Graffiti Editor

On a shed down the alley:

It wasn’t me.

 

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Funk

I’m quiet lately, and it’s mostly because I’m still trying to wake up from last weekend. We had a sleepover to plan the MOPs year. It was supposed to be held in a little cabin by the lake, but it turned out to be a luxury condo by the golf course. With a jacuzzi tub. And in true mother-of-preschoolers style, we never even had time for baths. But we did consume a smorgasbord of enchiladas and baked goods and a cheese ball and several pots of Double Bergamot Earl Grey by Stash (so good!). And I got to know some very cool women, who happen to be very committed to the mission of MOPs and talented at organizing, writing, and planning, and fun to hang out with, too.

The rest of the weekend was constant guilt and irritation, probably due to sleep deprivation. It may also have to do with changes that naturally occur with summertime and life in general. God is shaking things up at the church plant again; Jason’s job might move us to the bigger town down the hill; and the kids are starting to have lives outside the house, which means the schedule is more full than I’d like. So lately I’m in a constant glassy-eyed state of wondering what I’m supposed to do differently and struggling to stay focused on what’s really important.

So that’s where I am today. It’s not very exciting. Kind of Eeyore, actually.

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Snooty

Anna had a little nosebleed today.

Jonah said, “I don’t have a nosebleed. I have snot.”

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