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I Was Grumpy Today

I was a bear today. Growly, bristly and short-tempered, for no good reason. I hate days like that.

After a burnt dinner, I scowled and put the dishes away, tidying up the relentless mess and feeling worn. Then the evening light grew warm, I chilled out a bit and The Grump lifted, almost magically. Steve had to run an errand and took Karenna out with him; it’s amazing the way the dynamics shift when just one child is removed from the situation. I grabbed my camera and started snapping some photos of Avelyn and Brin in the orchard and it was just what I needed to take a deep breath, see the beauty around me and just soak it up.

I turn 32 tomorrow. If I make it to 96, I’m one-third through this life. HOLY COW, man.


I Hope You Jump

Every time we’re at the beach, she looks at me with her big, round hazel eyes and asks if I will jump off the dock with her.

And I say yes whenever I can.

She’s been at camp this whole past week and I miss her. See you tomorrow, Ave!

Jen Wilson - You’re my hero. (That sounds sarcastic, but it is not. You’re a rad mom.) :)

Lisa - Absolutely love this. So beautiful, Amanda.

Andrea @ Mama in the City - That is awesome!

In Summer

In exchange for that single moment of elation after I put the dinner dishes away and don’t have to immediately yank the lunch fixings out of the fridge to assemble school meals for the next day, comes the starkness of ten weeks with all three girls at home all day, every day. Yes, there are magical moments at the beach, or when we read stories together at bedtime, but there is also a whole lot of FIGHTING and beating each other up and screaming and did I mention the FIGHTING?!

Oh, the fighting.

Summer holidays, you are a complicated mistress. High-maintenance, yet seductively beautiful at times.

Being home with the kids over summer “break” tosses me back into vivid memories of those days when they were all so little and crazy and they still crapped their pants and I hadn’t slept in six years. Good times. The guilt of not enjoying every moment sweeps over me and I fight thoughts like, “We could all be having a lot more fun if they weren’t acting like such TURDS.”

This is summer, man.

Add to the mix an exceptionally busy farmer husband and my unpredictable real estate schedule and the days are a tad harried.

This life: it’s great, it’s hard, it’s exhausting, and it’s ours.

I am thankful.

(But we REALLY would be having a lot more fun if the kids weren’t acting like such TURDS.)



Danica - I’m lucky that I am not working this summer. And yet, I also miss the routine of the school year. Don’t worry. It’ll be September before you know it. And by September, I mean, the unknown end of the teacher’s strike.

She Is Eight Years Old.

I am not really sure how this happened, but my baby is eight today.

This time, eight years ago, I was propped up in a hospital bed, exhausted from a 40 hour labour, dumbfounded by the love I knew for the tiny girl in my arms, and it also kind of felt like I had been hit by a bus.

Avelyn has transformed into this wondrous child: full of laughter and hilarity, still prone to the same melodramatic tendencies she’s battled since toddlerhood, a tender, kind girl who loves animals and art and being with friends. She is beautiful and smart and we love her more than she’ll ever know.

Happy Birthday, Avi!

Andrea @ Mama in the City - I always love how as mothers we can reflect so intensely on the day our babies were born, even years later! Also, who is this girl??!! I guess I haven’t seen a photo of her in awhile and was surprised at how…mature she looks! Happiest birthday wishes!

Hettie - I am a very rare commenter on blogs I read, but this struck me as I’ve been reading your blog since the beginning and man on man 8 years goes by in a flash eh? She’s a beauty to say the least! Native Calgarian who’s currently living abroad. All the best to you, Steve & the girls!!

How He Loves Us

I grew up attending Sunday School every week, soaking in stories about Adam and Eve, Jonah and the Whale, and David and Goliath. I memorized Bible verses for fun, I went to youth group multiple times a week, and I thought I had it all figured out. My world was black and white, right and wrong, nice and easy.

I always wrestled with doubts about Christianity, though: wondering about the validity of the Bible, questioning how unfair it was that people who never heard about Jesus were just destined for a fiery afterlife, second-guessing my faith. Once I left home, my world-view expanded and I let the doubts swallow me whole. I left the former black and white behind and slid into a murky gray, where I didn’t know anything about anything and I just kind of sat there for a really long time. Through it all, I still went to church every week, still attended Bible study and still felt in my heart that I was chasing the light, even if it was just a tiny pin-prick of it.

I started to see God in new ways: in the astounding beauty of nature, in the eyes of my children, in the power of the wind that He made. I let myself be OK with the mystery of the unknown, certain that He was the creator of this huge, crazy world, but I didn’t feel a deep sense of connection with Him. I longed for it, but mostly I just stayed busy with life and the days rolled into years that passed by so quickly.

Then last summer, I felt a lump on my four year-old daughter’s neck. It was big. And scary. And I was brought to my knees, both literally and figuratively. My first response was a plea for help from God. “Please let her be OK. Don’t let it be cancer. Take it away, take it away, take it away.” I spent sleepless nights, envisioning her in a hospital bed, her head bald from chemo, tubes sticking out of her everywhere and I just couldn’t handle it. I prayed and I prayed but the lump remained, and it had the doctors stumped. Thus began my summer of the biggest crisis of faith I had ever endured.

A wise, dear woman I have come to know in the past few years has played a key role in my (at times, very stunted) spiritual growth and a while back, she shed new light on the age-old story of Adam and Eve and it stuck with me. She said that when they were tempted to eat the fruit, the real questions they were wrestling with were, “Is God really good? And can we trust Him?”

Is God REALLY good? Look at this broken down world! The 30 year-old moms dying of breast cancer, the tsunamis, the depravity. How can He really be good?! And if, through all of that, He somehow proves Himself to be good, can I actually trust Him with my life? The lives of my kids?!

I spent weeks in that space, fighting, holding my breath, unable to imagine that He was actually going to be good for me. I held on tight to the situation in my heart with a closed fist, unable to imagine releasing control. If I gave Him permission to actually do His will, what would that mean? Would my daughter die?

Then, something shifted in me. A peace came. Slowly, it trickled in. And there was a song that helped me get there, one that I listened to on repeat as I drove in my car alone and cried.

A simple song that essentially says “Jesus Loves Me”.

I gradually opened my hands and my heart, surrendered this life to the One who made it, and rested in the fact that He loves us. That His will is best, even when it might be different than mine, even when there’s no way I’ll ever understand it. Through the months of doctor’s appointments, consultations with oncology at Children’s Hospital, ultrasounds and chest x-rays, He was good. And I could trust Him.

A year later, I find myself tucking my daughter in at night, so thankful that she is healthy and that the story had the ending I had hoped for. But also knowing that this life is not our own, that peace is not conditional on a positive outcome.

He loves us.



Angella - He does, indeed. Thank you for this reminder.

I love you Manda Paige.

Heidi F - This is a beautifully written post Amanda. I know a little of what it is like to be desperate for your kids to be ok and to wonder what will happen to your faith if it turns out they’re not. Good to remember that, no matter the outcome – He loves us – and loves our kids even more than we do, and ultimately, His plans for them are good. Thanks for your honesty.

Larry Schram - Yes. He does indeed love us and will indeed grant us peace.

Danica Grunert - I loved this. Such a wonderful glimpse into your heart.

I know a lot of people who grew up in the faith and endure these doubts and struggles and a lot of them never recover. I have found that I am very thankful at times that I came to God as an adult and that there is such a vivid and memorable contrast to what it was like to be without God and what it is like to know Him. It makes it easy for me. Even when things in life are really crappy I can cling to him, knowing that He is good, and when the world is full of hate, He is love. And that’s enough to get me through.

I’m so glad your girl is ok. What a scare to endure.