Laundry has always seemed an uphill battle. As soon as the washing machines shut off and the dryers finish their cycle, more dirty clothes inexplicably appear out of thin air. Of course, no one seems to know who dirtied their clothes. Almost as if little people paw into the children’s drawers and pranced outside in them during the night.
The time had come. The chains had to be broken. The cycle had to stop. New rules had to be set in motion. For man does not live on bread alone. (Dramatic enough?)
It was time to wean #8 from his bottle. Continue reading
While the household prepared for Mass on a bright Sunday not long ago, I noticed, seemingly for the first time, that my girls had become young women. Continue reading