I recently had an inspiring parenting moment with my 3 year old daughter. It was late and I was tired after a long day. I made a conscious decision to get down on the floor with her and play, even though I really wanted to be distracted by the 10 other things on my to-do list. While Lucy and I were playing with one of her favorite toys, she became frustrated about something and walked out of the room. « Continue reading »
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I sat with the sand between my toes last week, watching my kids tumble in a pile across the beach on a lazy vacation day. It was the first time in years that I can remember being able to read my own book while they played amongst themselves, happily. My eyes wandered a lot, to them, and their growing, tumbling, sand-covered bodies, fearlessly conquering the waves of the Atlantic. « Continue reading »
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Dr. James Dobson’s book, “Stories of the Heart and Home” illustrates that special romantic love that we dwell on during Valentine’s Day so beautifully, I just had to send it along to all of you. “But nothing is so beautiful as a loving relationship that conforms to God’s magnificent design”. Here is a brilliant example of this divinely inspired love. It was written by the surgeon who experienced it. Perhaps you will be deeply moved by his words, as was I. « Continue reading »
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My mom passed away two months ago. I have not been the same since. Not just because I lost her, but because of what I learned about my two college age sons.
The first thing they each said when I told them of her aggressive cancer diagnosis was, “How soon can I go see her”, halfway across the country. Neither had the time or money and neither gave it a second thought. They spent an entire weekend devoted to creating last memories with her, building a snowman in her front yard as she watched from inside with her oxygen and cane until she couldn’t contain herself anymore and ran out in socks to have a picture taken with them and the now famous snowman. They baked Christmas cookies and threw pieces of dough at each other until she joined in laughing. When they had to say their final good-byes, both were incredibly strong. « Continue reading »
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When our daughter was going on eight years old, she asked me to help her write a sonnet about her dogs. We sat together and I asked her a few questions. Soon we realized the sonnet said exactly what Laura wanted to say!
A Tale of Two Dogs
I have two dogs I love with all my might.
The smartest dogs that you have ever seen.
One dog is black, the other is pure white.
To one another, they are never mean.
Whenever I come home my dogs are there.
In circles they begin to run around.
Two fluffy tails a’waggin in the air,
as if a long-lost friend had just been found
Though one dog is the color of the snow
and one dog is as black as he can be
they love each other very much and know
their color doesn’t mean a thing to me.
Some people have not learned all dogs are smart.
Color doesn’t matter in a dog’s heart.
A sonnet by: Laura Jean Bird – Age 7 1/2
To learn more about ProudGrandMom, visit www.birdmommy.com
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She is sitting on my lap as we gaze into the night sky. This may be the last year she will be willing to do that. She’s growing up so fast and pretty soon snuggling with Daddy will be embarrassing rather than comforting. She lays her head against my chest and I smile. Above us, cascading explosions of light and color brighten the darkness. I glance down at her wonder filled face. She doesn’t notice me looking at her so I take a moment to drink in her innocent beauty. She is my little girl, my grown up baby. With every flash in the sky, pictures fill my mind of different times when I have looked at this precious face… « Continue reading »
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The hardest thing I’ve been through as a parent is to have to bury two of my children… It taught me to cherish life and love every moment that I have with my family. It taught me not to take my kids for granted because they could be taken from me with no warning. Every day is a blessing, treat it as such!
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When I was in my twenties, my gaze was always focused on the big things—finding the “perfect” partner, the “to-die-for” job, the “huge” book deal, or getting into the “best” graduate school. Little things didn’t matter much; they were unnecessary distractions that I treated as rounding errors. I either ignored them or focused on what came before or after. Looking back, I can see that how deeply I was affected by films and operas. I was always waiting for the sweeping climax that would bring resolution, on a grand scale, to my life. I was young and eager to fit together the largest pieces of the puzzle of life, foolishly believing that the remaining bits didn’t matter. « Continue reading »
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I ran into a stranger as he passed by,
‘Oh excuse me please’ was my reply.
He said, ‘Please excuse me too;
I wasn’t watching for you.’
We were very polite, this stranger and I.
We went on our way and we said goodbye.
But at home a different story is told,
How we treat our loved ones, young and old.
Later that day, cooking the evening meal,
My son stood beside me very still.
When I turned, I nearly knocked him down.
‘Move out of the way,’ I said with a frown.
He walked away, his little heart broken.
I didn’t realize how harshly I’d spoken.
While I lay awake in bed,
God’s still small voice came to me and said,
‘While dealing with a stranger,
common courtesy you use,
but the family you love,
you seem to abuse.
Go and look on the kitchen floor,
You’ll find some flowers there by the door.
Those are the flowers he brought for you.
He picked them himself: pink, yellow and blue.
He stood very quietly not to spoil the surprise,
you never saw the tears that filled his little eyes.’
By this time, I felt very small,
And now my tears began to fall.
I quietly went and knelt by his bed;
‘Wake up, little one, wake up,’ I said.
‘Are these the flowers you picked for me?’
He smiled, ‘I found ’em, out by the tree.
I picked ’em because they’re pretty like you.
I knew you’d like ’em, especially the blue.’
I said, ‘Son, I’m very sorry for the way I acted today;
I shouldn’t have yelled at you that way.’
He said, ‘Oh, Mom, that’s okay.
You know I love you anyway.’
I said, ‘Son, I love you too,
and I do like the flowers, especially the blue.’
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Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my sanity to keep.
For if some peace I do not find,
I’m pretty sure I’ll lose my mind.
I pray I find a little quiet,
Far from the daily family riot.
May I lie back and not have to think
About what they’re stuffing down the sink,
Or who they’re with, or where they’re at
And what they’re doing to the cat.
I pray for time all to myself
(did something just fall off a shelf?)
To cuddle in my nice, soft bed
(Oh no, another goldfish–dead!)
Some silent moments for goodness sake
(Did I just hear a window break?)
And that I need not cook or clean
(well heck, I’ve got the right to dream)
Yes now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my wits about me keep,
But as I look around I know,
I must have lost them long ago!
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