Here I am some three years ago, trying to “teach” Orison to sit up.

The first kid is just for practice, right?

1. She loves Jesus.

2. She likes planting trees and flowers.

3. She laughs like a crazy woman at Orison’s goofiness.

4. She tolerates my goofiness.

5. She grieves Felicity openly.

6. She doesn’t begrudge pregnancy.

7. She reads to Orison.

8. She teaches Orison to sound words out.

9. She knows that discipline is loving.

10. She makes plenty of spaghetti plenty often.

11. She freaks out for cream-filled donuts.

12. She supports me (mostly) in whatever this week’s idea is.

13. She brushes Orison’s teeth more carefully than I do.

14. She’s undecided about how we’ll school our kids.

15. She always puts my hand on her tummy when she’s pregnant.

16. She doesn’t undermine me with Orison even when I’m disappointing.

17. She happily postpones her fantasy minivan.

18. She washes the dishes and picks up all the time.

19. She does our family paperwork perfectly and without complaint.

20. She comes home from errands with presents.

21. She knits us slippers, booties, scarves, sweaters, mittens, socks, and hats.

22. She sings constantly.

1. She loves Jesus.

2. She loves my dad.

3. She’s always happy to see us show up randomly and maybe raid the fridge.

4. She offers advice when asked.

5. She offers advice only when asked.

6. She doesn’t guilt-trip.

7. She loves taking and sharing pictures.

8. She can’t help buying little things for preborn grandkids.

9. She adopted my favorite sister.

10. She prays for us every day.

11. She’s thrifty.

12. She always strives to be a better parent (though she’s as good as they come).

13. She watches Orison at a moment’s notice.

14. She crocheted Felicity a blanket that wouldn’t get used and gave it to us anyway.

15. She’s always on my dad’s side as far as I can tell.

16. She sort of squeals when she finds out about a new grandkid.

17. She doesn’t look down on us when we make decisions she wouldn’t.

18. She corrects my grammar (too strictly sometimes, but oh well).

19. There’s always room for one more at her table.

20. She calls when Orison should quick come over to see the men using chainsaws.

21. She remembers Felicity.

22. She knows adult kids still need a mom.

1. Paper flowers.

2. Frame your children’s ultrasound images. (Leave space if Mom wants more.)

3. Transcribe your pre-writer’s happy-mother’s-day note. Include that nonsensical excursus.

Me: What did mama say about Mother’s Day?
Orison: It’s for doing Mommy’s favorite things.

Right. But did she give any specifics?

Which theory do you tend toward?

#1. Parents should appear unified for their kids.

#2. Children learn to fight well by seeing it done.

Game requirements: helium balloon, ceiling.

It’s especially fun because dad can’t win. There’s no way for him to score.

Them’s the rules.

Michelle Mitchell writes applauding mom blogs.

I’d like to think that 22 Words has some mom blog attributes (without the mom part).

Understanding teenage rebellion only as sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll implies that the goal is celibacy, sobriety, and employment. It’s not.

It’s Jesus.

I spoke at a parenting class today. My article on how to love your prodigals was my outline.

What would you add?

We teach Orison to always mention something that’s amazing about God during mealtime prayers. So, today:

You made my drum set.

Amen.

When did your kids start sitting through church services?

How much noise/wiggling did you allow?

What helped you keep them quiet?

Bratty child in grocery store:

But I don’t like chicken!

Mom:

Oh, I’m sorry, honey. Let me buy you a milkshake instead.

I have no words, so I quote:

…the water has left the building and we are awaiting contractions to begin in earnest.

(via Rocks)

When Molly was little her mom gave her spoonfuls of peanut butter like lollipops as snacks.

It doesn’t quite work with Orison.

When doubts creep in, they nag me the worst as I reassure Orison with utmost gravity that Jesus is real and near.

A car ran up onto our sidewalk recently.

If my goal were Orison’s complete security, he’d never play out front—or anywhere.

Orison: It’s consterant.
Me: “Consterant”?
Orison: That’s when things’re neat.

Have your kids invented any words that are now in your vocabulary?

Orison: What are knots?

Me: Strings that are tied up.

Orison, holding a shoestring: Here’s another knot.

Me: Nope, that’s an aglet.

Many admirable parents let their little children watch TV and movies every day.

Would anyone be interested in explaining this to me?

Yesterday, after reading about Jesus’ death, I asked Orison, “What do you have to do to be forgiven?”

He answered, “Good things.”

Two options at nap time:

1. Kid goes down obediently.
2. Kid fusses, and dad says, “See, you’re tired.”

Either way, it’s bedtime, Bucko.

Orison: Daddy, I just wanted to ask you a question.
Me: Yes?
Orison: Where was I when you were at your wedding?