Extraordinary Life

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I can’t exactly call him the unsung hero because (when it comes to his wife anyway) he’s been “sung” plenty of times, but he’s a hero nonetheless, and it’s almost Father’s Day. I’ve been wanting to do a “husband appreciation” post for a while now, and what better time than Father's Day weekend.

I’m always thankful for my husband. Anyone reading here knows that. But I am more thankful than maybe I’ve ever been this postpartum season.

He's stepped up after every baby is born . . . to take care of the house, and the baby, and me. This time seemed extra involved though. ...continue reading →

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I enjoyed my children today.

I did not enjoy them yesterday.

(Such declarations paint our days in too broad of strokes, but you get the idea.)

I thought about posting this picture with the caption, “Three is so cute, but so hard. Three is so hard, but so cute.” And possibly going into detail about how both phrases capture differently the same sentiment. Cute but hard leaves you with a negative connotation. Hard but cute leaves you with a positive one.

Anyway.

I didn’t, and I’m glad I didn’t because it’s the perfect cover photo for a blog post about how I did not enjoy my children one day and how I did enjoy them the next. ...continue reading →

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There’s a little boy in my house who loves to play with construction equipment. He plays and plays and plays, be it with semis and trailers or excavators and dump trucks. Half of my dining table is almost always occupied with a scattering of machinery, big and small.

All this usage, and the little boy being only two years old, makes for toys that get broken and battered and eventually unusable. His very first favorite construction toy was a little yellow excavator. Even when one of the wheels fell off and the boom went limp, he had to have that toy every single day. It eventually went the way of all toys, and other excavators came along. But one by one, they, too, got lost or broken, and finally all he had left was a Lego excavator that kept falling apart.

Oh, he had plenty of other construction toys, but the semis were all missing wheels, and the dump trucks had dried out Playdough stuck in their cabs (if they even still had a cab), and the trailers didn’t hitch up to the semis very well anymore, and . . . despite all that, he faithfully played with his toys.

Then one day I heard this contented and happy little boy say very quietly and wistfully, “I wish I had a skidsteer.” ...continue reading →