This weekend was about 3,000 hours long. I’m no smarty-pants, but I’m pretty sure weekends supposed to go by faster than that. 

In further efforts to ruin my day, Josh kept excellent tabs on just how many overturned (like this one) and abandoned vehicles they saw while on their trek home. He then posted them on social media sites frequently, just to keep us nervous wives informed, I suppose. And the final count was 112, in case you were wondering.

In further efforts to ruin my day, Josh kept excellent tabs on just how many overturned  and abandoned vehicles they saw while on their trek home. He was sure to post them on social media sites frequently, just to keep us nervous wives informed, I suppose. The final count was 112, in case you were wondering.

Josh left early Friday morning for a “quick” mission trip to Iowa. He and few other fellas went to work with a sweet Congolese community that has settled and established a church there.

I’m glad he could go, but, darn it, if he couldn’t have taken a few of these kids with him. I’m sure they would have been very helpful in the setting up of thousands of dollars of musical equipment.

It wasn’t an easy time for me while he was gone. I cried more than once. I got myself through by remembering that it I only had to hold out until Sunday evening. He would be back then, and I wouldn’t have to start the week without him.

And then Sunday came, and God gave Iowa its biggest snowstorm in years.  He wouldn’t be coming home that day after all.

I might have driven us all off a cliff, but the van’s battery was dead.

God is merciful, friends.


In all fairness, it was difficult here before he left.

Despite options that include dinosaurs, tractors, and sharks wearing eye patches, Christian finds big boy underwear deplorable. He would rather poop on himself. Logically.

Potty training stinks.

And Edy, my darling Edy, is a 6-year-old version of my 16-year-old self. (I’m so sorry, Mom and Dad.) Who is this child and where did this attitude come from? How have I failed her so?

Her disobedience makes me sad, but I am praying for wisdom.

And God is merciful.


I read a blog a few weeks ago (I cannot remember its source or I would post a link) written by another mom like me. She was struggling through hard days with multiple children at home. She had prayed for relief, but it didn’t seem to be coming.

Finally, recognizing that difficulties are par for the course for stay-at-home moms (and anyone else sucking oxygen), she switched tactics.

She began praying for more laughter in her life. More moments of funny. More giggles with and about her children.

 And, as always, God was merciful.

So harking back to the days in Mrs. Faulkenberry’s 3rd grade class when Josh and I cheated on our multiplication tests together (God is merciful!), I copied her.

Why not? I thought.

A little more laughter wouldn’t hurt anything around here.


Christian and his cute little diapered rear-end (which will likely be diapered until someone makes fun of him in a junior-high locker room somewhere) have developed a little jig that makes me happy.

It tried to post a video, but, again, I’m no smarty-pants. You’ll just have to believe me. It was cute. Kinda like this:



I had a good solid chuckle behind her back on Monday when Hattie asked me whether or not the beaver had seen his shadow that morning, and my sweet (and sour) Edy has suddenly turned into a Loud-Laugher.

Loud Laughers used to annoy Cranky-Hannah, but the new Hannah Who-Wants-To-Laugh-More-Often-Hannah will suffer through the cat videos and Kindergartner-appropriate slapstick if necessary. Her laughter makes me laugh, even if it is loud.


Lesson learned: God is merciful, and he loves when we pray to him. Especially when we pray specifically. 

Most of the time our prayers are generic. Rote. “Dear Lord, bless so-and-so,” or “God, please be with my husband today.” But God is already in the business of both “blessing” and “being with.” His very nature would not allow him to be or do otherwise.

Rather, if we really believe prayer is communicating with the Lord of the universe, why not give him a chance to show off a little? Pray for big things. Pray for small things. Pray for specific thingsHe doesn’t always answer with the “yes” we’re looking for, but we won’t know until we ask, will we?

I have laughed with (and at) my kids a lot these last few weeks, and I would have never recognized it as coming from God if I hadn’t been praying for that very thing. He gives good gifts, this God of ours. Gifts that he has tailored just for us, specifically. But we often need to ask, specifically.

He knew I needed laughter because potty training and child rearing are certainly not getting any easier. 

So what do you need, friend?

God is merciful. Just ask.

Because, goodness, if  “every good and perfect gift is from above” (James 1:17a), we’re surely missing out if we don’t.

Speaking of gifts (I write about gifts often, don’t I?!?), how about a giveaway?

My new book, God Bless My Boo Boo, released this week and I’ve got a copy ready to hand over to one of my lovely readers. Perhaps it’s you??


To enter to win, leave a comment below. You can just say “hi” if you want, or I’d love to hear your favorite children’s book, the funnier the better. (We love to laugh around here, you know.)

You can also double your chance to win if you sign up as a new subscriber to the blog (sign up is to the right, in the sidebar). 

Also, anyone with potty training tips for a 2 year-old boy that actually work will receive $1,000,000,000. 

Ready, friends? Go!