There are very few absolutes can apply to everyone when it comes to parenting. Or maybe I just haven’t been a parent long enough to discover more than a few, like the fact that you can put a toddler on the potty, but you can’t make them go.
I have never known church without female leadership. Never. I had the luck to be born into a church that affirmed the role of women in the church way back when it was not just uncommon, but downright scandalous. And yet—it thrived. More than 50 years on, my church is still out there being the hands and feet of God in the world where it can.
I have a love/hate relationship with Halloween. I love seeing all the kids dressed up, but I hate having to cobble together costumes. I love the fun of all the Halloween events, but I hate that there are 100 of them packed into a month.
My high school reunion is this weekend. We are the class of 1999 and even 20 years later I still enjoy a juvenile spark of boastful pride at the thought of the classes close to us in age being a little jealous that we had the coolest graduation anthem, thanks to Prince.
I recently needed a new cell phone case and stopped by the Apple Store planning to grab a new version of the same one I have. It’s solid light blue with a clear back—nothing fancy, but did a good job protecting my phone from the abuse inflicted on it by my children and myself.
I was working on my last article in The Living Room at Cultivation Food Hall last week and noticed two women visiting over coffee across the room. They were in their late 20s and one had her baby with her. The baby was still in a car seat carrier, probably around six months old. The other woman had a tiny baby bump and a notepad.
When I was in seventh grade and my middle sister, Katie, was in fifth grade, my parents had a new baby girl. My parents referred to Alex as our ‘unexpected joy.’ And, for the most part, she has been. I have some friends whose youngest child is, or will be, much younger than their next oldest child.