Waiting Area E

Yesterday seemed like a day full of waiting. Have you ever had one of those days? It seems like you get every red light even when there are only four, every long line stuck behind the avid price-matcher, every chatty and slow moving cashier, every person actually driving the speed limit, and right now, every major intersection seems to have a massive construction project happening. That was my yesterday.

Then there was the almost three hour wait at Prism Eye Institute where my son and I sat in Waiting Area E only to find out he didn’t need the procedure he took the day off work for and we had driven all the way there for. 

The whole day felt like waiting.

While sitting in Waiting Area E, I could sense the frustration settling in at about the 2 hour mark. My son had had 2 sets of eye drops, his pupils pushing out the deep brown of each iris in preparation for the doctor to look at his retina with an excruciatingly bright light. We muttered to each other, wondering if they had forgotten us…

Who Is In Your Mom Tribe?

Last weekend I participated in one of the many mom-rituals that happen this time of year - I dropped off my boys to summer camp. For a little more than a decade of summers, we have been packing the suitcases with shorts and shirts and bathing suits and Bibles and journals and bug spray and sunscreen. Don't forget the hats, sleeping bags and pillows, baseball gloves and frisbees, bug nets, towels, and extra socks, most of which return unworn but still needing to be washed.

As I was waiting in line to register my 16 year old for the Leaders In Training program, I looked across the room. I saw familiar faces in the crowd. But these weren't just any faces. 
They were faces of mom-friends that I have loved over the years, and they were faces of boys-becoming-men that I watched grow up. These faces that were once pudgy and pink and ice cream covered running around my backyard, are now on the brink of manhood, standing tall and towering over their mothers, shaking peoples hands, their …

{Days 5&6} On Being Circumloquaciously Wordy

It was 1996 and my husband and I had decided to go to Canada's Wonderland. We had just recently been married and were feeling young and free. In hindsight, this feeling was true: we were certainly young and we were mostly free of the responsibilities that were yet to come with jobs and mortgages and marriage and children. In all honesty, our motivation for going to Wonderland this particular day was to see a singer/songwriter friend of mine who was performing there. I had not seen her in years; the last time I saw her she was the girlfriend of my Youth Pastor and we both lived in British Columbia. Now we were both married, and she still lived in British Columbia but I lived in Ontario. I had much respect for her when I was a teenager, and so my desire to see her live in concert was driving this trip to Wonderland.

I honestly do not remember much of the rides, the food, the weather, how our day went, the specific events of the day. What I do remember is one phrase that she said in …

{Days 3&4} Flow & Idea

I had a lot to do tonight, but none of it included rescuing an injured turtle, making cookies, or wearing a Carolina Hurricanes jersey.

And yet all of those things happened, disrupting my plans for the night.

Sometimes things don't do quite as we plan. At then end of my work day, a friend sent me a text and asked me if my son would like to go out tonight with her kids. He sure would! (Even though I didn't ask him first). Then my mind went to making plans for my quiet night, at home, by myself. There was so much I could do.

But rescuing a turtle, making cookies and wearing a Carolina Hurricanes jersey was not on my radar. At all.

Sometimes our flow and our ideas are interrupted. We plan for one thing, expect one thing, anticipate one thing and yet something different happens. A phone call, a friend, a child, an animal, a need - there are a thousand things that could possibly come to interrupt our plans. And these interruptions  can be frustrating if we don't allow ourselves…

{Day 2} Mantra

Honestly, I had to look up the definition of "mantra" to see exactly what this was about. It is "a statement or slogan repeated frequently" according to the every helpful

I wasn't sure how I was going to tackle this word. Did I have a mantra? Have I ever had a mantra? I let that question sit with me all day, let it ruminate in my soul to see where it landed. I decided that whatever my mantra might be had to reflect my belief, my faith, my heart, and ultimately my life. I chose this verse, which beautifully sums up what I believe my mantra would be, if indeed I had one.

"Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." Phil 4:8

Think about such things. Write about such things. This verse does not just mean the good and the beautiful and the perfect, but it also speaks to how th…

{Day 1} Start

Just start.

Starting can be the hardest part of any new choice, new opportunity, new beginning. For me, this new start is kind of like a restart. This journey into the world of writing and words and's scary, it's overwhelming, it's exciting. I looked back to realize I posted my first blog post in 2010. Sigh...

I quite "accidentally" stumbled upon hope*Writers Instagram post which placed a challenge before inspiring writers. It is a 12 Day challenge to write using the writing prompt posted. I'm not sure why I thought this would be a good idea. I don't think I actually thought the whole thing through very well. But I wrote my post and put it out there for all to see. And it was all I could do to not take it down. I wanted to hit the delete button and pretend it didn't happen. I wanted to hide, and I certainly hoped that people wouldn't actually read it.

Why did I do this? Why is this out there for people to read and follow along? Can'…

Road Trippin'

I just finished up 10 days of driving and living within the confines of my minivan with my 4 boys + husband. Big, scruffy, hungry boys. Boys who I’m sure are messier and dirtier and stinkier than I raised them to be. What ever happened? Clothes and underwear and toothpaste and headphones and books and games and hats and wrappers and cups and Kleenexes everywhere. Everywhere. Our van smells like Subway meets Chipotle + 8 stinky feet. We shared the seats in the van for 50 hours, shared one hotel room for too many days, shared the ransacked food in the cooler jammed between the back seats. 
But worst of all, we shared the same toilet. If ever I was to wonder where my parenting went bad, I need only to look at the shared toilet. Were they raised in a barn? Hit the water, not the seat my boys! In fact, just because you CAN stand up to pee doesn't mean you SHOULD. Have a seat. On the throne. It's better for all of us. 
And best of all, we shared the same moments. These moments crea…