I sit here tapping out these words to the sound of rain and thunder. Yet another whisper of spring nipping at the skirts of winter. Spring never hurries to New England. But it is this same scarcity that lures me outside at even the slightest invitation. Daffodils push through the sod -- they must be inspected. Birds singing in the morning light -- they must have something to show me. So, we pull on mud boots and jackets, my littles…
I am earning new gray hairs. Only today a solitary white hair forced its way out of my scalp as I wrestled my angry four year old into the house after he slapped his little sister. I swear that my little white hair made an auditory, "ping" as it sprung forth in all of it's wiry glory. I'm aging and that's good. But some days I feel so ancient. Especially under the weight of what…
Homeschooling. It’s an epidemic that has been sweeping across our nation at an unprecedented rate this past decade. Who are theses people? What is it that they do all day? Do they wear matching rompers and drink electric Kool-Aid? Weirdos. Then you wake up one morning and the government says, “Thou shalt homeschool thy children.” Cold sweats, panic, your worst nightmare has been realized. You are now a government issue homeschooler. Welcome to my wilderness. Buckle up, partner.…
I am emotional about Louisa May Alcott. When I think of her I become misty. You may know her as the writer of Little Women and Little Men but to me she is the one who gave me permission to call myself a writer. In her preserved home, Orchard House in Concord, Ma, I walked the floors she and her artful, creative family walked. My feet tread the aging floors of a family of intellectual giants. I stared out of…
You might be a boy mom if your bathroom smells like a subway elevator in July. On subway elevators in July: I once took four boys through the subway systems of Boston after a grueling day of doctor’s appointments for Jack. We finished a long day of hospital doings then walked several blocks up Longwood Avenue. The subway doors had a habit of closing as I wrestled a stroller with an angry toddler up and into the train while the…
I like to wear jeans with holes in the knees to church. I also like to slip my sandals off, in a gesture of standing on hallowed ground, when I raise my hands in worship. Sometimes I feel compelled to kneel even when everyone is standing. God blessed us to be free in worship of the only wise king; to abandon our social binds like David when he danced in the street before the arc of the covenant.…
One more circle to close. Before I loved The Bearded Wonder, there was a prophecy. A good man told The Bearded Wonder that he and I would break the spell of broken hearts which plagues both of our family lines. Generations of broken marriages would end with us. I already told you about this. In the beginning of us, there was a dream of our children’s children. We began our love with eternity in our eyes. Maybe that is why…
Last week, I wrote about God the Author; the one who pens the story of your life and the massive, cosmic story of our universe. He is also an artist. I imagine his fingers to be fine and long, and his hands to be strong. I think of my dad’s hands when I imagine the hands of God creating and making as only he can. He uses ink and hard lines, he uses pastels and water color. He paints with…
When I began homeschooling my boys, I was too confoundedly independent to join a charter school but too untested to chose my own books. I began with Sonlight Curriculum, a literature based learning. Boxes and boxes of beautiful books have graced our doorstep at the beginning of every school year. As a result, I learned volumes about children’s literature (pun intended). I learned about authors I have loved and those I loved not. I gained confidence and taste in wonderful…
I am good at self-denial. If there is a book out there pro-porting to solve all of my life’s woes by just cutting back on this or doing without that, I’m all about it. I can wear old clothes and trudge about in shoes with holes in the sole and have an internal glow of satisfied martyrdom. I’m be a very good nun. The Bearded Wonder and I are forever in a quandary about how to make our money stretch…
I tossed and turned last night with fitful sleep. Nightmares made me squirm and nearly cry out for the first half of the night. Nightmare, actually. One dream that dragged on and on and seemed never to tire of itself. I was in a hospital waiting for surgery for my son, Jack. He hasn’t had an open heart surgery in years now, but somehow I was back in that place again. In my dream, I walked the past the long…
New England used to seem to me to be some sort of romantic place that only really existed in lovely books about autumn leaves and coastal fishing villages. Turns out. It isn’t. And then again it is. I didn’t really know about Boston drivers or humid summers without air conditioners. But the lovely things I had imagined were all so much more lovely than I could have hoped. I would love to share with you a little taste of our…
A number of years ago a very smart friend of mine introduced a concept to me that has been tickling my brain ever since. She suggested that if the Father portion of the Holy Trinity embodies the characteristics of a father, it might be suggested that the Holy Spirit embodies those of a mother. I’ve heard of people who struggle to relate to God as a good father because they have deep rooted dad issues. I, on the inverse, have…
Dear Bearded Wonder, Remember when we used to keep a journal together and always signed it with “Happy Valentine’s Day”? This is my journal entry to you, only I’m shamelessly using my blog platform to shout to the world that I kind of like you. I knew you before the beard. I knew you when I could see your baby face which hides beneath that glorious red beard. And I loved you anyway. That must be proof alone that I’m…
Have you ever read a book that made you want to jump out of your seat and shout, “Me too!”? The beauty of good books is that so often they can penetrate the walls of your mind and heart and speak to the parts that needed a good talking to. For me that has been the book Different by Sally and Nathan Clarkson. The sub-title is The Story of an Outside-the-Box Kid and the Mom who Loved Him. I happen…
Hi, good buddies! It’s that time of year again. The time when I hit you up for cash. Or toothpaste. Or deodorant. Or maybe even pre-packaged flip-flops. Yes, yes, friends. It’s February which means Congenital Defect Awareness Month which also means we, over at the Marquis household, are assembling care bags for parents of PVS (Pulmonary Vein Stenosis) kids at Boston Children’s Hospital.…
Having a child with ODD is not unlike carting a dark storm cloud with you everywhere you go. Imagine if Eeyore liked to break things and make people cry. I have a son like that. He doesn’t want to be this way. Except when he does. He acts like a child who is tortured by himself. Because he is. What is ODD? Other than being a painfully ironic acronym, it is a behavioral condition called Oppositional Defiance Disorder. In the…