Category Archives: Intentional Parenting

remember your death. 2

We had some snow and sleet on Monday evening, and temperatures have been so cold that things remain closed and cancelled, including last night’s Ash Wednesday service. Atticus has been enthusiastic about Ash Wednesday for the past few weeks (I would say “oddly enthusiastic” but he is my kid so I am raising him to […]

been talking ’bout the way things change. 0

One night this summer, Atticus stayed at my mom’s house overnight so Mike and I could have a date night, which ended up being an early dinner so we could come home to watch House of Cards. (We are very exciting people.) When Atticus wanted to Facetime with us, we agreed, but it turned out […]

the world cup at our house. 0

I never updated about how Atticus’s soccer season went, and that is because it was bad. He did okay, for the most part, but he is stubborn and a little bit nervous around crowds. I think that even if he had had a coach who was good with his age group and who had shown […]

moral monday 2.0 0

I went to Moral Monday this week. There were lots of television cameras, and the reporters kept asking the participants why they were there. I studiously avoided them all because the idea of me breaking into tears while trying to explain that I want a better world for my son was beyond embarrassing. But I […]

on motherhood. 0

Yesterday I spent a good chunk of time weeding a bed in front of our house and placing bricks around the edge. Then we had a giant thunderstorm and it flooded. After the skies cleared, Atticus in all his wisdom decided to move all my carefully placed bricks into the mud and throw some of […]

a letter to atticus about world vision. 0

When there are difficult things to talk about, I find that it’s easier if I think about what I would want to say to Atticus. So I’m breaking out the old-school letter to clarify a few things for myself. This is my attempt to explain why things have been a little quiet here the past […]

the walk of shame. 9

When I was pregnant with Atticus, I felt close to Mother Mary, she who had walked those same steps (or rode them on a donkey, if you prefer). But I am not finding a lot of biblical models for parenting a toddler. There’s Hannah, who dropped her toddler off with Eli and went home to […]

reading the bible with my toddler: casting pearls before swine. 0

Verily, I say unto you, cast not your hotwheels on the floor lest your father trample them with his feet and turn around and tear you to pieces. –The Book of Atticus I’m afraid I’m not very good at playing, even with kids I like quite a lot, so I have worried that playing with […]

saving my life: now I am three. 3

I’m afraid that I don’t often veer from the formula of vaguely talking about some difficulty we are experiencing with Atticus (read: stubbornness, always with the stubbornness) and then bringing it back around to how amazing he is. Part of that is a conscious choice to tell my story and not my child’s. I read […]

the brave little toddler. 7

Our group moved from house to house as the toddlers excitedly took in each step of trick-or-treating. Yes, we can stay outside even though it’s dark. Yes, you can run through the leaves. Yes, if a house has a light on, we can go there. Yes, if you ask really nicely, they might give you […]

as the laundry spins. 0

How many do we have for tomorrow? Do we have enough velcro? Will the daycare ladies be mad if we have to send snaps? If I start the load now, can Mike put it in the dryer before he goes to bed? This is what it’s like inside the head of a working mom who […]

wonder woman. 9

As a child, I had a vague feeling that some of the women in my life were kind of pushy about Wonder Woman. They really liked Wonder Woman. I liked her, too, but I preferred The Greatest American Hero because I related to how normal he is. And I didn’t want to like Wonder Woman […]

salvation song. 1

Mike had jury duty on Monday. Let me pause here for a minute and say that I would be an excellent juror and I am not sure why I never get called for jury duty. Possibly it is because I am a little overeager. Pick me, pick me! I was obviously jealous of Mike, although […]

on being a bell. 2

Atticus tells stories now, complicated narratives about his trucks that usually end AND THEN THEY CRASHED! I try to understand them, but they seem to make sense only in his head, at least from the details I can hear. They pulled on the rope! We are coming to save you! There goes the fire truck! […]

the winding path (or, why I don’t want an accelerated faith). 6

Teacher meetings are full of words like gamification, personalized learning, remediation, and flipped classrooms, but we hardly ever take the time to think about what these words convey to ourselves or to others. Recently a coworker pointed out that we talk about students who are “accelerated” but that the problem with that word is that […]

these are the days. 5

(Exactly when did my kid get so big?) As for me and my house, we are devoted to the Miracle Blanket. Amen. When new parents ask what our must-have baby items are, Mike and I trip over each other to sing its praises and the praises of swaddling in general. Atticus was definitely a baby […]

reckless trust. 1

Where are we going, Mama? Where ARE we going, Atticus? To the library! That’s right! Atticus is in a phase where he asks questions that he already knows the answers to. Here’s a random sampling: What are you doing, Mama? What’s in your mouth? What’s that noise? Where’s Daddy? Librarians patiently answer the same questions […]

every motion and joint of your body. 2

We have been trying this new thing where we take Atticus into church with us. It’s been successful as far as church services with a two-year-old go. He is suddenly able to sit with us and play quietly for part of the time, and he likes the music. Plus, he gets to take communion and […]

the practice of the presence (of me). 3

“homage to my hips” by Lucille Clifton these hips are big hips. they need space to move around in. they don’t fit into little petty places. these hips are free hips. they don’t like to be held back. these hips have never been enslaved, they go where they want to go they do what they […]

in love’s name. 0

“The Gift” by Louise Glück Lord. You may not recognize me speaking for someone else. I have a son. He is so little, so ignorant. He likes to stand at the screen door, calling oggie, oggie, entering language, and sometimes a dog will stop and come up the walk, perhaps accidentally. May he believe this […]