that’s what HE said
This week, I'm switching it up and highlighting some of the most interesting posts from the testosterone set. Tim Wise poses an imaginary world where the tea party protestors are black. I think his observations are provocative, but accurate. Backpacking Dad is always good for a laugh, but this post on teaching our children and letting them fail will resonate with any parent. Max Reddick at Soul Brother 2.0 takes a critical look at the mordern gun rights rally, and questions the . . .
transforming backpacks and deluxe travel neck pouches
I am in a hotelroom in Seattle. Alone. Glass of wine in hand. Ahhh . . . it is heavenly. I don't think I've sat in this much quiet since -- well, I can't even think of a time. I am here to speak at a women's conference tomorrow. Jafta came along to have a slumber party at his cousins' house. It was so nice flying with just one kid - Jafta was awesome on the plane. He was very excited about his new suitcase, that can be rolled, . . .
the manny
Kembe is such a little parent to Karis. He likes to scold me if she isn't dressed by 8am. He begs to prepare her bottle and give it to her. He follows her around the house, making sure she doesn't put anything in her mouth or touch something she shouldn't. He tries to beat me to her crib when she wakes up, and loves to push her in the stroller. We've started calling him the "manny". Jafta and Kembe have also taken it upon themselves to teach her how to walk. . . .
how you know you’re old
Exhibit A: You are watching the movie 17 Again (the reason that particular Netflix gem showed up just as all of the Oscar-nominated movies are finally available is a story for another time. Probably entitled "how you know you're lame"). Anyways, you are watching and realize the first scene is a flashback scene - and then you ask your husband, "Is this a flashback to when he was in high school? Why aren't they all dressed in 70's clothes?" And your husband laughs and . . .
flashmob birthday
DEF flashmob(noun) - a group of people who assemble suddenly in a public place, perform an unusual and pointless act for a brief time, then quickly disperse. I really had no plans for Karis's birthday yesterday. Life has been crazy, and I always think that first birthdays are more for the parents than for the clueless babies. I mean, let's be honest. Karis is just as happy playing with the pots and pans drawer as she would be at some elaborate fete in the backyard that would deplete my . . .
this one is one
Today, my little baby turns one year old. Karis is truly a joy. She is such a happy baby. She seems to find delight in every situation, whether she is laughing at Kembe's dancing or trying to feed me her bottle. She is a bundle of cuteness. I love this stage, for all the wide-eyed curiosity and unbridled enthusiasm for the world. At the same time, she's entering that precocious toddler stage, hallmarked by the dangerous combo of mobility + lack of reasoning. . . .
the blister underneath
Last week was a whirlwind. We started the week with an extra child (whose parents are now home from Ghana), and then we had Jodie and the cousins stay for a night. In between that, India and Kembe had a slumber party at grandma's house, and on Friday we had a night with the whole Howerton clan gathered at grandma's. It was all a lot of fun, and definitely a lot of activity outside of our normal routine. I feel like we are still on such a learning curve with Kembe. It's been . . .
that’s what she said
Troy and Tara Livesay's daughter Paige is running a half-marathon to raise money for Haiti. Paige is 15 years old and has lived in Haiti for four years. I have never seen a teenager with so much compassion for others. The day after the earthquake, she was literally fighting with her parents to be able to go out to the street clinics and help the wounded. She is an amazing girl. Her goal is to get a few houses built for a few families who have lost their homes. . . .
social networking: sucking time, saving lives, and the gray in-between
I think it’s fair to say that many of us who write our own blogs also read a lot of blogs. We might also spend a fair amount of time on twitter. We might also waste a bit of time on facebook. And before we know it, we might find ourselves wondering how it got to be 1am and we still haven’t put the dinner dishes away. And by we, I mean me. I spend entirely too much time online. It's what a call a neutral addiction. It's not hurting anyone - I'm not flying into a drunk rage or throwing my . . .
RIP, mouse in the house
Last night we went to bed with a mouse precariously hanging from the shelf in the shower. We drifted off to peaceful sleep with the crack under the bathroom door barricaded by our two largest books (The Complete Works of Shakespeare, Unabridged, and The Holy Qur'an, With Translation and Commentary.) In the bathroom, we left behind the hanging mouse, a strategically placed piece of brie, and an electrical trap from Home Deport. This morning, a small, slightly crispy tail protruded from the . . .
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