This morning we were having a discussion about why two of my kids have to brush their hair in the morning,
but one does not
(the fact that the no-brush kid has to douse his head in water each day didn't enter the "it's not fair"-kids' train of thought).
I thought a visual demonstration might help explain the difference to my children.

Here is what happens when the no-brush kid brushes:
"So you see, kids, life just isn't fair. Now go brush your hair."
And then the two brushed happily, while the one tamed the mane.
And we were all laughing.

 
 
I got to spend the majority of my day with a little boy who's just 6 weeks younger than Jeremiah.

Drool. Diapers. Worries about electrical cords and outlets.

Giggles, smiles, and a squishy little guy in my arms.


Giant SIGH.

 
 

Some of us are too quick to throw things away.
And then there's DIY Man. 9 years, folks. And I think my husband still shed a tear as he solemnly placed these faithful soles next to the trash can this morning.
May they rest in piece(s).
 
 
Picture
My middle child took great pains today to look like a basketball player. He literally changed outfits all morning trying to find the right ensemble. And in the end, he felt like a superstar.

Which makes me think.

How much time do I spend trying to put everything together - right smile, right clothes, right words - so that I can play the part? Who am I trying to fool, anyway? I don't have my stuff together.  And I certainly don't want to be unapproachable because other people think I do have my stuff together, because I wanted them to think I do, even though I don't.

I want to be me. A mess. A growing, changing, becoming-less-messy mess, but still. A mess, just the same. And I want other people who are messy to know that I'm ok with their mess, and that I'll enter into that with them.

                                           Let's be messy, People. Together.