Q: Was there a chore you really hated doing as a child?
A: Do kids ever like chores? I suppose perhaps once in a while. Morgan enjoys organizing things. Aiden likes doing projects with Jeremy. But the day in, day out home maintenance jobs? Not so much!
I have a default toward lazy, so even doing chores as a grown up isn't my most favorite thing. Some things I procrastinate until they can't be ignored. One of those is dusting.
It seemed like I was always in charge of dusting when I was a kid, and because my mom was religious about getting it done every week it was hard to really see much difference between the before and after. The worst part about it, though, was moving all the knickknacks, dusting each one, and then putting them back. So, so tedious.
When I stayed home with my kids, the dusting got done more regularly than it does these days. I try to not completely neglect it, and I truly do appreciate a clean and tidy home, but it's usually near the bottom of the ever-growing to do list.
Saturday, June 1, 2019
Sunday, February 3, 2019
Reads of 2017
- Into the Bright Unknown by Rae Carson
- Out of the Easy by Ruta Sepetys
- Out of the Silent Planet by C.S. Lewis
- The Bitter Kingdom by Rae Carson
- The Heretic's Daughter by Kathleen Kent
- Lark Rise by Flora Thompson
- The Neverending Story by Michael Ende
- The Crown of Embers by Rae Carson
- The Fall of the House of Usher and Other Writings by Edgar Allan Poe
- The God Who Weeps by Fiona and Terryl Givens
- The Orphan Keeper by Camron Wright
- Hidden Figures by Margot Lee Shetterly
- Between Shades of Gray by Ruta Sepetys
- The Zookeeper's Wife by Diane Ackerman
- The Girl of Fire and Thorns by Rae Carson
- Salt to the Sea by Ruta Sepetys
- Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell
- Soldier Boy by Keely Hutton
- Believing Christ by Stephen E. Robinson
- The Actor and the Housewife by Shannon Hale
- Lady of Quality by Georgette Heyer
- Windfall by Jennifer E. Smith
- The Book of Mormon
- Champion by Marie Lu
- Prodigy by Marie Lu
- Legend by Marie Lu
- A Night Divided by Jennifer A. Nielsen
- Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell
- The Book of Joy by the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu
- The Book of Mormon
- I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
- Call the Midwife: Farewell to the East End by Jennifer Worth
- Letter to My Daughter by Maya Angelou
- Eve and the Choice Made in Eden by Beverly Campbell
- Call the Midwife: Shadows of the Workhouse by Jennifer Worth
- Frederica by Georgette Heyer
- The Story of My Life by Helen Keller
- Amazing Grace by Eric Metaxas
- Old Testament
Reads of 2018
- The Book of Mormon
- All the Ever Afters by Danielle Teller
- The Ragged Edge of Night by Olivia Hawker
- Agatha Raisin and the Potted Gardener by MC Beaton
- Dragonwatch by Brandon Mull
- Agatha Raisin and the Vicious Vet by MC Beaton
- A Long Walk to Water by Linda Sue Park
- Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman
- One by One by David A Bednar
- The Boys in the Boat by Daniel James Brown
- Heir to Edenbrook by Julianne Donaldson
- Flat Broke with Two Goats by Jennifer McGaha
- Edenbrooke by Julianne Donaldson
- The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind by William Kamkwamba
- The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern
- The Girl in the Tower by Katherine Arden
- Agatha Raisin and the Quiche of Death by MC Beaton
- The Dressmaker of Khair Khana by Gayle Tzemach Lemmon and Sarah Zimmerman
- The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry by Gabrielle Zevin
- Outcasts United by Warren St. John
- The Lady in Gold by Anne-Marie O'Connor
- Nothing to Envy by Barbara Demick
- The Huntress of Thornbeck Forest by Melanie Dickerson
- Starflight by Melissa Landers
- The Invention of Wings by Sue Monk Kidd
- The Element by Ken Robinson, PhD
- Wrath of the Storm by Jennifer A. Nielsen
- Rise of the Wolf by Jennifer A. Nielsen
- The Self-Driven Child by William Strixrud, PhD, and Ned Johnson
- The Art of Hearing Heartbeats by Jan-Philipp Sendker
- Elmet by Fiona Mozley
- Fish in a Tree by Lynda Mullaly Hunt
- The Rithmatist by Brandon Sanderson
- The Librarian of Auschwitz by Antonio Iturbe
- Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
- The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden
- Mark of the Thief by Jennifer A. Nielsen
Wednesday, January 3, 2018
Origins and Inspiration

Sleigh bells. Candy canes. Angels. Manger scenes. Stockings. Santa Claus. Reindeer. All the trappings for a perfect holiday season. Except at our house we needed something more.
Last Christmas the kids came home from school with the typical array of decorations and colored pages. Then Aiden presented me with a delicious surprise. At first glance I saw a standard reindeer with handprint antlers. Another clever use of kindergarten-sized mitts. Then I noticed the reindeer’s expression. Rather than a jolly, “merry Christmas” style grin, I was faced with severe eyebrows, a down-turned mouth, and rather ferocious teeth. It fairly growled at me.
I laughed. “Why is your reindeer so angry?” I asked.
Aiden looked at it and said, “He’s evil.” No further explanation.
But now I had an evil reindeer on my hands. I couldn’t have imagined a more thorough contradiction to everything Christmas represents. I guess if you think about it, a reindeer could have plenty to be angry about during this time of year. I’d be pretty grumpy, too, if I had a worldwide trip ahead of me with no allowances for nasty weather and nothing to keep my toes warm on snowy rooftops.
I doubt Aiden put that much thought into the “why” of his angry reindeer, but the mere contradiction completely hit my funny bone. The evil, angry reindeer promptly found a spot on the refrigerator door, where it remained long after the other Christmas decorations had returned to their boxes. I just didn’t have the heart to take it down because it came to represent several things for me. It served as a reminder of how my kids brighten my days. How their views of the world make me smile. How each member of our family is individual and creative and inspiring. How I can find joy in the smallest moments. How love can grow sometimes imperceptibly and sometimes by leaps and bounds so my heart feels like it will burst.
Eventually I did remove the angry reindeer from its place of honor on the refrigerator. Mostly I was afraid it would get ruined if left there too long. It needed to be preserved in the safety of the filing cabinet. But every so often I will open the reindeer’s secluded drawer just to put that smile back on my face, to remember that life can be unexpected and inexplicable and maybe even a little bit wicked but wonderful just the same.
Tuesday, January 2, 2018
Fly
I pulled into my driveway a recent sunny morning and saw on my lawn a couple of birds in search of their breakfast. One, I quickly noticed, had a strange rhythm to its hop. Looking closer I could see one leg severely twisted, its foot facing an unnatural direction. The little bird couldn't support much weight on the leg, but it wobbled undeterred and energetic in its quest for food. Before long it found what it was searching for and, in a burst of surprising power, lifted toward the sky.
I watched until the bird disappeared and sat pondering the inevitable metaphors found in this quiet scene. The most resonant for me right now relates to one of the jobs I've had this past school year. After I agreed to do recess duty, the secretary told me they had a need for someone to work as a part time aide for a handicapped third grade boy. He already had a full time aide, but because of certain policy changes, she could only work a set number of hours and another person was needed to cover the remaining hours of the school day.
The job description essentially requires me to be his hands. His condition is some big long word that starts with an a which affected his development in utero. He has very little muscle in his arms and legs. Much like the little bird's foot, his hands are misshapen, the fingers basically unusable. So while he is in a mainstream classroom - Spanish immersion at that - he needs a wheelchair to get around and can't hold a pencil in his hands.
But enough of what he can't do. Here's what has been a marvelous, surprising, uplifting revelation to me. He was telling me something one day and mentioned just as naturally as could be how he was "differently-abled" and then carried on with the rest of his story. Of course, I'd heard the term used before, but now I was witnessing on a fairly intimate level the truth of the phrase. Undoubtedly there are some things he will never do as well or as easily as his peers. But he can do many things and remarkably well. He uses his mouth for most things we use our hands -- writing, turning pages, even folding paper. I dare anyone to challenge him to a spit wad contest. He uses his arm to drive and steer his wheelchair, which he can maneuver forward and backward with impressive accuracy. He participates in soccer and dodge ball and tag games without hesitation. He's enthusiastic about physical therapy. He had a surgery a few months ago to remove some hardware from his legs placed there during an unsuccessful operation last summer. He came back to school excited about the new braces he would wear that would help support his knees enough that he can stand with minimal support and even walk, aided, around the school. He is not ashamed of his differences and has rallied many other children around him. They cheer his successes and are true friends.
I had a moment during one of his physical therapy sessions watching while the therapist held his body so he could stand straight and tall. Usually, because of the lack of muscle to support his frame, he leans far forward and has little balance. But as he stood there that day, I envisioned him whole and strong. I thought of how his mother and father must see him, not just as a condition requiring 24 hour assistance, but as a child of God with unlimited potential. It's easy to quickly see the defects and disabilities, just as I could easily spot the broken foot on the little bird. But with a change of perspective, an expanded vision, I began to witness the power with which and the heights to which he can and will fly.
I watched until the bird disappeared and sat pondering the inevitable metaphors found in this quiet scene. The most resonant for me right now relates to one of the jobs I've had this past school year. After I agreed to do recess duty, the secretary told me they had a need for someone to work as a part time aide for a handicapped third grade boy. He already had a full time aide, but because of certain policy changes, she could only work a set number of hours and another person was needed to cover the remaining hours of the school day.
The job description essentially requires me to be his hands. His condition is some big long word that starts with an a which affected his development in utero. He has very little muscle in his arms and legs. Much like the little bird's foot, his hands are misshapen, the fingers basically unusable. So while he is in a mainstream classroom - Spanish immersion at that - he needs a wheelchair to get around and can't hold a pencil in his hands.
But enough of what he can't do. Here's what has been a marvelous, surprising, uplifting revelation to me. He was telling me something one day and mentioned just as naturally as could be how he was "differently-abled" and then carried on with the rest of his story. Of course, I'd heard the term used before, but now I was witnessing on a fairly intimate level the truth of the phrase. Undoubtedly there are some things he will never do as well or as easily as his peers. But he can do many things and remarkably well. He uses his mouth for most things we use our hands -- writing, turning pages, even folding paper. I dare anyone to challenge him to a spit wad contest. He uses his arm to drive and steer his wheelchair, which he can maneuver forward and backward with impressive accuracy. He participates in soccer and dodge ball and tag games without hesitation. He's enthusiastic about physical therapy. He had a surgery a few months ago to remove some hardware from his legs placed there during an unsuccessful operation last summer. He came back to school excited about the new braces he would wear that would help support his knees enough that he can stand with minimal support and even walk, aided, around the school. He is not ashamed of his differences and has rallied many other children around him. They cheer his successes and are true friends.
I had a moment during one of his physical therapy sessions watching while the therapist held his body so he could stand straight and tall. Usually, because of the lack of muscle to support his frame, he leans far forward and has little balance. But as he stood there that day, I envisioned him whole and strong. I thought of how his mother and father must see him, not just as a condition requiring 24 hour assistance, but as a child of God with unlimited potential. It's easy to quickly see the defects and disabilities, just as I could easily spot the broken foot on the little bird. But with a change of perspective, an expanded vision, I began to witness the power with which and the heights to which he can and will fly.
Thursday, February 23, 2017
Reads of 2016
- Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee
- The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman
- The Upstairs Room by Johanna Reiss
- Wild by Cheryl Strayed
- Call the Midwife by Jennifer Worth
- Like a River Glorious by Rae Carson
- Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg
- Dear Mr. Knightley by Katherine Reay
- A Room with a View by E.M. Forster
- All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
- The Mapmaker's Children by Sarah McCoy
- The Blue Castle by L.M. Montgomery
- The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman
- Girl on a Wire by Gwenda Bond
- This is What Happy Looks Like by Jennifer E. Smith
- A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith
- When Calls the Heart by Janette Oke
- The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown
- Freckles by Gene Stratton Porter
- Walk on Earth a Stranger by Rae Carson
- Timebound by Rysa Walker
- Our Sacred Honor by Ron Carter
- Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
- Winter by Marissa Meyer
- Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson
- Mary Anne by Daphne du Maurier
- A Painted House by John Grisham
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