mama wisdom & faithful instruction

This morning I snuck downstairs before any of the darlings were awake. I sat on our living room rug, hot coffee next to me, and my Bible open in front of me. I found my way to Proverbs 31 where verse 26 tells me this proverbial wonder woman "speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue."



Faithful instruction.

I stopped right there and asked God to fill my words with wisdom and faithful instruction. I asked that my words be a blessing to my children, pointing them to Jesus.

So beautiful. So inspiring.

And ten minutes later, those darlings woke up...


Good morning, darlings.

Go use the potty.

Everyone needs to go potty when they wake up.


Yes, you need to wear pants.

Stand still.

Let me help you.

No, you can do it yourself.

Sit down.

Hands to self.

Ask me again in a different way.

Take your plate to the kitchen.

Stop it.

Let's go.

Spit spot.

Put your shoes on.

Grab a coat.

Get in your seat.

Try to buckle yourself.

Quiet down.

Speak up.

I can't hear you, sweetie.

Respect the no.

Hold my hand.

Look both ways.

Walking feet.

Obey quickly, please.

Speak truth and love.

I can see you're feeling frustrated.

Slow down.

Hurry up.

Stop running.

Give him space.

Take off your shoes.

Did you wipe?

And flush?

Wash your hands.

Let's pause to thank God.

Please use your spoon.

Here, eat a carrot.

No, you can't have another treat.

You have enough ketchup.

Don't say "stupid."

Stop provoking your sister.

Yes, you may be excused.

Go play.

Stop bugging me.

Turn that down.

Gentle hands.

Remember, brothers and sisters are for life.


You need to play in separate rooms.


Mommy is feeling frustrated.

Pick that up.

Wipe that up.

Carry that up.

Take that up, too.



Please respond when I ask you something.

Be gentle.

Wait a minute.

Give me a moment.

Oh my darlings.

Look at me.

I'm sorry I yelled.

What is that?

Where did you get that?

Put that back.

Oh good grief.

Keep the worms outside.

Look for a chance to show love.

What do you say when someone gives you something?

Not right now.

Go back outside.

The snow shovel is not a toy.

No, you can't have another snack.

Where'd you get that Popsicle?

Dinner will be ready soon.

Oh look, Dad's home!

Go ask your Dad.

Talk to Dad about it.

Show Dad.

Go find your Dad.

Wash up.

Let's pause to thank God.

Please use your fork.

No, you can't have another treat.

You don't need ketchup.

Head upstairs.

And carry something up.

Put your dirty clothes in the basket.

Pick a book.

No, a shorter book.

Let's pray.

Ok, but this is the last song.

Give me a kiss.

And hug.


I love you, too.

See you in the morning.

Go to sleep, darling.

Stop yelling "mom."

Go back to your own bed.

I mean it.

Get back in your bed.


I love you.


Surely there's some wisdom and faithful instruction in there somewhere.



because one day you won't, part 3

Milo was born in April, and the transition to three children has been as expected - insane and delightful all at once. At times I can see my knowledge and confidence as a mom coming on strong this time around; other times all three of the darlings are crying at once, and I am cursing Stephen for not working from home more often. The reality that this little guy will be walking and talking (read: running away from me when I call his name and using phrases like "pooper butt") all too soon has made me aware of moments to remember.  Even more so than I did with Charlotte and Andrew, I am slowing down, noticing, and smiling that both childhood and baby life are happening in our home.

"Because one day you won't" is my unapologetic, sappy mom writing. You can read more about it here and here.



Because one day your cheeks won't be so big.


Because one day you won't fit so perfectly in my arms, letting me hold you close and squish your cheeks.


Because one day you won't wake me up throughout the night


And despite my constant exhaustion and occasional complaining, the corner of my heart will miss the sweet stillness of those nighttime moments when it is just you and me.


Charlotte and Andrew,

Because one day you won't walk curiously into my hospital room, eyes wide, ready to meet your baby brother.

Because one day you won't think bathing your little brother makes for the best day ever.


Because one day you won't kiss him so fiercely.


Because one day you won't both fit in the rock & play.


Because one day you won't stare at him over the crib.


Because one day you won't beg to hold him just a few more minutes.


So today I will notice those moments.