Tag Archives: church

Scenes from Saturday + Communion & Carbs

I had one of those moments this week where a few extraneous thoughts collide and bring new understanding. I love that.

First, I’ve been trying to revive the front lawn, as well as get the garden going again. I’m not a big lawn guy. What’s the point of them exactly? But I do like planting vegetables.

Then, I read that NY Times piece about languishing.

Finally, with less than forty days left, I thought about the kid’s past year in school during the pandemic.

Kids are tough. Tougher than we usually give them credit for. I don’t think the girls are languishing. I think (hope), that like my vegetable garden (the front lawn might be beyond saving) they are merely dormant. They are waiting to bloom.

Planting a garden is circular, not relentlessly chronological, like our social media-obsessed society. What they’ve learned or how they’ve adapted might not be known for decades.

This past year has been unique, weird, and at times tough, and it’s hard to flourish in those conditions but I don’t think they’re failing, I think they’re biding their for better conditions. Like a kohlrabi.

Yeah, just compared my kids to those weird orbs in the bottom of your CSA box.

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Scenes from Saturday + Sniffles & Secret Errands

Like many, Michelle and I are doing a health reset in January after the excess of the holidays and recently had a discussion about the best way to measure success without just relying on pounds or calories. We never did resolve that question but the amorphous nature of a potential answer did lead me to thinking about how I might ultimately measure success as a parent. What does that look like? I mean, having healthy kids who eventually move out of your house and survive to adulthood is an obvious answer. But a lot of that could be put down to luck and has a whiff of just barely meeting the basic job requirements.

If I look into the future, what might I see that makes me happy? Ironically, for an introvert, I decided it’s having a crowded house. On holidays. On birthdays. On a random Sunday night for dinner. I’ll be a success as a Dad if I ultimately have children I get to see, who actually want to see me, and spend time with me. A crowded house or a crowded table will be my metric of success.

For now, they have no choice. They are stuck with me. Here’s how Saturday went…

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