Some random unraveling and happy things this week:
Dash found a pal.
Little boys playing with little-bit-bigger boys makes me very happy.
Dash also found his sister’s stash of Secret Things Purposely Hidden From Little Brother.
I let him at ’em because he was gentle and sweet and put them all back when he was done sniffing them out.
Modern Dance with Curtain Prop.
“Hello? Do you sell baby gates? My mom is inquiring.”
Found…
...this scene in my bedroom two minutes past when we were supposed to leave for school.
Hard to get all panicky and “We’re going to be tardy” when you land on this.
Totally worth the 12 bobby pins.
Friday Phone Dump this week…
If you stop pushing this car for–God forbid–half a second, he will voice his disappointment.
Second grade is my favorite.
I read an essay…
…in Real Simple last week–this home run feel-good piece by Jenny Rosenstrach about not being able to fix her daughters’ middle school drama and broken heart problems. She recalls her mother’s advice of sitting out the drama and letting her daughters figure it out on their own: “Mom did give me one tangible way to help,” she explained, “You just make sure that when those girls walk in that door every day…they never doubt that home is the most comforting place for them to be. That is what you can do.”
I’m so glad I read that piece because it led me to Jenny and her writing, and a few days later Sister sent me her books. So here I am in my kitchen tonight with her just released book, Dinner: the Playbook, and it’s full of inspiration, not intimidation. Homey stuff. Personality. A friend in the kitchen. Tonight, I made her braised adobo pork with polenta, and it was amazing.

After 15 years since seeing it…
…I dug up Anne of Green Gables on DVD and introduced it to my girls with curlers and milkshakes and couch forts because that’s how it’s done. They have yet to appreciate the Lady of Shalott and bosom friends and the standard Matthew Cuthbert sets for all mankind. But they will. I’ll make sure of it.
Also, L.M. Montgomery #nailedit with this: “There’s such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I’m such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn’t be half so interesting.” GET OUT OF MY HEAD, ANNE SHIRLEY.

Her spirit.
I use an aromatizer with a mess of essential oils for calm and serenity and clarity in our home. And then sometimes, I just turn the damn thing off and snuggle up next to this one instead.

Beach Night.
It was raining out in the gulf. There were storms north of us. But we found a sand bar and watched the sun cut through the clouds, and it was a glorious scene. I cannot define God, but I arrive closest to it in peace during pain, in watching children, in selfless acts of love and in nature when–like this moment–things are just too beautiful to make sense outside of some bigger explanation.
Two more days until September.
I never said I didn’t like a nice pair of tights–particularly aubergine. I will bust out a boot with a fall plaid like nobody’s business before it’s fashionably legal in Florida. My nails are already painted a deep merlot, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t scouted this year’s Christmas long johns already, and I will not pretend the debut of Starbucks’ Pumpkin Spice Latte didn’t make my heart dance a jig the other day. But we can have both–ride the line between grateful present and grateful-for-fun-to-come. That said, the white pants will live on past Labor Day for me–if not simply to give Obama a break for his tan suit. There’s surely another summer bucket list item to cross off, another sparkler to light, another impromptu barbecue waiting for us to ignite its fun. We’ll have pool parties at night and follow them with hot chocolate and cinnamon sticks. Mint green AND mustard yellow. Popsicles AND football chili. Don’t make me pick.
Happy Labor Day Weekend, Friends!
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This week, on eHow, I’m sharing:
What I Hope My Kids Say About Me
“I don’t want my children to ever feel pressure that my happiness is dependent on their choices or that my fulfillment hinges on their successes. “She supported us and cheered us on,” I hope they say, “but she also invested in her own continued pursuit of learning opportunities.”
Read more by clicking below.
…and…
How to Feel Positive in Our Efforts of Raising Our Kids
“When I feel myself wondering if maybe I’m doing it wrong, or when I feel like I’m not the best version of the parent I want to be, I remind myself of this: self-loathing parenting shame is the most unproductive place to be as a parent.”
Read more by clicking below.























