The M&M Story

On Easter, Max was not at his best.  He actually spent the afternoon on the couch, completely uninterested in food. On the Monday morning after Easter, he shuffled out of his room and announced: Max:  "Mom, I can't go to school." Me:  "Why, honey?" Max:  "Well, I feel like I have seaweed in my stomach, at least one beehive in my throat and a jackhammer in my eye." With that, he shuffled back to his room and crawled under his covers. Interesting symptoms.  I wonder his diagnosis....

Yes, I think so. If it didn't, I might want to crawl under the covers and go back to sleep for say, the next forty years of my life.  The Easter season holds powerful lessons for me.  Many, many moons ago, my father entered the gates of heaven, unexpectedly in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. It was about three weeks before Easter.  Nine years ago, Max, my creative, funny, and often poetic first born joined us in this earthly life. It was about two weeks before Easter.  Seven years ago (three weeks early), Briggs, my strong and so lovable youngest son was born, and it was about a week before Easter.  And then six years ago, my sweet first husband--Brian--was diagnosed with terminal cancer in the rainy days of March. It was about three weeks before Easter.  This time of year.  It is often a tornado of emotions and feelings and joys and sorrows and blessings.  And promises. And I don't mean I-promise-to-buy-you-an-ice-cream-if-you-clean-yo...

Briggs stayed home for the fifth day in a row.  Well, two of those were weekend days. Saturday morning his outcome for health looked promising, but a high fever and a trip to urgent care said differently.  Today he was fever free and recovering from four days of being sick. This morning, unbeknownst to me, Todd had asked him to make a list of things he wanted to do today. (It was Daddy's turn to stay home.) I was buzzing around the house gathering my things when I noticed him on the sofa, pensive and still. Catching my breath, I asked, "What's up, buddy?  Are you feeling bad?" He wasn't totally himself yet, but my concern was we had missed something that morning and he was, indeed, still feverish. B:  "No, I'm just thinking about my list." S:  "What list, honey?" B: "My list of things I want to do with Daddy today. And we are going to rest between each activity." S:  (I was melting in puddle of love for this little guy):...

I've watched this a bunch of times. I've shown it to my students in class. I've posted it on Facebook. Clearly, I really, really like it and think it should be on my blog. Permanently. Laura, one of my rock star video students, made this last fall. She wrote it.  She directed it. She edited it. She was 16 at the time. The ballerina is one of her best friends, also one of my students. I think this video teaches how beautiful redemption really is. I hope my boys, as teenagers, will grasp this understanding.

I've decided that I might be the most selfish and discontented person alive.  And narcissistic to boot. "I could do that better....." "If I just could.....maybe if I did this.....what if this were this way.....and that was that way...." Yes, I'm that shallow and that discontent and that, well, sinful. I like to pretend that I'm all wise and have learned, but that doesn't take away the fact that God, in His mercy, saved me from myself. Desire.  What exactly does that mean? God gives you the desires of your heart.  Okay, but my heart is pretty nasty. It envies. It covets. It judges. I wish it didn't. I wish I was perfect. Therein lies the problem.  Good thing I have a Savior. This devotion recently showed up in my inbox at precisely the same moment I was banging pots and pans around as I unloaded the dishwasher. Then I began ungracefully dropping silverware in my silverware drawer because my perfectly planned plans had been thwarted b...

Chocolate Chip Cookies. Redefined. Remade.  Feel free to Recreate. (And she wonders why her thighs just won't shrink...) Ingredients 2 sticks unsalted butter (to room temp) 2 cups bread flour (add ¼ more if you like cak-i-er cookies) 1 teaspoon kosher salt 1 teaspoon baking soda 1/4 cup sugar (prefer raw--just because) 1 ¼ cups brown sugar 1 egg 1 egg yolk 2 tablespoons milk (preferably raw whole or cream) 1 ½ teaspoons + a splash of vanilla extract or vanilla liquor or amaretto (so good!) or combination thereof. 1 tsp espresso powder 2 cups (or more) semisweet chocolate chips or combination of white and chocolate (preference) Hardware: Parchment paper (preference) Baking sheets Mixer Directions: Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. (I wish I was good at preheating....) Soften butter to room temperature--this is important!  I mean, you *can* melt, but soften is better. I’m sure I can come up with a thesis and support, but trust me, it’s for a smooth cookie. Sift ...

My sweet Max is nine years old.  Halfway to 18 when he may pack his bags and head out to find his fortune. To My Eldest: I love the way you look at the world. I love your humor. I love your curiosity. I love your poetic nature. I love your stick fort. I love your collections. I love your creations. I love how you love Tiger. I love your heart. 

Saturday, we went to a Zoo birthday party for our little friend Norah, who turned two years old. Todd had parked by the Muny because it was insanely gorgeous out and the entire city of St. Louis made Forest Park the day's destination. On our way to the car, we passed one of my favorite spots in all of Forest Park, the World's Fair Pavilion. The fountain below, drained of water, made for a great climbing spot. As the boys jumped and leaped and "snow skied" from rock platform to rock platform, Todd and I made our way to the bricks in front. After Brian passed away, I purchased a brick through Forest Park Forever to honor him and his love for making things more beautiful.  Brian had the gift of envisioning brokenness into beauty and was filled with the grace to embrace that process. On his brick is engraved: Brian Maynor Lived and Loved By His Grace After the boys had leaped and jumped to their heart's desire, they made their way down to see Daddy Brian's br...