mondays are for laundry, pre-k homeschool, menu planning and groceries. hammering jewelry, big kid homework, softie dolls, library, post office, dinner.
it helps if the sky is streaming sun, and if you have a child within earshot drumming up songs as he stamps snails on his rectangle of paper ('i wanna be...dora. i wanna be...sponge bob. i wanna be...ice cream. i wanna be...sunday school. i wanna be...aunt kindra. i wanna be...lowercase q.')
our weekend was a mixed bag: you had your stare-downs, your excellent company, your occasional one-child mutiny. plus also you had this:
indoor s'mores. the name pretty much explains everything. (recipe here, and you kind of have to squeeze your eyes shut so you don't see the boatloads of butter that take part in these gorgeous fellows. it's alarming. and delicious.)
number 19, ms jennifer shults, you are my girl. (and thank you all for your bolstering comments...elle seems to have taken to her new 'do, and little em's pleased as punch with his burgeoning reading skills.)
and all this talk of hope got me thinking how this mothering business plays tricks on your heart. i can go to bed frayed and spent and convinced my child will still be screaming his tonsils out forty years down the line, but then today comes. and i wake and tell God in the shower how much i need him, and ask for the energy to be on my boy's side one more time.
and He supplies. and i am. and grace pours over the whole fractured mess till i can't make out a single split or seam.
continuing the list of thankfuls:
-honey soap -lori, darcy, mom, crystal, lisa, shannan, aunty c and so many of you who are praying for strength and miracles -towels worn soft -skeletal trees -expectancy -guava jam -and an almost-here niece (hurrah!)