The Scrawl Vol. 1, No. 12

      We found a lovely quiet little park close to home. Yay for swings when the teething pain has worn Baby out and Baby has worn everyone else out!

Maria loves Bag Balm. She discovered it in my drawer and managed to open it and smear it all over her face before I found her. The second time, she was just squishy-squishing it in her hand. She did not approve of my decision to put it up out of reach.

A big long truck came with what looked like a telephone pole. Maria watched it out the window. And the garbage truck, too. How is it that our baby is old enough to be standing watching the garbage truck?


What can I say? She sleeps like her ancestors. Including me. She may even need a cloth to soak up the drool…


So. Funny story. Maple rum syrup, when cooked too long, becomes maple rum toffee. 

Since I cooked a huuuuge pot of garbs, it’s a good thing Maria likes hummus.

As in, really really likes hummus.

Support your local albino squirrel!

For Stephen’s birthday dinner, I made lamb vindaloo, Turkish rice, naan, hummus, lemon garlic yoghurt, and French silk pie for dessert. And I don’t even have any pictures to show for the finished product. I guess you’ll just have to trust me on it this time.

On Saturday evening, I let Maria play with my keys on the way home from evensong…and left them in the car when I got out. Come morning, Stephen biked to church, and Maria and I did laundry. It was a tired and grumpy morning until…I hung the last article of clothing on the line, turned back towards the building, and dug in my pocket for my keys. Isn’t it funny how sometimes you can be really frustrated because things aren’t going according to plan, and then God reminds you that you have control over absolutely nothing, and suddenly everything is okay? Yeah. Being locked out of my building and car when the baby and I still weren’t dressed for church gave me a chance to laugh at myself, shrug, and start the day over. And a neighbor had propped open a door, and we had a spare key for the car in our lock box, so we weren’t even late to church.

We learned on Sunday that a classmate of Stephen’s from seminary died Saturday evening. Rest in peace, Walt. You sought me out to talk to me even when I was doing a good job of fading into the woodwork. You had the humility to let others see into your pain, the generosity to be yourself when you could’ve just put on a mask. I need more of those virtues.

Stephen’s parents came on Sunday evening, and we’ve had a good visit with them. We did some errands together, and discovered that Home Depot has car carts. Maria enjoyed them, but wasn’t necessarily crazy about them. That’ll come later, I’m sure.

When she falls asleep in the car, I try to make it last as long as possible. Naps have been less predictable and achievable recently thanks to teething. She still needs at least three naps a day, and is most cranky if she doesn’t get them, but we’ve been missing one of the afternoon naps lately.

I discovered I don’t like baked avocado. It sure is pretty, though.


We all have days when we just want to give up. No matter our calling. I had a few of those days last week. The combination of teething and the weird hormonal spikes that accompany a full time breastfeeding mama sent me to my knees several times a day, sobbing or gasping for the grace to finish the day right. And you know what? I was gentle. I didn’t hurt anyone. But grace doesn’t necessarily make things easy.

Some things I need to remember. Especially that making good connections and making time to develop relationships, while horribly draining, is really more than worth it in the end.


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