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It’s Beginning to Look a lot Like Chaos: 4 Ways I Fight the Christmas Crazy
If you’re anything like me, you would rather not be found sitting in a corner on Christmas morning, sucking on candy cane plastic and rocking to the beat of Santa Baby. I know if I run at the normal American pace though, I’ll be up wrapping gifts till three in the morning and sliding into Christmas slightly bitter and more coo-coo than ever. So I made some new choices this year. Not everyone will like all of them, but when I went back to work I think I added a bit of “I care less about what people think” to my résumé. I often describe this season as organized chaos.…
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Simple Steps to Finally Get Rid of Those Boxes
This one might strike a nerve, amigos. Or three. But since I can’t see you and you can’t reach me… we gonna get down the nitty-gritty of our containers. Yes, those containers. His, hers, mine and yours. The cardboard boxes… the plastic bins… the forgotten… the ignored… all of it. So here’s the question on the awkward table between us: If God impressed upon your heart a move—across town, across the country, to another country—how soon could you pack up and get out? I don’t want to be known for my stuff. But if I’m in a constant state of avoiding piles, adding more boxes to the rafters and…
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The Secret Society of Christmas Anxiety: How to Calm the Expectations
No pressure, but have you poured your own candles with beeswax from your backyard colony yet? …gotten your hollyhock dipped and your mattress flipped? …added plumbing to your gingerbread house? …drained your hot tub and refilled it with mulled cider, orange slices and cinnamon sticks? Is there a wreath on your grill and a candle on your sill? …gold glitter on your babysitter? …a candy cane on your windowpane? …jingle bells on your dusted shelves? Good tidings, no. Martha Stewart’s still alive and well, but let’s all give an eight-clap to the fact we don’t live in the ‘90s anymore. If she wants to stencil her driveway, God bless…
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Stress: Top 5 Factors for Kids and Adults
Psychologists say the most stressful changes for children are (in no particular order) moving, divorce, losing a pet, death of a parent and death of a sibling. And for adults? According to Health Status, the top five include moving, divorce, major illness, job loss and death of a loved one. Since moving is one of the highest stressors no matter your age, we know our whole family sits on the brink of needing to breathe into paper bags while counting to nine in Danish. Not really. But maybe. Even if you’re only moving down the street, you still need to empty cupboards, pack boxes, and then unpack in a new, unfamiliar…
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In the Eye of the Swarm: Learning Patience While Waiting for Everything to Change
They come in near silence, minding their business and ready to work. They never need blueprints, complain of the load or ask for time off. Their days are long and full of physical labor. They don’t work for the weekend; the word itself does not exist in their world. They are not lazy, selfish or greedy. They toil as a team with their boss in mind; everything exists for her. But amidst their fantastic attributes, they are squatters by nature. They move in without asking, build without permits, and defend their stolen property with a vengeance. So who do you call when they join forces, come out swinging, and threaten…
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My Vacuum Sucks
“I thrive in chaos!” my friend declared. I never felt it before, but all of a sudden I found myself wanting to be like her. The concept sounded cool and edgy, while my friend seemed like the ultimate juggler. Wonder Woman of the 21st Century. Multitasker extraordinaire. Her home sat in the middle of a large Mexican ministry; people came in and out all day. The door continuously flung open to a barking dog while she hand-dipped dark chocolate almonds with sea salt, helped her homeschooled kids with math, and produced whispy letters on her Cricut. Scrapbooks and handmade cards littered her table, and I sat as a spectator… sampling almonds,…
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Easter Fail
I knew he was familiar with the Easter story, but I had never heard our seven-year-old try to re-tell it on his own. We only read the full account of Jesus’ death and resurrection once a year; I expected him to get a couple details wrong. Pride welled when he began. Then perfectionism kicked in and disappointment welled when he continued. Not disappointment in my boy—in me and my parenting skills. We use a visual aid called Resurrection Eggs and the carton contains a dozen plastic eggs, each one containing an object to help convey the meaning of Easter. For example, in the orange egg you’ll find praying hands, and the…
