Friday, December 25, 2015

Happy Christmas!


We are in the midst of a glorious Christmas celebration! It is sad because we miss those who have gone before us, especially Todd's stepdad/my FIL/the kids' beloved grandpa. It is also exciting, as we watch the growth and await the birth of my sister'a baby. It is fun to witness the holiday through children and their new gifts. It is a comforting blessing to honor how and why we are here.


Key West





















Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Building Our House

I read this today and the concept really struck me. Will I ever do it? Probably not... because I'm lazy, non-crafty and, therefore, part of the problem and not the solution. But I LOVE the idea. I really, really love it:

Sunday, December 13, 2015

For the Love of Beary

One thing we are in Krinkeland is relentless. I am not bragging about this; it is definitely a quality I would like to see diminished, but, right now, it's the truth. Tonight, Little One bore the brunt of her older siblings' relentlessness. For some unknown reason (possible reason: kids are morons) two of them decided to gang up on Madeline for being affectionate toward her stuffed animals. They teased and teased and would not let up. She eventually tore away and locked herself and beloved Beary in a closet:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFZ1mi9SlM8

This went on for some time. Wailing. Spelling: "L-O-V-E Y-O-U!" Pledges to elect Beary President. I just stood on the other side of the door and silently bore her anguish (while videotaping it.) After a while, Madeline emerged, asked me another teary question about why the big kids picked on her so much, hugged my legs, took a deep breath and said, "OK, I think I'm gonna be fine now." Then, she an Beary shuffled off to bed.


Saturday, December 12, 2015

Holly, Jolly

I am bustin' with pride for my talented nephews in their musical debut!

Friday, December 11, 2015

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Until It's Too Late

Many, many years ago, I learned the important lesson of never speaking ill of the dead. Recently, the front man for a musical group was found dead on his tour bus here in the Twin Cities area. Frankly, it was one in a string of tragedies, and, since I was never a fan of the band's music, the singer's death did not really have an impact on me. But, this letter, written by the mother of the man's children, does hit hard. I do not believe sharing her words is disrespectful of the man who died... I believe they offer opportunity to anyone who takes them to heart:

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Prayer Requests


For Arnie and his family, as he awaits a heart transplant

For Teri, pressing on with grace in her cancer fight 

Thanksgiving for a friend's answered prayer; she is expecting after eight years of fertility challenges

For continued health and development of my unborn niece or nephew and for the physical and emotional health of my sister, Baby's mother

For return to health for Amanda, as she continues to battle mono

For Dale, recovering from oral cancer surgery; for Chris, receiving therapy for a knee injury and anticipating surgery; for Maia with an infection in her leg-- all in the same family

Thanksgiving for the births of Mikko and Warren late last month

For friendships lost and found

For all widows and widowers facing the holiday season without their beloveds

For all the preborn, whose families await them just as we all await the birth of the infant King

Tuesday, December 1, 2015

Two Can Play that Game

"Hey, Honey, do you know how to run the snowblower?"

(Silence.)

"Honey, have you ever run the snowblower?"

(Silence.)

"Why don't you come out here and I'll teach you how to start the snowblower."

(Silence.)

"You really should know how to run the snowblower, you know."

(Silence.)

"Honey?"

All I can say is: I learned from the master. That is called Beating Him at His Own Game, also referred to as Not Snowblowing.