The Rotted Banana Peel
The days were dwindling, and the packing wasn’t near complete. As I sat on the hard linoleum floor with my face buried in the cabinet under the kitchen sink, I couldn’t find it. I packed up the miscellaneous junk, that no matter my best efforts, always accumulated under there. While boxing up garbage bags and cleaning supplies, I was also searching for something important. But with my box now full, and not much left besides the plumbing, I was losing hope. Days before Jackson’s second birthday, he enjoyed snacking on a banana. When he finished, I reminded him to throw away the peel. Excited to do something all by himself, he ran into the kitchen, threw the cabinet door open, and tossed that bright yellow banana peel into no man’s land, missing by a mile. I...
my boys
I love my boys. Both stole my heart the first moment our eyes met as the doctor held them over the blue curtain. Three-and-a-half years apart in age, yet they share so many similarities. They are both fair skinned with wispy blond hair. Their smiles light up a room. They have the same chubby little hands that lock perfectly with mine. They both have a cute, button nose and eyes the color of a dark sky before an impending thunderstorm. They love giving kisses through the spindles on the staircase as they head to bed. They adore their big sister and love walking her to the bus stop and getting one more hug before she leaves. And they are giddy with joy as they watch her step off the bus after school. They share the same goofy, nose-scrunching smile when they’re...
messy but beautiful
Kate, Ryder and I were hanging out in the kitchen cooking and eating, dancing and singing the other day. Kate discovered a new kids and family radio station, so we had the music blaring through the speakers while we baked some chocolate cupcakes. I love dance parties at our house. They’re typically sporadic, but that’s when the most fun happens. After cracking the last egg, Kate picked up the spoon, flipped it upside down and started singing into her self-made microphone. I followed suit with the jar of balsamic vinegar. And Ryder just danced alongside. We were bopping around to a kids’ version of “All About that Bass” one minute then the next was a song about bag lunches. Kate and I were laughing at some of the lyrics. As we waited for the next song to start,...
the devil won’t win
I ran into a friend the other day, and like the start of most conversations, I casually asked her how things were going. Her response surprised me. “The devil has been coming at me this week,” she said. “But I’m not letting him win.” What a powerful statement. I feel like the devil is always knocking on my door. Sometimes it’s a soft “tap tap”. And other times he is banging so hard the door is about fall down. Like two weeks ago… I was at the bookstore alone and left my phone in the car. I was gone for only five or ten minutes, but when I returned there were several missed calls from Eric and Kate’s school. I knew this was not going to end well. Kate was injured on the playground. As the school nurse put it, “she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”...
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