Missing joy...

She slipped out unnoticed one day when I forgot to latch the door.

And so I rise each day and nurse babies and make breakfasts and shopping lists and play-doh pizzas; I kiss boo-boos and sweaty little baby curls. I wipe up spills and runny noses.

But it's mechanical and dutiful and forced. These are beautiful things-- beautiful children. My God has blessed me abundantly. So why is it such a chore?

Oh, Jesus-- soften my heart. Make me content.

Cana's first 'do

It's Beauty Parlor Day at the Strayer house, what with blue-painted fingernails, flat irons, and THIS:

Piggies are running amok 'round these parts:


*sigh* I love having girls.

Crunchy Tribal Goddess Mama

THAT is how I would like to be referred, from now on, please.

'Cause no, I didn't clean the bathroom today.

No, I didn't fold the laundry.

Yes, I fed my kid Cheerios for breakfast (again) instead of our *ahem* usual diet of sprouted grain toast and organic tahini topped with ground flaxseed toppy.

But darnit, I got my infant on my back with a long piece of fabric. And nothing but a long piece of fabric.



Just like the crunchy tribal goddess mamas do.