. It has my husband's name on it. We'll see where it goes...

Gathering my Thoughts

::outside my window

Six baby bunnies nursing while their daddy stands guard! Last night, just around sunset, my girls came running. "Mommy, Mommy! you have to see this. It's the cutest thing EVER!" There in our backyard, six bunny babies laid on their backs and nursed away happily. I went to get the telephoto lens and carefully lifted the window in order to take pictures. Even though we were up on the second floor, that much movement was too much. Mama hopped away. Daddy followed. The poor babies just stayed there wondering what in the world happened to dinner. I have no pictures. But my girls are unlikely to forget.

::listening to 

Dishwasher swishing and washing machines spinning. Domestic day here.

::clothing myself in 

a FitBit and running shoes. All day, every day. More on that tomorrow.

::talking with my children about these books

 Divergent. Mary Beth really liked the first one. Second and third one, not so much. Definitely for older readers. 

::thinking and thinking

what to do in the fall. "Extracurricular" activities take time and money. I don't really think there is such a thing as "extracurricular." Life is the curriculum. Life is how we learn, especially if we're homeschoolers. Our family grabs life with both hands, jumps in as a family, and then learns what we can in whatever the setting. So it has been with soccer and basketball, where my kids have gone all kinds of places and done all kinds of things. While Mike was in Rhode Island with Stephen and Nick and Christian and Stephen was winning a regional soccer title, Michael was wrapping things up in Brazil. After the trophy ceremony, the boys headed to Connecticut to watch the game at ESPN Headquarters. Way fun.

And Michael's incredible World Cup experience came to a close. He wrote about that-poignantly and personally--here. Even if you don't like soccer, read it. 

Anyway, I digress. It's hard when you have so many children and you limit them to "just one thing" to feel completely confident that time and money is being invested wisely. I'm leaning heavily into God on this one because I really don't know...

::pondering 

::carefully cultivating rhythm

I returned from Colorado very full. Also, very sick and with very little voice. And, nearly three weeks later, I'm still fighting something.

::creating by hand

I have a few little things for Lucy cut. I must sew them now or she'll never wear them. Pictures of those and last week's project at needle & thREAD on Saturday. I promise. 

(Gosh, this is awful. I wrote this nearly three weeks ago. Nothing has changed. Not one thing. Will do better. I promise.)

Wait, no. That's not quite true. Kristin and I made a quadruple batch of healing salve last week. That's creating with our hands. It's also good for our hands.

::learning lessons in

Time and money management.

::encouraging learning in

 Staying in the race and finishing well. 

::begging prayers

Please pray for people struggling with doubt and faith and fear and hopelessness.

The Pope asks us to pray for this intention in July:

 That sports may always be occasions of human fraternity and growth.

I don't know if dance is a "sport" --but I'm seriously praying for human fraternity and growth all around.

::keeping house

Just this. I'm telling you, it took four days.

::crafting in the kitchen 

::giving thanks 

for friends who listen when I think too much. I'm really super grateful for them.

::loving the moments

When everyone comes home, safe and sound, from traveling afar. Tonight, we'll gather and celebrate safe travels and happy homecomings. 

living the liturgy

I have children who cannot start their day without Morning Prayer and will not go to sleep without Night Prayer. I'm so grateful that's the case. 

::planning for the week ahead

Well, it's already Thursday and I'm just now getting around to writing Monday's post. My plan for the rest of the week is blog a bit. And to sew a bit. And to celebrate tomorrow with my gang. And then to go watch Paddy play and bring him home for awhile. 

Mercy in the Morning

I am a dreamer. An idealist. An addicted-to-hope optimist. When one commits to living an intentional life — to not letting moments slip by without assigning to them thought and care — she can set herself up for the perfect perfectionistic storm. I am an intentional mother, not a perfect one. My ideals and my dreams and my plans often far outstrip my realistic ability to make them happen, at least to make them happen in the way I envision. If I let myself look back and see all the ways I’ve gone off plan, all the things that didn’t work out quite the way I imagined, it could discourage even the most stalwart optimist.

But grace.

Every bend in the path, every place it was this and not that, there is the fingerprint of grace. It’s not that God always gave me something happier than what I’d conjured in my idealistic list making. It’s that He gave me what I needed. Sometimes, frankly, I needed a kick in the pants. Sometimes, I needed to come face to face with my failures and drop to my knees and surrender to His mercy. And there it was: mercy new every morning.

He promises us the fresh breeze, the clean slate, the ability to begin anew. There are no limits on the promise. He goes so far as to assure us that we can begin again every morning. Every, single dawn for the rest of our lives, He will be there, with mercy unbounded.

“The Lord’s acts of mercy are not exhausted, His compassion is not spent; they are renewed each morning — great is Your faithfulness"

(Lam 3:22-23)

There it is. Every morning, we are given a fresh supply of mercy. Every morning, we are assured that God has compassion on us, that He hears our dreams and our desires, and He sees our lists and our lamentations. He knows about the wet bed, the spilled milk, the burnt toast that set off the smoke detector before everyone was even out of bed. He shows up, every morning, offering grace enough for the day and grace enough to forgive whatever we messed up the previous day. We just need to meet Him there, in the morning, in the promise of a fresh start.

Before anything else, in the bright promise of the day, God wants us to surrender all to Him. For just a few moments of stillness, steeped in Word and prayer while we hold that first cup of tea, He wants our hearts. In return, we get His mercy in that moment and all the moments that follow.

Even more, we are granted the great grace of forgiveness in the sacraments. We can meet Him in the morning, tell Him our hopes and plans, and, in quiet stillness, listen to what He would have us do. Then, every single day, He is waiting to offer us real strength that comes with His body and blood, a fresh infusion of grace for whatever comes our way. But wait — there’s more. We are also given the opportunity to pour out all those shortcomings — those sins, dirty and accusing — and leave them at the foot of the cross and actually hear the words of forgiveness in confession. Clean slate. Start again. Go forth with the full confidence that we are a new creation, and we can grab onto our optimistic ideals with both hands and live with the reckless abandonment to joy and mercy and grace that is the great gift of this crazy life of faith in Christ.

Teaching From Rest: A Homeschooler's Guide to Unshakable Peace

It is an interesting phenomenon: the internet is dominated by people under 40. For readers of every age, this means that the web is fast-paced and fresh-faced. It’s hip, idealistic, and full of energy. For people like me, well on the other side of 40, it is a source of inspiration and imagination. It is also sorely lacking in wisdom and perspective. So, I’m a bit of a hard sell, particularly when it comes to parenting and education resources. Been there, read that, wrote the revised version from my personal experience.

So, it is with cheerful optimism that I come to you this morning to share Sarah Mackenzie’s Teaching from Rest. Sarah is an in-real-life friend, the kind that has sat on my couch and talked to my kids and confided her heart on my phone throughout the years. There was nothing new for me in this book—I read Sarah’s blog regularly and I’ve had these conversations with her. But it sure is nice to see it all laid out so beautifully and to have a go-to place where I can fill my tank and remember what is truth.

I think my favorite passage was the one where Sarah talked about Peter, venturing out onto the water at Jesus’ beckoning. It was only when he took his eyes off the Master and started looking back towards the boat that Peter began to sink. Sarah reminds her readers not to take their eyes off the Master. And the whole passage reminded me of a conversation I’d had with Sarah. Sometimes, it’s very helpful to see our own advice in print because, sometimes, we need to read the memo.

I don’t think I’d ever have the courage to write a “how-to” book. I write in the “this is what I did/thought/tried and this is how it worked/failed/was revised” genre.  Everything is a trial, a big idea, a tentative step out onto the water. At this stage in my life, with three children "graduates” of our home education experiment and six more still in it, I read homeschooling books rarely, but when I do, I read through the prism of testing whether the advice holds true, whether it is sound over the long haul.

Sarah’s clear, optimistic advice is excellent. She’s right and a mother who adapts Sarah’s philosophy to her own family culture will most likely have a recipe for success in both her educational and relational endeavors. Truth is truth and what is true for someone in her early thirties, still in the baby-bearing and curriculum choosing state of life can be true in one’s late forties when the babies are grandchildren only on a visit and the curriculum is pulled from bursting bookshelves groaning under years of hopeful purchases.

I did hit one bump along the way in my reading, one place where I stopped nodding and had to think long and hard about whether her words held true for me. She writes,

Much of our anxiety in homeschooling could be side-stepped by simply acknowledging who we are trying to please. It sounds too simplistic, I know. But consider that your day- what you prioritize, what you don't- will likely look different depending on whether you are doing it all for His pleasure, or doing it all (or only some of it) to please Grandma, the neighbor, or anyone else.

and later

Whether or not you finish your curriculum, get through all the lessons in the book, or do as much as you set out to do doesn't really matter. Pacing doesn't matter. Change the way you assess your success. The quality of the encounter is what matters.

And then this

Furthermore, there is no reason why the 6th grade math book must be mastered between September and May during your child's 12th year of life. Some bureaucrat somewhere made that up. You don't work for the bureaucrat. You work for God. Funny thing about Him- He doesn't operate on the school district's schedule.

That’s not quite the way I see it these days.

Here’s the thing: we are not accountable to our neighbors or to Grandma or even to the bloggers whom we read for inspiration. That is most definitely true. And at the bottom bottom, we are accountable only to God. However, two realities to consider make this a little more complicated than it might appear at first. It does sort of matter when you get through the sixth grade math book, because after the sixth grade math book there is the seventh grade math book and after that there is algebra and geometry and the SAT. And though Sarah makes it very clear that  no one is called by God to ace the SAT, there is someone who is likely to hold the homeschooling mom accountable. That someone is her child, now grown to a young adult.

He needs to take that test in order to go to college and if he wants to go to college with his peers, we need to be certain that he’s in a position to confidently approach the test knowing that he’s been held to a certain discipline throughout the years which has brought him to mastery of the topics. So, yes, there is a finite place where it matters what has been completed and the best way to get to that place without making oneself crazy is to be faithful towards working diligently throughout the school years.

The second reality is that when we endeavor to educate a child at home, the buck stops with us. And when that child is grown, he is going to look back at his schooling and hold us accountable for its success or failure. Is that right or just? Perhaps not. It is true that only God can hold us accountable. But in the day-to-day living out of relationships within a family, the idea that our children now grown will want to evaluate their unconventional upbringing is one for which home-educating parents should be prepared. The delicate dance of relationship about which Sarah writes so eloquently and to which she gives such priority will bring every mother and child to a moment of reckoning when he looks at the gift of his education and to the choices his parents made on his behalf and he weighs it and measures it.

If he is limited in what he wants to do on the brink of young adulthood by the decisions made prior to that time, the greatest challenge of all will be to persuade the child that there is a bigger picture than moment in which he finds himself and there are still greater lessons to learn. It will be a time where both parties—mother  and child—take an adult inventory and both see where they have fallen short. When the moment comes--and it will come--you might not have peace right away. You might have to struggle and wrestle and repent and forgive. 

There is no question: there will be gaps and failures and inconsistencies and wide learning curves. This is the place where the time put into relationship is a worthwhile investment. It’s always startling for a grown child to recognize that parents are human and they make mistakes and they stumble and sometimes even fall. It’s incredibly humbling for a parent to survey the hard work and well-intentioned path of an entire childhood and to see that she could have (should have?) done some things differently. When two people who have lived in such close community and learned so much together over such a long time reach that moment, they will both need to rest in the knowledge that God’s got this or else their universe might just explode.

And that's why the message in this book is so important.

If we are resting in God, all will work together for the good. The whole of this book speaks to the greatest good. The advice is sound—from curriculum choices to scheduling decisions. It will all work for the good even if he didn’t finish his math book in the sixth grade. (But it might not be quite as simple and peaceful and idealistic as Sarah suggests.)

I think this book is an invaluable resource—to moms just starting out and to moms who need refreshment along the journey. It is well worth the very affordable price to invest in the whole bundle and spend some time this summer truly refreshing and re-evaluating and learning how to lean into God. The gift of the book is that it begs a mother to let Jesus fill all the spaces in her heart and her mind so that He spills out into the ordinary moments and fills the ordinary days and ultimately creates an extraordinary childhood.

I have a copy of Sarah’s book to give away and with it, also the very useful companion journal and four invaluable podcasts with four excellent mentors. Just leave me a comment below and you’re entered to win! Winner announced here next Friday.

Gathering My Thoughts

I find myself:

::noticing God's glory

The garden is once again overrun with weeds. It's crazy how fast they grow.  If I look carefully amidst the weeds, however, I see blueberries about to turn, tiny green tomatoes, little bitty okra and some roses in need of TLC. Some tending today or tomorrow will go along way towards the harvest. I snapped iPhone pictures this morning to document as we go...

 

::listening to 

Birds chirping. It's early morning and today is going to be hot and humid. I so loved the weather in Colorado--much cooler and dry. Never a bad hair day!

::clothing myself in 

a FitBit. Well, not yet, but it's on its way. While I was in Colorado, I rolled over early one morning to see that Chrystal Hurst, one of my roommates, was already up and out. Since we'd spoken the previous night about looking forward to quiet time on the porch in the morning, I figured she'd beaten me up there and claimed a prime spot. When I arrived outside, however, she was no where to be seen. She was out running (or walking) in the beautiful Colorado morning. Her FitBit had insistently nudged her awake (it's not quite silent; I'd definitely heard it, but close) and off she went. A little later, Kat Lee showed me the app for hers. In a few moments she'd checked in on half a dozen people and encouraged them to meet their fitness goals. I like that kind of accountability. These days, I think I need it. So, FitBit on its way and I will wear it. 

::talking with my children about these books

Mary Beth read The Fault in Our Stars. I don't read cancer books, so I can't say that I shared the experience with her. I will tell you that she binge read it and she was profoundly affected. Days later, she was still talking, still processing.

::thinking and thinking

oh wow. My brain is full speed ahead. The weekend away filled my tank to overflowing. Watch to see me share those thoughts here. Or at the new blog at Squarespace, if we can ever get that move to go. I'm going to have to engage in some very technical conversations in the next few days. Whisper a prayer or two? I'm serious. I'm not technically minded and these are no small things. The domain mapping here is so convuluted that moving there is nearly impossible without losing all my links and having to place pictures one by one into every post I've written in the last eight years. The day of reckoning is upon me. So, I'm thinking hard and trying to come up with a plan. 

::pondering 

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

~Theodore Roosevelt

::carefully cultivating rhythm

I returned from Colorado very full. Also, very sick and with very little voice. Yesterday, jet lag crushed me and this wicked summer cold absolutely had its way. A trip to the grocery store completely wiped me out. This morning, I find that I sound much more like myself. Hopefully, it's time now to get on track and fully establish summer rhythm. Here we go!.

::creating by hand

I have a few little things for Lucy cut. I must sew them now or she'll never wear them. Pictures of those and last week's project at needle & thREAD on Saturday. I promise. 

::learning lessons in

I spent three days in Colorado with Sally Clarkson and eight other inspiring women. I learned so much! I was sick when I arrived. And  my blog was down for most of the time there. So, I didn't really learn or do anything at all about furthering my platform. But that was never my intention anyway. I listened and didn't say much. I wrote copious notes because I was afraid that in my cold-induced haze, I'd forget what I'd seen and heard. I literally filled a composition book. Wrote and wrote and wrote--all by hand in a Sharpie. I brought my computer, but didn't touch it the whole time, though there were many opportunities and most people took advantage of them. I focused on absorbing and I hope and pray with my whole heart that I soaked it all in because there was so very much that was good to absorb. I intend to share often in the next few weeks.

::encouraging learning in

Good habits. Summer is the logical time to really work on those little habits that make a big difference. The little girls' bedroom looks like a stuff bomb detonated. I asked them pick up and organize last week. Then I left town. They've taken all their clothes from the closet shelves and lined up all their dolls there. The clothes? On the floor until they figure out a plan for them. Note to self: if you leave children to undertake a big organiztional project withiout your direct input, you will have an even bigger organizational project to conquer in the very near future. Conquer we will.  And then we will work diligently on tidy bedroom habits.

::begging prayers

Please pray for Elizabeth DeHority who continues with her new chemo regime today, even though she's been given almost no hope of it making any difference at all.

And pray for people struggling with doubt and faith and fear and hopelessness.

::keeping house

I think that Auntie Leila (she of housekeeping advice extraordinaire) will be visiting tomorrow. I returned home Sunday evening and was sick yesterday. Guess what we'll be doing today;-)?  Actually, we're not going to be all cleaning crazy. We're going to hang out at a friends' pool and play like it's summer. Because I promised. 

 

::crafting in the kitchen 

We ate amazingly well at Sally Clarkson's house. I'm so inspired to bring summer freshness to my table. Also, Mike got a new grill. Let the fresh, light meals begin! First up: smoky ribs with a side of caprese salad.  

::giving thanks 

for time away to really ponder where we've been and where we're going and how important it is to stay faithful to the ideals over the long haul.

::loving the moments

when it's me who comes through the door after being away and the little ones come running and nearly knock me over with the unbounded glee that I'm home. I'd always had a hunch that was pretty fun. It is. 

living the liturgy

our mission church here in my neghborhood is called Corpus Christi. It's our name day this weekend! 

::planning for the week ahead

It's recital week. I know I have all kinds of deadlines and probably a little drama in the very near future. I'm kind of scared to look at the calendar;-). Rehearsals and recitals and oh, that worldwide soccer tournament that's happening now. Have you followed my boy? He's reporting from Brazil and charming us all with his unbounded joy over the Beautiful Game.