In the Striving

Time flies.   Cliché, I know.   But it’s a phrase that perhaps we’re all guilty of tossing around without really considering the truth behind it.   Maybe this isn’t necessarily the case for kids.   You see, my husband and I have planned to take our 3-year old to see “Monsters University” this Saturday.   For Oliver, time is creeping by.   Saturday seems like an eternity away from today.   Today is Friday.   My, how perspective changes with age! The point is, whether we like it or not, time does, in fact pass…and usually, rather quickly.   If we’re not careful, it has a tendency to slip away from us until we have none left.   Humans, by nature, are typically procrastinators, right?   This is why I’m writing today.   My husband and I have recently been given an incredible reminder of this school of thought.   More than likely, you need a reminder too. This past April, we attended the Orange Conference in Atlanta, GA (check it out: Click Here ).   We’ve been several times, and it’s

My Dad is a journalist.   He has worked for many different newspapers around the country.   He is also an incredible writer, and at various times throughout his career, he has written a weekly column for the paper.   He has been known for writing about particularly controversial topics.   You know, politics and such.   But he has also written about our family upon many occasions.   Since my mother is his companion…his other half…he eventually established an acronym which he used any time he referred to her in a column.   She became known as the “L.L.M.B.”…standing for the “Lovely and Long-suffering Mrs. Beck”.   This became an amusing joke among the members of our family.   However, as I get farther and farther into motherhood, I am realizing the real truth that lies behind this well-deserved title.   But not because she was my dad’s wife…because she was a mother to me and my 3 siblings. My mother is long-suffering, for sure.   Right now, I am only 3 years, 3 months, and 9 days

Today’s post will have nothing to do with parenting.  Today, I am on a break from parenting.  Well, at least for the hour that both of my children might actually take naps.  And you know what?  ALL parents, no matter how perfect and angelic their children may be, need breaks from time to time.  If you disagree, you are either lying…or you’re just weird. So, in lieu of my typical posts on parenting, today, I am choosing to write about a newly budding love of mine: gardening.  (I apologize for the pun…but my mother will be proud…she prides herself in saying punny things).  If you happened to read my very first blog ever, you may have noticed that on my list of “to-do’s” for this year was planting a garden…with the goal of actually producing something worthwhile.  Well, folks, we don’t have vegetables yet, but there is some hard core evidence of future produce out there in that dirt!  I am pumped, to say the least! We are lucky enough to live next door to dear friends

Ah...a new computer.  A much overdue purchase we recently made.  It will no longer take me 15 minutes just to turn the computer on.  Needless to say, I'm a happy camper!  And hopefully, this means I will do more writing...hopefully...we'll see.  So...kids say the darndest things.  If you have kids, or have been around them much at all, then you know this is true.  Allow me to share a couple recent Oliverisms... 1.  The other day we were talking about consequences.  This is something we've been talking about QUITE frequently in our house, as Oliver has randomly decided it's fun to pretend he wears diapers again (even though he's been potty trained since November).  I'll spare you the gorey details.  Anyway, Oliver asked the question, "Where do consequences come from?"  (This is a common question he asks..."Where does _____ come from?" Sheesh, I'm realizing how much I don't know!)  I told him that consequences come from God.  He dis

Last Friday night was the best night I’ve had with my husband in a very long time!  We have been long overdue for a date night, and my upcoming 30 th birthday gave us even more of a reason to reserve an entire night for just the two of us.  So, thanks to my sweet in-laws, we were childless for roughly 19 hours.  Going to the movies was fun.  It had been a long time since we had been to the theater, and I had been dying to see “Lincoln” since it first came out in November.  Dinner was fabulous.  Sushi is our fave.  Mmm…still thinking about how good it tasted.  But really, the best part of the night was when we got home.  We sat on the couch…turned on some background music (Mumford and Sons Pandora station—always a good choice)…and we talked…and talked…and talked…for a couple hours!  It was wonderful and much needed. So why am I telling you all this?  Well, our conversation that night, at one point, parked on the subject of parenting.  I am going to be terribl

So I hit a low point this last week.  And it’s something I’m not proud of.  But I’m willing to write about it, because I know that realistically, many (if not all) of you have been there before.  My Oliver turned 3.  Naturally, I had to plan the perfect birthday party.  Those who know me know this about me: I am a ridiculous perfectionist, which is sometimes good, but mostly bad.  In this case, it was bad.  Months ago, we decided “Toy Story” would be the theme, so I began doing my Pinterest research.  My mom and I chose a particular design for a cake that we would construct together.  I’m not talking simple sheet cake.  Nope, this thing was the Prom King of all cakes…3 fancy layers, buttercream and fondant icing, intricate detail including lettering, 8 different colors, and cut-out graphics.  Insane is, perhaps, another word for it. Well, of course, the night before the big shin-dig, Isaac, my teething 8-month old, decided to have a terrible, horrible night.  I

I love conversations with Oliver.  And the other day, I had some that were the jot-it-down-so-I-don’t-forget-it kind.  Ever have those? They’re the best…especially when they involve some sort of proof that what I’m teaching my child is, in fact, sinking in. I attend a weekly women’s Bible study on Thursday mornings.  There is childcare for my kids.  But it’s more than just childcare.  They actually teach your children the same lesson that the adults learn each week.  They teach songs, and all sorts of other cool stuff.  Last week, we were on our way home from Bible study.  I decided to start asking Oliver what he had learned about in his class.  He gave the typical answer, “God.”  I’m sure he did learn about God, but I was hoping for a little more. After some unsuccessful probing, I settled on the fact that he wasn’t going to tell me all about Abram and God’s promise that he would give him a son.  I decided to change the subject.  We put on some music.  And as alway