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Mama's Maxims
There It Is.
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A Whole, Entire, Complete Day Off.
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Mama's Maxims

Around our house, a new year always stirs up talk of new goals.  Here are my goals- some old, some new- for 2015.  

Mama's Maxims

I will not scold happy noise. 

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

I will increase book and board game time and decrease screen time in my home. 

I will not tolerate back talk in any form, includingduh, huh, or a rolling of even half an eyeball.

I'm the mother, I'm the mother, I'm the mother. 

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 Whole, Entire, Complete Day Off.


"What do you want for Mother's Day?" Captain Fun asked me several nights ago after family devotions.  

The answer came easily.  "A whole, entire, complete day off...from Hope."  

I adore Hope.  In fact, the more children I have, the more precious those early childhood years become. But as I told the ladies at Grove Avenue Baptist MOPS this week, I have had a preschooler in some form for 27 years, and sometimes I feel like I am just about to die from exhaustion.

What I Like About You.

Twenty seven years ago today, our first born arrived. It was Easter Sunday, 1987, 10:56 pm,  8 lbs, 8 oz, 20 inches long.  And because he was my first,  I remember like it was yesterday.  But what I remember just as clearly was when we broke the news to our families that he was on the way.

We had been married just six weeks.  Both my parents were still living and family gatherings were frequent. The good ole' days about which Carly Simon sings, no doubt.

The No-Phone Zone

Many, many years ago when my oldest two children were little, we lived on the edge of a cotton field just outside of Memphis.  We had two kids, one car, and few neighbors.  Almost every day I would take the kids on the 3/4 of a mile walk down the gravel road to the mail box in hopes of hearing from the latest editor to whom I had sent a submission.

Life was simple.  Because we had no car during my husband's work hours, there was no where to go; with our very limited budget, there was nothing to buy.
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