Every Christmas I make loaves and loaves and loaves of cinnamon bread. The first time I make it, the kids run to the kitchen like they just heard that Shawn Mendes was playing a concert in my stand mixer. (JK, my kids don’t know who Shawn Mendes is. But now that I think about it,
Last Saturday morning after breakfast we all piled on the couch to watch the end of Christmas Vacation, which we had started the night before. Anna got bored (sorry, Chevy Chase!) and wandered into the playroom. I glanced at her as she meandered over to a little set of blocks and started stacking them. She
I’ve been preparing for Easter for weeks. I started gathering gifts for the kids and I splurged on a Easter dress for myself. I’d get coordinating outfits for the kids later, I told myself. I’d wait to buy out Kroger’s supply of Peeps until closer to Easter, I thought. Otherwise I’d just eat them and
Mary started the Christmas season feeling overly burdened by the season, what with being a “Mary” and all. As if sharing a name with the Virgin Mother of the Savior wasn’t enough, her name is also a homophone with the salutation of the season: MERRY. She makes it look easy, but believe me, it is not.
Christmas morning anticipation — Tom gathers the kids on the stairs to read the Christmas story before rushing down to see presents. Before you get distracted by David and Mary’s looks of concentration, Thomas’s impish grin, or noticing that this is the first year Anna isn’t being held by one of us — before you
BOO! Our family had a great Halloween, but as I sit typing this my eyelids are heavy and I’m feeling judged by the spooky decorations that became unseasonable 12 hours ago. I’m already feeling the busyness of the holidays and taking it as a reminder to try to slow down and enjoy the season. Perhaps this