Our friends, the Summeralls, came to share Thanksgiving with us. Nicole said if I would do the turkey then she would do everything else. Sounds great, eh? Thing is I LIKE cooking for Thanksgiving and Honey is pretty particular about his sweet potatoes, so I said I would do a turkey, sweet potatoes, and a dessert.

Things are getting rough ’round these parts.

This is what Honey found today when he heard KB calling, “Daddy – I tuck”. Ten minutes later she had climbed into her baby bed and broke the bottom out of it. You notice there is no picture of that. . . the parents were NOT amused.

Next you will see what may look quite innocent:

I am so sick and tired of that duvet ending up on the floor. Don’t worry, there has been plenty of correcting, instructing, disciplining – to no avail. EVERY time she goes in Bubba’s room, the first thing she does is climb up on the bed and push all pillows and the comforter off. It’s like something isn’t connecting in Little’s brain. (pun intended)

I know the role of the parent is to prepare their children to live independently; to train them in Truth so they live to glorify their Heavenly Father, but I have to say I feel like all my time is spent “correcting, rebuking, and training in righteousness” and I am growing weary.

I keep telling myself that they won’t be this young forever – cherish every memory – one day we’ll laugh about _______. The truth of that makes me want to cry even harder.