We fall asleep reading the classics at our house. Why this matters may make more sense if you keep reading.
I’m in a little tussle with my school district right now.
The way it stands, I provided the same end-of-year information in 2018 to my school district as I did the year before, and this time, they said it wasn’t enough.
What’s your position on advice? What counts as advice? Do you find yourself peddling your life experience from time to time? Often? Rarely?
I’ve been thinking about this since this past fall. I got home from my trip, brain freshly scrubbed. I wanted everyone to know about my experience. How could I be true to myself and not talk about it?
And then my inner voice shot back, but you should feel that way about Jesus.
Good Friday. The two challenging kids who are usually in school were home. I was scheduled for a night shift. I was dreading the anticipated lost sleep that night, and wondering how I was going to get through the next week with all my little kids home, my oldest home, and my two big girls away visiting family friends.
Pictured above, the scene of the crime. We don’t co-sleep with the baby, but I added him to make the scene feel less threatening.
Towards the end of this past summer, I got a weighted blanket. It was around the same time I saw that guy with the weighted vest and wondered why anyone would add to the weight they were carrying, metaphorically OR physically. But anxiety was kicking my butt and I was exhausted at night, but often crawling up the walls.
If you’re familiar with weighted blankets, you’ll know they aren’t cheap, which is why I had one on my wish list for a very long time before clicking purchase. They differ from comforters and duvets – they are smaller and come in a range of weights. There is info online to help you calculate how much weight you need depending on your size.
I went whole hog with a 20-pound blanket. I thought I would get the full size, which would just cover the top of our queen mattress with no overhang, and that the Chaplain and I could share it.
I have a theory about preparing for disaster when traveling with kids: Whatever you are prepared for, that isn’t the disaster that will happen.
I’d rather pack light and have my hands free to deal with whatever comes my way, than to have neatly packed baggies with special treats, toys to give my kids on the plane, and a fresh change of clothes for everyone. Bare essentials for a five-hour flight?
