Enough: Can we ever be it or have it?

The conversation turned yet again to Enough. I kind of have a love/hate relationship with that word. On the one hand it can seem so satisfying. When my grandmother was alive, she always kept cookies on hand. Sometimes she would have a coffee can filled with her melt-in-your-mouth sugar cookies. I loved if I saw my name felt-markered on masking-tape stuck to the can’s flimsy plastic lid. They were my favorite. “Did you get enough?” she’d ask. “Oh my – YES. Thank you Margaret!” I’d reply, wondering how in the world I ate half the can before even getting out the door. More than enough — for the moment. Just thinking about them makes me feel like I could use some right about now. So I guess even satisfying-enough is momentary. Because, that’s the story with things of this

Nice People

  “Oh, Kay!” our ever-sweet and delightful school receptionist stopped me as I walked by on my way to grab a kid out of the carpool line. Sometimes after an assembly, we walk to get kids rather than drive through the line. I had stopped several times along the way to catch up with folks, so I was last. My poor kids. Last in the alphabet. Last thanks to a chatty-mom. “Hi Cindy,” I smiled back at her. “Kay, I think this key might be yours?” Huh? A key. She rustled through some papers on her desk then lifted up a single car key stuck to the underside of a yellow Post-It Note – bearing “KAY” in black Sharpee. I looked at the key, noticed it to be my own and wondered how in the world it had ended up at Cindy’s desk. The last I knew I had put it in my pocket when racing from my car a few blocks from the school – slightly late,

Modeling Perfect Imperfection

Singer, songwriter and author Andrew Peterson stopped by Dallas last week to inspire kids and adults alike. I don’t know Andrew, but if I did and if he and his family lived in Dallas, I think we’d be friends. I also thought, oh so many years ago while sitting next to my sister in the Wichita Falls Sikes Center Mall movie theater watching Top Gun, that one day I’d meet Tom Cruise. I haven’t. But I did get to meet Andrew. I group-ied in line with his fans (middle school avid readers of The Wingfeather Saga – a series of 4 fantasy thrillers) so I could tell him thank you. Thanks for being regular and modeling imperfect in a world obsessed with performance among other pressures. Before being bombarded by fans, Andrew shared with the 4th-8th graders plus a splattering of parents (most of whom love his music) at our

Carpool Messaging

Carpool heaven. We’ve gone for years without a dog. Which for those who know our story has been hard, but right. I’m an animal lover who brought everything home to be a pet. And I always thought I’d have horses and cats and dogs – but my path didn’t lead that way. So we were surprised by this new addition (Mitty) who has made morning drop-offs sweet. I mean how can riding to school with an adorable, though sometimes mischievous, puppy on your lap be bad :) But truth be told, I hope all of our morning rides can and have been equally sweet, puppy or not. I hope they’re filled with laughs and love and honest and safe. That the kids understand that they are known and unconditionally loved and that their worth is never defined by a grade, a team, a friend group or anything besides Truth. Truth that our worth exceeds

Do’s And Be’s Aside

“… then have Alexa read your kid a good-night story so you can have a few moments to yourself.”   “What?” my shotgun kid said in disbelief.   I had to double-take myself. I’m so used to rewinding to see or hear again, I reached for the remote control. Realizing that we’re driving and that radio doesn’t rewind, I repeated what we thought we heard one of our local personalities say to the rousing agreement-exclamations of her on-air buddies, “I think she just said to have Alexa read to your kid at night.”   “That kind of defeats the purpose don’t you think?” She’s seventeen and would probably still stop for a sit and listen if a book is being read out loud – which we sometimes do, though not often enough. Still, she thought out loud, “What’s next? Alexa run my laps. Alexa brush my teeth. Alexa

Smart Phones: Friend, Foe, Freedom

Kids and phones are and have seen the best of times (I mean, really – sitting in a germ-infested doctors office is MUCH less stressful with a kid’s hands occupied rather than free to the room) to the worst of times. We could probably fill the page with the latter. social media pressures seemingly unavoidable access to damaging apps argument inducer that accompany almost every limitation setting even addiction There’s also a new term, “nomophobia” meaning NO MOre PHone phOBIA – as in debilitating fear when the phone is gone. Seems a stretch, but who can make this stuff up.   Of course none of that is limited to kids. But it’s always easier to see others’ issues before our own. Or maybe it’s the major warning signals flashing brightly, letting us know that something is

Great News in Today’s culture

From our family to yours, Merry Christmas! We’re still working on addressing cards and delivering a couple of neighbor gifts – hot chocolate, better late than never, right?!. And, I might have even found a gift or two that got lost in the mix. The still unwrapped items just might be saved for a later since their absence never mattered to begin with. As expected, the most special gifts were the ones the kids picked out and payed for each other. The best was probably this math equations nerd-shirt. The kid instantly put it on then chuckled throughout the evening at a couple of the equations. Apparently they’re real – and funny. Who knew?! Returns have already commenced. Especially since I accidentally ordered 2 (TWO!) beanbag chairs – the special gift for 1 (ONE) kid – oops! I thought I share a little

Gift Guide – Simple Rules

“What are you getting the boys?” a friend of mine asked. We bumped into each other at the pharmacy. My fingers are still crossed, hoping we’re done with the flu! “That’s the question of the hour,” I shake my head. “Funny thing,” I started in, “I was in Tuesday Morning last week picking up a lamp for my mom. Our rearranging of her furniture opened the perfect spot for a lamp by her chair. And I totally scored with the perfect lamp for that spot.” “I love Tuesday Morning,” she sighed. “It can be hit or miss. But when it hits, it’s a home-run for sure.” “I know. So happy.” Birds were singing, we smile-nodded, all was right in the world. “If only all shopping could be as quick and productive as that lamp-run,” she said. “Fact,” I shuh-replied. Yeah, my friend looked at me weird, too. Sometimes

The Overwhelming Nature of the Season

I have a tiny vendetta against pressure/stress/circumstance-laden Overwhelmed. I’m tired of things stealing from me, from us – the kids and my friends and people in general. There are so many examples. Huge things like the legitimate uproar over kids and smart phones. Jean Twenge recently authored a study/book on the dangers of smart-phone use, specifically to the point of destroying a generation of kids who are “on the brink of a mental health crisis.” I see the articles. And my heart aches at all the repercussions and the enormity of the situation. Medium things that look huge since we live in the days of instant (instant gratification, instant results, instant judgement,… ) like grades. It’s the end of the semester – a few low numbers threaten to make that fragile, yet powerful GPA an indictment rather than a golden

The Often Dismissed Importance of Self-Standards

This morning as I parked in front of the house upon returning from a Top-Pot donut run (funny thing about having kids, donuts re-entered my life – I know that’s not the case for everyone, but they’re just so yummy and life’s short and I have such fond memories of weekend donuts when I was a kid, and well, enough excuses/justifications just don’t judge me :) I noticed something that I so wish I had captured on video – integrity and doing the right thing at its finest. Standing on my neighbor’s sidewalk, bent at the waist, staring at the grass stood a neighbor (TS) from a few blocks over (I know he lives a few blocks away because he’s our friend.) Behind him two leashed dogs sat, waiting. He looked and looked. Stood up, scratched his head, then looked some more. He absolutely couldn’t
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