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A Mother's New Year Resolutions

Some old, some new, but here they are--

A Mother's New Year Resolutions. 


I will not scold happy noise. 

I will use the TV as a babysitter-- rarely and as if it costs $10 an hour. 

I will give my kids a 1970's summer. 

I will, without apology, be the nutrition, grammar, hygiene, wardrobe, curfew and screen police. 

I will, without apology, require uncompensated help around the house. It's called being part of a family. 

I will, without apology, put my husband's and children's ambitions before my own.

From Open House to Open Mike

"The only thing that doesn't change is change," my oldest son once said.  If changing traditions is hard for you to embrace, here's one way to take the sting out of the inevitable. This piece appears in this month's Memphis Parent.  

Being the youngest of eight, my Christmas traditions have always been packed with people.  Now, as the mother of ten, the holidays still call for a crowd.  If I ever meet a lonely Christmas, I suspect I will have to find the nearest throng and join in.

Just Right.


This year flew by, more than one of my daughters confirmed as we were cooking together today. 

Thanksgiving dinner is now in the books, and the dishes are in the dishwasher, thanks to the men of the family (it's what they do after the women cook all morning).

Maybe that is why I am thinking in list form today--the pressing feeling to get my shopping done (but don't worry, I am not a T-Day shopper). 

Here's my Thanksgiving list, though, that can be broken down into three parts, kind of like in Goldilocks:  Too Much.

A Summer of Passages

I hope you have noticed that I have been MIA this summer.  It has been a summer of passages, and I have been trying to wrap my mind (and heart) around it.  I have attempte to blog about each separate summer passage, but words escaped me (this is a rare occurrence).  Today, on this official last day of summer, I will take one more stab at wrapping it all into one blog.

Not long after school dismissed, my kids began visiting their oldest brother, Tiger, (who gets the Oldest Brother Award).

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.
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