Over the weekend, I camped out for several hours in Panera working on a project I'd been contracted to write. It was a busy afternoon, and the tables were almost full, but luckily, I snagged one right by the window. I'm not a people watcher by nature, but I did see two women around my age sitting across from me having lunch together and enjoying a conversation. As they finished their meal, I heard one woman say to another, "I could stay here all day and talk with you, but I know you have a busy . . .
Over the past few weeks I've found myself in tears and, y'all, I'm not a cryer. Just ask my best friends and they'll tell you I'm about as stoic as they come. But I've been thinking a lot lately about justice, about suffering, and about what it means to love well those who are hurting. A few days ago, I was rummaging around in my attic looking for the Halloween decorations and I found an old Christmas mantle piece that said Believe (yes, we mix our holidays together in the same box). Believe. . . .
I'm gonna go ahead and say that I think October is the busiest month of the year. Even more so than December, guys. At least at the holidays, people expect you to be spending time with your family or traveling, but in October, all bets are off. Attend this workshop, enjoy this autumnal hike, go to that field trip, participate in this sports tournament. ALL GOOD THINGS. But October is the month I have to lovingly remind myself to check my priorities, unravel busy, and try not to miss the beauty . . .
For months—no, years now—my hubby has been inviting us to accompany him on his business trips. I've taken advantage of a few with him sans children, but we've never gone beyond a DC trip with the whole family. So, a few weeks ago when he mentioned a 5-day jaunt to New York City, I began to imagine what it would look like to take the kids. After all, the hotel would be free so it seemed a good time to go. As the date got closer, a little, annoying thing called Hurricane Florence began to threaten . . .
This summer, we heard a piece on the Today show about the looming extinction of the middle child in America. That sounds a bit dramatic, but here's the statistic. According to a study by the Pew Research Center in 1976, “the average mother at the end of her childbearing years had given birth to more than three children.” Back then, 40 percent of mothers between 40 and 44 had four or more children. Twenty-five percent had three kids; 24 percent had two; and 11 percent had one. Today, those . . .