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Done. With. Diapers.

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The Bloggy Mommy

Faith

The Goodness of God

Our son, Ben, graduated from the West Point Prep School last weekend (USMAPS). 

Being the practical mom that I am, I am inclined to hop in the car with the Captain for a simple trip where just the two of us run up to attend the festivities and bring him home.  But, as his nickname implies, Captain Fun wanted to take the crew along. (Family fun would be scarce without him, I know.) 

We took all who were available and could afford to miss a few days of school--the four youngest kids and Grandma.

Done. With. Diapers.

I can't stop talking about it.  I called my sisters.  I called my friends.  I Facebooked it,  Tweeted it, and told anyone who would listen.  I was just barely able to resist putting the news on my Linked In page, which seemed a bit unprofessional.  

I started changing diapers in 1987. And this is 2015. 

Twenty. Eight. Years.   

Done. With. Diapers. 

As you know, my husband and I have chosen to accept all the children the Lord sends.  Consequently, we have had constant simultaneous seasons at our house all these years, each requiring a sense of humor.

Guest Blogger: The Scholarship Diva

What a privilege to speak to Grove Avenue Baptist Home Educators at their annual Mother Daughter Tea last Friday night.  The theme was "You Are Beautifully Made in the Image of God" and I talked about Hannah and her relationship with her husband, her rival, her enemy and her God.  It is straight from I Samuel chapter one if you care to look it up. The best part was I was able to bring three of my daughters and Mom Dot along.  




Mary, me, Emma and Dorothy at the tea.  (Mom Dot is camera shy but we tried to get her into the picture.

There It Is.

Sitting in church last Sunday, I inspected our seats to see if eight of the ten kids had arrived. (Hope was in the nursery, and our oldest and his wife are still sparring with winter in frozen North Dakota.)  One, two, three....six, seven, eight. My eyes followed to the end where Captain Fun, my husband of 28 years, finished off the row.  Every single chair was occupied by a Sims.  

Suddenly, I was struck with the wonder of it: There it is. What I have wanted since I was nine years old.

A Good Shot

"Mom," Silas said last week when he came home from school, "there is a mean kid in my class, and I'm trying to hold up my shield of faith but he sure is a good shot."

What a simple reminder to make sure I put on my own armor every day.  After all, if my seven-year-old second grader can have the presence of mind to be thinking in the spirit realm when someone is unkind, so should I. 

"Put on the whole armor of God," the apostle Paul admonishes in Ephesians chapter 6, "that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.
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