Skip to main content

Eeeny, Meeny... or Both

Comments

Anonymous said…
How adorable. I wish I could give him a great big hug. He makes life look easy. Tell Seth that the next time I see him we will have a "Chip party."
Unknown said…
That's the life! A chip in each hand!
Shannon said…
Hey, Amy. I just read your comment at the Humble Amy's and I jumped over here to see if you might be close to Milledgeville - I have the perfect church for you! But I'm guessing your a little closer to the big city:) I'm tickled to have found your blog though!
Unknown said…
What I didn't blog was that Seth had been so sick with a cold and had barely eaten enough to keep a bird alive. So even when I found him with the chips, I didn't take them away. Bad mommy, bad mommy!

Shannon, Thanks for visiting! I'm looking forward to hearing from another "Georgian!"
Kelli said…
Mmmm...both look good to me too. :0)
Kelli

Popular posts from this blog

Homeschooling Curriculum Help?

Shannon is hosting a backwards edition of what-works-for-me Wednesday , where you can ask for advice/ or suggestions instead of giving them. Yeah! I need some advice. David and I are really praying and considering homeschooling our boys, K4 and grades 2 and 6 —beginning this fall. Can anybody recommend a curriculum, either as a whole or as a subject, that you are crazy about that doesn’t make you crazy? Secondly, if you could give one tip for “survival” what would that be?

Happy Birthday, Amy

When Zachary’s slender hand grasps yours You lay aside your evening chores, Embarking out upon a pillowed sea. The books reclining on your knees (Yours motherhood; his history), Two spirits blend, his head leans on your arm. He doesn’t have to say, “I love you, Mom.” Seth’s plaintive cry splits pre-dawn’s calm Needing, it seems, your loving balm. His message, to the point: “Take me to Mom.” Setting the steaming mug aside You let him burrow deep, and hide, Enveloped in the solace of your warmth. He doesn’t have to say, “I love you, Mom.” Sam, snuggled in the upper bunk The drink of sleep not fully drunk Has no idea you’re already up. The mixing bowl, the flour and spice He’ll see, and lisp, “O Paradithe” And wrap two sturdy arms around your waist. He doesn’t have to say, “I love you, Mom.” Your husband rises every day And views – miraculous display – How shirts, once hampered, now hangers adorn. Somehow his bride has taught the boys, Delivered meals and picked up toys Each task accomp

February 27 Update

I just called to see if Amy wanted to blog anything today, but at the moment she is talking on the phone to her wonderful friend, Deb Rose. Deb and her husband, Brian, used to live in Louisville several years ago. They were our very best friends. If I were talking to the Roses this evening, I would tell them that Amy is desperately scared. The docs have given her a very stiff dose of antibiotics, but as of this moment, her body temp is climbing once again. Her primary doctor told her he fears that this infection may be fungal in nature. I don’t completely understand all of the implications, except that we are shooting at this infection with our biggest guns, but it just keeps on coming. In her introspective manner, she shared with me today that if she had known she would lose her sight, she would have invested it more wisely in the things she read and watched: “What if I go completely blind and can’t read the Bible? I have to get more serious about memorizing.” This morning a do