It’s been pretty quiet around here.
On the blog.
But in real life…a little louder. Nothing bad or even particularly amazing. Just.
(I’ve been more active on my Facebook account and Instagram in general. Microblogging is proving easier this holiday season.)
I was laying in bed this morning trying to figure out what it was about the last few weeks that have felt so busy.
And then I realized…we had Epilepsy Day at Disneyland, The Walk to End Epilepsy, Thanksgiving, I went to New York, and Andy was in Europe….ALL IN THE MONTH OF NOVEMBER. (And both of those epilepsy events are 200 miles away. Not local.)
Needless to say, I made a couple boxes of Mac n Cheese for the kids and I one night (while Andy was in France, eating whatever French people eat. Of which, I would imagine does not include Kraft). I can’t even remember the last time I made this. And I was so excited and it tasted so delicious…for like three bites. And then my taste buds were like “Dude. You’re an adult now. This stuff is foul.”
My kids had the same reaction. They liked it at first…but didn’t finish their bowls. I think I supplemented with microwave popcorn.
#bestmomever
I love Lisa’s personalized ornaments.
They are so precious and sentimental and beautiful.
(you can get 10% off your entire order using code xmas14)
It wasn’t even 9 am.
On the regular.
Life is crazy and busy and exhausting and the world feels like it’s going to just burst at the seams some days.
When I’m feeling super down about the brokenness, I seek out Giving. Because we have to be the Helpers. In His name.
So the kids and I headed out and bought 20 turkeys (Henry’s back behind that cart). And then we drove those 20 birds straight to the food bank. And we talked. And people in the store asked questions. And there were no sweeter sounds than my little charges explaining to patrons that we were headed to the food bank to donate. And watching them beam when strangers exclaimed how wonderful that was of them.
Look, I have no savior complex. I do not believe for one hot second that these turkeys solve a single problem. I truly do not. Saving the world is Jesus’ job, not mine, the kids’, or yours. But I do believe that our hearts matter, and I want my children to learn that through doing and giving…even if it feels overwhelming and like a drop in the proverbial bucket.
Ree reminded me how to brine our own bird.
I like that chick.
(Ree. Not the turkey. Although that was pretty good too.)
Andy took me to see the latest Hunger Games movie.
And Channing is super disgusted by my boots apparently. Yeah. They’re from Marshall’s. Fake leather. WHATEVER TATUM.
I love when I catch them loving on one another. These brothers are besties. The little copying the big, and the big soaking it up. I remember worrying that the five year age difference would be big enough that they wouldn’t be friends.
So far they are mostly inseparable.
And just seconds later the sister cozied up too.
Hey look. My kids have apparently watched a lot of television the last couple of weeks. #keepingitreal
I was trying to knock out one of those time sensitive emails that you ‘ve been putting off for weeks and now it’s due like RIGHT THIS SECOND AND I DON”T CARE IF YOU ARE DYING OR POOPING IN A CORNER I”LL BE RIGHT THERE JUST LET ME GET THIS OUT…
This is how I found them.
Glad we just had those couches cleaned professionally. Jerks.
Walmart had these little bikes for only $19 each on Black Friday.
So I grabbed two and figured they’d be perfect for giving. I’ll check our church’s angel tree for a couple of little girls who might like a bike this year.
Giving is my favorite.
Followed closely by my 7 year old, who, upon playing his very first game of Scrabble, and on his very first word spelled BEER.
Obviously.
We had fam in town over the holiday weekend and spent an afternoon wine tasting.
Yeah, with the kids.
But we kept to places they could hang outside at…including this little winery that also has a peacock farm.
I went to Home Depot.
I waited a long time.
Oh, and you know, we also had our FOUL, FILTHY, SUN BLEACHED, LOOKED LIKE A CSI CRIME SCENE carpet pulled up and replaced it with laminate.
I’ll do a whole post about it this week (because obviously you can’t sleep at night unless I share every home dec project with you, right?).
For now, please admire my floors. Not just because they’re pretty but mostly because YOU CAN WIPE THEM OFF.
He doesn’t believe in spoons.
Daddy plays in a city league basketball team thing.
They went to the championship game. (and won!)
I took the kids.
Let’s just say it was like wrangling a giant eel the whole time.
A giant eel that was also yelling “Go! Mommy! Keys! Bye bye!”
But this girl?
She cheered and clapped and even yelled “GO DADDY!!!!”
Non-verbal is really freaking hard, you guys. But non-verbal makes you appreciate the few words that do come out.
The cats love him.
Or not really.
I just giggle like a junior higher because he still calls them titties.
Because I’m a grown woman.
Alright. Your turn! Whatdya do?
Latest posts by jeannett (see all)
- Dirt in a Jar, Laundry Scientists, and Clean Water - October 20, 2015
- Because Cake. - October 11, 2015
- How to design a luxury bathroom for less - August 12, 2015
Love the life update. Keep on going on!
I worked a 60 hour work week, then passed out from exhaustion. Last night, I volunteered to co-chaperone a slumber party for my friends 6-year-old and was up until 2 a.m. Pretty much the reason why I am going to be hitting the egg nog/adult beverage combo in a lil’ while. And it’s not even 3 p.m. yet. ;o)
Best,
Caryl
I feel the same with with Instagram. Sometimes it’s so much easier to micro-blog. Although I don’t really macro-blog, so. // Yay for teaching your kids the importance of being a drop in the bucket. Together all the little drops can make a big splash! // Have a good week!
“Non-verbal is really freaking hard.” I needed to hear that. My twins are almost 3 and they are still not really verbal. They’re in speech therapy and making some progress with pointing and sounds, but no real spontaneous speech. Family and friends try to be encouraging. And I realize my story is different than yours because they aren’t battling Epilepsy, but it’s still freaking hard. And sometimes, I just need someone to acknowledge it without all the sunshine and rainbows, even if it’s well-intended. So thank you. And you’re right; the words that do come are standing-up-and-cheer victories!