Uncategorized
Tomorrow, they turn two and two weeks later my big boy will head off to kindergarten. We walked last night through the spritzing rain and I held his hand with the always dry, cracking skin while my husband pushed the big wide stroller brimming...
Uncategorized
This spring, the branches of the weeping cherry tree across the street hung low, heavy with beauty and swirled around the trunk like a woman’s skirts, shifted by the slightest breeze. This too is how my children move, teeming ’round my legs as we set out...
Uncategorized
In the spring of the year, nest-building is upper-most in a bird’s mind: it is the most important thing there is. If she picks a good place, she stands a good chance of hatching her eggs and rearing her young. If she picks a poor place, she may fail to raise a...
Uncategorized
It dawns on me three loads in that nowhere in the jumble of Daddy’s t-shirts and sister’s skirts, and oodles of onesies and shorts, have I seen a single pair of underwear for my oldest son. Granted, we all know about boys and their underwear,...
Uncategorized
I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love. To them I was like one who lifts a little child to the cheek, and I bent down to feed them. Hosea 11:3-4 * * * I stand in the doorway of my older son’s...
