At dinner each night of November, see if your family can collectively think of 10 more things you’re thankful for. Keep a running list.
2. Turkey day decor.
A vase filled with your list written on slips of paper, or written scrawled on kraft paper doubling as a Thanksgiving tablecloth—complete with Sharpies or crayons prompting guests to add their own.
3. The classic: Thank you notes.
Set a small, doable goal for yourself to send out a certain number of thank-you notes to people who might be a little clueless as to just how much you appreciate them. You might also consider enclosing a small gift card (think Starbucks, Amazon, iTunes) to add an exclamation point to your gratitude.
I could tell you my son has energy. But that would be kind of like me telling you Bill Gates is kind of good at computers.
We’re on a sports rotation at my house. It is not because we love to be busy (we try not to be?), or love getting up on Saturdays for games (nope), or think he’ll be a star someday (odds are pretty slim).read more
So I confess. I’m still totally #oneofthose moms of teen boys and a preteen girl, asking the boys to hold open the door for females, or help carry heavy stuff.
Maybe I’ve watched Kate and Leopold too many times? Or maybe I just think there’s something good about mutual regard–and about typically “stronger” parties using their strength to serve.read more
So I wrote you recently how a podcast had opened my eyes to all those Hollywood writers (whose techniques, as a writer, I thought I was studying, but who suck me in just the same).
If there’s any possible time when my husband doesn’t respond to me like a guy in the movies, I’m pretty sure it’s me, and my subpar level of attractiveness.read more
Anyone else feel like they’re constantly fighting the tide of tech in their homes?
No, I don’t want my kids to arrive at college like a bat out of you-know-where. I want them to know how to responsibly handle tech as a tool for growth and entertainment. But this also means my husband and I are constantly seeking to add to our wisdom about protecting them.read more
I woke early on Easter morning. It was not the kind of, “Oh! I get, like, an hour more of sleep! I love this feeling!” But more, “Hey, there is absolutely no one else up! Listen. Hear that? It’s the sound of NOTHING. I think I will wake up and enjoy it.” This was before I knew the kids drank the last of the milk = no coffee for me.
Maybe because the light in our bedroom felt hopeful and springtime-ish–and because I wanted to make the most of this day–I thought of the light in the garden, that morning Jesus rose. Yes. I am totally #thatmom.read more
I sat at lunch on Sunday with a handful of friends over turkey with homemade gravy and mashed potatoes (“So much for Keto,” mumbled the woman dishing up next to me). Of all things, the topic turned to high school wrestling. Two of the guys next to me had competed in high school.
One of them, Marshall, is 6’3″. In high school, he was upwards of 190 lbs. Maybe that’s why I was surprised at who he said were the most formidable in the sport: The kids from the school for the blind. In fact, one of them was the state champ during Marshall’s years in competition. At the time those students had no other sports other than swimming in which they could compete; baseball, basketball, and football were all out. So they competed year-round.
Even more than that, we all reflected aloud, was a blind wrestler’s exaggerated sense of touch. We’ve all heard that with the loss of one of our senses, our other senses rally to compensate (think of Stevie Wonder or Ray Charles).read more
A few weeks ago, in the middle of this crazy cancer scare, my husband and I went on a date. It was the one where, after Mexican, we had to stop by Walgreens for eyedrops because we were so raw from crying. My heart felt doubled over inside.
But in the restaurant, over bottomless chips and salsa, my husband gently pointed out something in the questions I was asking. He does some conflict coaching and mediation on the side, and explained that our conversation reminded him of listening to two parties in an argument. Often, he can see the perspective of both sides. “But sometimes they would see things differently if they had that graciousness that just greases the wheels of a healthy relationship.” (This is my paraphrase. My brain in that time was a big pot of mashed potatoes.)read more