My Kids are Awesome

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This is Chloe schooling her Old Testament teacher in a game of chess last weekend. This is her Old Testament teacher trying to to redeem himself with a second game. This is me grinning.

The Snow Must Go On

Nope, not a weather report, unfortunately. If I were giving a weather report, I'd be telling you about all our preparations for in case one of the predicted tornadoes actually hits our house. As it is, we spent a good chunk of the day watching twister movies/documentaries in an attempt to freak ourselves out. It's worked.

No, The Snow Must Go On refers to the logic school drama class play last night.

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It was an unusual play and a lot of it was actually written by the students.

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It was a murder mystery of sorts. It had dwarves. And zombies.

Did I mention the logic school portion of this production? Aka: jr. high-ish age?

Pretty funny.

And now we go back to waiting out the tornado. Hope to see you again soon!

On redeeming brokenness

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For all of our protective packaging, some of us just arrive broken wherever it is we’re going. Often it isn’t really our fault; it’s just the way it goes sometimes. Maybe you were dropped by UPS or maybe you had a bad run-in with the muffin pan taking the ride alongside you. Whatever the cause, the result is the same. Broken. In need of help. In need of renewal.

I read a lot of things on the internet as an escape from what my own reality at any given moment might be. But here’s the truth – many thoughts that are prevalant on the internet don’t actually help me. So much perfection. So much expertise. So much game face. So much. All the time.

I will start to write something, but quickly realize I don’t have a perfect perspective on whatever it is I’m about to say, so I just don’t say anything at all. I don’t have an expert take on raising tweens. My game face is pretty much reserved for Cardinals baseball and we left that behind almost a year ago.

But right now I do feel compelled to say something. Something a little messy. You ready?

Last Saturday I asked a gal to come clean my house for me. You want to know how that feels to me? It feels like complete and utter failure. I’m a stay-at-home mom, for crying out loud. I should be able to get the toilets clean once/week.

But I don’t.

So I swallowed my very dusty pride and gave her a call. She’s in a tough spot and I know she needs the money. I’m in a unique spot and can earn some money by writing some compensated posts (I know…ugg). Seems like we can help each other out a bit here. Maybe redeem a little of the brokenness in each other.

My 13yo is struggling with math again. Her lessons are reaching right at the point that I’m having a difficult time helping her. I suggested on Monday that we call a tutor for help. She did not want to do that. Her pride is apparently a function of x in which x looks an awful lot like me.

I called the tutor anyway. The tutor helped. A lot. On Wednesday when M13 struggled again, she came to me and suggested that maybe it would be good to have the tutor enter into our lives on a weekly basis. I concurred. The tutor is gifted in math and we’re in need of some math redemption in our lives here.

And once again I’m realizing that for all of our “I DO IT MYSELF” mentality, we really do function as a community and we need others in our lives. Sometimes involving others in our lives means involving ourselves in theirs as well.

I’m not really sure where I’m going with this right now other than to say that I want to be real with you. I want to be awesome and perfect and skinny and witty and home-magazine snazzy for you, but the truth is that I had to hire a cleaning lady to help me keep my head above water.

And as much as I balked at doing that on the front end, I have no regrets right now. Maybe this whole dusting off our pride thing really isn’t so bad after all.

I’m getting ready to go party with a bunch of 3rd graders, Easter style, so I’ll leave you with my online therapist, Sara Groves.

Hope you’re having an honest spring.