I went in for my every-three-and-a-half-months, I’ve-put-this-off-too-long, please-cut-my-hair-so-it-doesn’t-look-like-I’m-wearing-a-lampshade appointment at the hairdresser. I have a headful of decidedly curly, i.e. forgiving but frizzy hair, quickly becoming more frizzy and less forgiving. I believe the dialogue went something like this.
Hairstylist: Are you under a lot of stress?
Me: Um, well, yeah. Some.
Lately, I’ve been waist deep in a book I’m writing about child-loss. It’s a memoir and the full intent is to share hope and encouragement for women who have experienced pregnancy or infant child-loss. The story grips me. In fact, as I’m writing it, many times I find myself pulling back a bit to really carefully examine my experiences– what I felt and what I’ve gained. I’ve had multiple miscarriages and after each time, something different happened to me. A different feeling. A different lesson. Most importantly, God has taught me the beauty of who he is in my life, even in the midst of my pain. But one other lesson he’s sharing with me right now, is how blessed I am to have three beautiful children right here, how they are a gift and how I should treat them that way.
Don’t know about you, but Liz Sanchez’ December 2010 post, “Take The Pretty Nightie Challenge,” may be the most talked about MomLife Today post in the Gresh house. Take it from a woman whose husband accuses her of being a hoodie-aholic (but only at bedtime), it’s a good thing to consider the concept of putting on something pretty now and then despite the fact that you’re sure you’ll freeze to death. (I took Liz’s challenge and wore something pretty to bed for a month and I did not freeze to death. I am, in fact, still alive!) The Pretty Nightie Challenge certainly ignited a few confessional conversations amongst me and my girlfriends. I might have even bought and shipped a somewhat pretty nightie to one of my fellow MomLife Today bloggers. (She shall remain nameless.)
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When our 5 kids were little I ran away. Well not exactly, but I do remember standing by the front door at the end of…
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Begrudgingly I walked into the Breast Center for my annual mammogram on April 1. “Why am I such a rule follower,” I asked myself as…
