Papaw didn’t tolerate himself no fools

Next week marks the third year since my wife’s grandfather passed away, and so there’s always a bit of sadness around the house as my wife reflects upon his life and her loss.

I clearly did not know the man the way my wife did, but I knew from the beginning that he was a man to be respected.

She has always said he was more father than grandfather, offering a balance of lessons learned with the doting affection one should always give their children.

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Co-op Day

I’ve mentioned that this year, our family chose to participate in a local, weekly co-op. While it’s been a steep learning curve (this is the first time in our 14 year homeschooling journey where our family has had to consider the expectations of others in terms of assignments), I’d say it’s been an overall positive experience for the four children attending — and my husband, who is definitely the cutest Physics teacher ever.

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My longing has a name…

As it turns out, there’s a word for it, that feeling of nostalgia, a sense that perhaps, something has passed you by and you’ll never ever really get it back. Maybe it was never really there at all.

Or perhaps a moment, and maybe you’re not even really sure what it was, but it makes you long for something that’s out in front of you, but you can’t really grab it, not at this moment in your life.

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What did you learn today?

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From the beginning days of our homeschooling journey, my husband has had a habit of asking our children a simple question. “What did you learn today?”

And every day, I wait eagerly for all of those interesting tidbits that I have so carefully poured into their heads to come tumbling out.

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Sunday, Sunday

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Plan A: Get up, put yogurt and granola on the table, oversee kids getting ready, feed everyone, make fellowship meal and clean up kitchen (simultaneously), shower, get dressed, pack van..

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Greenchild creations {review + giveaway}

We received a free product for the purpose of writing this review. Our family only reviews items that we actually find valuable and are able to be 100% honest about regarding our experience. We received no monetary compensation for our opinion. Links contained in this post may direct to affiliate sites. 

We’ve talked about Jude’s size, right?

Eight months old, 40 pounds … that’s totally normal, yes?


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Speaking of daughters (we were, weren’t we?), we’re back down to only one at home.

For a season.

But, still.

There’s a lot of testosterone in this house. A lot of “It’s a sword!” and “Watch me jump off this, Momma!” and “Can I get a bandaid? I slipped with the hatchet.” (Whaaaaaaaaaa?)

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Raising our Daughters

One thing we have a lot of here is boys.

Teenage boys who stay up late to debate the tenets of our electoral system. Middle boys who think not in words or images, but Legos. Preschool boys who are pretty sure that their Daddy should wear a cape at all times, he’s that cool. And baby boys, who just want to sit in their Momma’s arms and watch the world go by.

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The Scarlet D

I was 15 when my parents divorced; my mother was 38. I remember looking at her one day, shortly after the ink was dry on the papers that severed her legal ties to my father, and thinking, “She’s so old now. Her life is over,” because those are the things you think about your parents when you are in your mid-teens and haven’t yet found the wisdom that will (hopefully) make 38 your half-way point, not your end.

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