Skip to main content

Gratitude #20: Brothers.

Grateful for brothers that spend time every week writing me a brief but sincere email, even amidst all their schedule doing Christian work in South America.

Grateful for brothers that drive with me to Smith's to get Oreos and ice cream while talking about Lithuanian refugees of the 20th century.

Grateful for brothers that come to rescue me when my headlights burn out on a dark night and I've no way to see my way home.

Grateful for brothers that frost zombie sugar cookies with me year after year.

Grateful for brothers that spent summers in the hollow by my side, where we spent our hours holding baby raccoons, skipping rocks, sledding down the "hiccup" and "deadman's bluff," climbing treehouses, and walking dogs.

Grateful for brothers that read, write, play, joke, meme, sing, banter, camp, reminisce with me.

Grateful for brothers who sent me carefully illustrated letters during my own missionary work abroad.

For brothers with whom I have secret handshakes.

For brothers who shop at D.I. with me.

For brothers who play boggle with me as we wait for the bus.

For brothers who give up a week of their summer and hard-earned B.K. Lounge cash to spend a siblings' trip in SanFran.

For brothers who appreciate boy bands with me (#ty) and TaylorSwift (#CJ).
For brothers who play Rob Thomas so that I can sing along since I don't do screamo (#AJ).
For brothers who co-star in a music video with me (#JP).

Grateful for brothers.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Problem with Chick Flicks.

I really, really, really enjoy a select few movies that I willingly watch over and over again. Pride and Prejudice is one of them. You see, Elizabeth's defense of her family, her sense of self respect, her ability to admit that she was wrong and to appreciate Darcy despite all his quirks, and quizzical brow-ness... it's marvelous. My husband doesn't share the sentiment, could you tell? ... and that's okay. There's rare a chick flick I enjoy near as much as I enjoy Pride and Prejudice or A Walk To Remember , and I wanted to explain why. You see, there's more than just a few problems with (many, not all) chick flicks:  (and if you have a chick flick that escapes many of these pitfalls then please oh please leave it's title in the comment section!) The heroine (or suitor) is less than honorable. I have a hard time rooting for a girl to get a gentleman when she's spending her time being scandalously loose with other men ( #thenotebook) . An

A Year and 10 Days Ago

Dear Friends, Family, Acquaintances, and you lovely random passerby of the Blogosphere-- A year and 10 days ago I set out on a journey to write a blog post a day, for two months straight. I did that successfully, and then decided to extend my challenge to a one-year challenge. My report? I wrote 317 blog posts in a 365-day period. And I think that's pretty rad. A few reflections on this experience: Firstly, I started this blog not just because I love writing, but because I needed help. I was suffering from some intense postpartum anxiety, but I didn't know that's what it was at the time. Every moment of every day I felt like I was under severe stress and pressure, even when there were no evident triggers for such. The feeling in my gut on an almost constant basis felt like the queasy stomach, racing heartbeat, and unsettled mind that greeted me before every math test and job interview I've had growing up. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know how

the grouch

he came home to the grouch. normally silly and sass, she was snippy and sour in lieu of laughter, sarcasm instead of sweetness... a lemon-tart  BONAFIDE GRUMP . He kissed her anyways. He held her anyways. He did the dishes anyways, and cheered up the screamy baby and cheered up the house. He melted the iceblock that had molded over her heart over the frustrations of the day because she allowed the demons of disaster to chill her joy. He melted her, all over again, he melted that grouch. That...that is true love. And that's just one reason I love 'im.