Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

Saturday smiles

Saturday smiles: Words and heroes edition

A book sale with 40,000 used books. Sounds delightful, right? And, oh, it was. For the most part. Somewhat overwhelming, but we walked away with a box of books for $15. If we go back today, it’s $10 a box, but that might be excessive. (As if buying a box of books when you haven’t fully unpacked the boxes of books in your new house isn’t already excessive. Don’t judge us. We’re book nerds.)

Also, this.

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I got copies of the Thriving Family edition in which my first of three articles appears. Name in print=giddiness. (If you get the magazine, I’m on page 27.)

Tomorrow, Phil and I are heading to Philly to catch a Phillies game so he can cross another stadium off his list and buy a shirt to add to his collection. Last night he informed me that the new interim manager of the Phillies is Ryne Sandburg. (SHRIEK!) Because the only thing that could make sitting in a stadium watching a baseball game between two teams you care nothing about is sitting in the same stadium as one of your childhood baseball heroes. I mean, he won’t know I’m there or anything, but that might be enough reason to wear a Cubs shirt and shout obnoxiously. (Of course, if you know me at all, you’ll know that either of those things would bring WAY too much attention to me so it won’t happen.)

And in the last two days, I’ve seen 6 hot air balloons in the sky. I love hot air balloons.

We’re headed to a missions aviation fair today at a local airport. Looking forward to seeing the kids’ reactions to planes up close.

Saturday smiles: Rise and shine edition

A morning in our house. All times are approximate.

5:35 a.m.: Boy child walks into bedroom. “Mommy, I need breakast.” (He leaves off the “f.”)

5:37 a.m.: Mom staggers to the kitchen, blindly grabs a box of Life cereal and a bowl, pours cereal and milk, offers a spoon to boy child, who evenly distributes his cereal into the milk. Mom smiles at his preciseness then staggers back to bed.

5:45 a.m.: Boy child wanders back in to bedroom. “Mommy, I need more.”

5:46 a.m.: Mom shuffles back out to the kitchen, refills the cereal bowl with Life and milk. Back to bed.

5:50 a.m.: Boy child returns with whine in his tone. “Mommy, you gave me too much!” Dad intervenes and asks if boy child would like to crawl into bed with Mommy while Dad gets ready for work. Boy child crawls into bed. “On Dad’s side!”

6:10 a.m.: Mom sneaks a peek at boy child, who has gotten quiet. His eyes are closing and opening slowly. Mom wonders if maybe a few more minutes of sleep are in the cards.

6:12 a.m.: Boy child rolls over, points a finger at Mommy’s nose and says sweetly, “Hi, Mommy.” He repeats this three times, each time getting closer to sticking his finger up Mommy’s nose.

6:15 a.m.: Boy child is fully awake and begins rolling around on his side of the bed. “Stinky feet for breakfast!” he giggles as he puts his feet in Mom’s face. Mom pretends to sleep, to no avail.

Sometime between 6:15 a.m. and 6:30 a.m.: The girl child has awakened, used the potty and is changing the toilet paper roll. She brings it to the bedroom as an offering, having told her Dad, “It’s never been this hard for me.”

By 6:30 a.m. we are all out of bed, gathering in the kitchen. The girl child is slathering cream cheese on her mini-bagels. The boy child insists he’s still hungry. Dad is eating breakfast. Mom is in desperate need of a shower.

6:50 a.m.: The coffee’s on. The kids are fed. Dad is almost out the door. Now it’s only 12 hours till bedtime. And you wonder why I drink coffee?

keep calm and drink coffee