I've been thinking about church a lot lately. Mostly because if The Husband has to work over, we don't get to go. And that's a bummer.  I've noticed something about the church we've been visiting. They, unlike our previous church, seem to encourage (or at least they don't discourage) parents keeping their little ones in the service with them.  At our church in Houston, there was a separate area where toddlers and kids and teenagers went while the adults worshiped. They had their own lessons and songs to keep them occupied. I didn't really think anything of it until we started our family.  I realized very early on, that unless my kids were being super disobedient or were causing a ruckus for some reason, I wanted them with us. I wanted them seeing us worship and singing the songs. I wanted them hearing God's word preached while they learned to sit and listen. I wanted them in and among the body of believers taking it all in. I read this article the oth

I was going to write about being thankful we made it to church two weeks in a row, and then Jack fell and busted his lip wide open 10 minutes before we had to leave. I spent all of that time cleaning up the blood and dealing with the sobbing and then another 10 minutes with him on my lap refusing to stop crying. This means that Ella did not get woken up from her nap or get changed and dressed until 15 minutes after the church service had already begun. Then, when I explained to Jack that we would not be able to go, he lost it again and hasn't truly recovered. He's an emotional mess this morning, and pretty much everything disappoints him.  I'm not great either. I never dress up anymore because, really, the only people I see all day long are my children on a daily basis, so Sunday mornings are my one day a week to feel "pretty."  But, not today. Back in sweats I go on this chilly morning.  So, today, I'm thankful that I have the option to freely worship in a co

I'll start with my own.  Jack played in the dirt for the first time yesterday morning. Before, he's inspected grass and leaves but has never just dug in.  I guess watching the guys re-level the house inspired him. So anywho, yesterday, he kept leaning off the porch to dig, and I felt that was slightly unsafe. So, I plopped him down on this piece of rectangular concrete just off the porch and told him to sit there and not get off. He went to town digging through the dead leaves and grass. He yanked up roots and inspected them. He pulled up handfuls of dirt and put them in his bowl. He stayed there for over 30 minutes enjoying every second. After lunch and his nap, we headed back outside to soak up more of the gorgeous weather, and he immediately requested (lots of grunts and pointing and signing "help") to get down to that spot. I gave him a spoon and fork (super appropriate digging tools, I know) and his bowl, and he sat there investigating and pretending t