The Best Days of My Life
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| Blog Name: | The Best Days of My Life |
| Url: | http://www.sarahmarkley.com |
| Language: | English |
| Topics: | parenting, writing, running |
| Description: | I am convinced that I am living in the best days of my life. I am a wife, a mother, a runner and a writer and I try to look at my family and the world around me with new eyes every day. My days are long, but the years are speeding by quickly |
| Popularity: | 95 Followers |
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The Pleasure is in the Hours
Hours to prepare. No, days to prepare if you count the meal planning, the sweeping and mopping and dusting, and the turkey choosing and purchasing. Even so, I was up early yesterday still in my pajamas frying bacon for grumbling tummies. I stayed in the kitchen while they watched the Rockettes in the Parade, wrestling a twenty-pound bird into a roaster, chopping the chocolate for the pecan pie, and the dicing the ginger and apples for my cranberry galette that would leak all over the oven later that afternoon. Hours. Families arrive bringing hugs with arms full of casserole dishes and cheek-kisses while setting down bags of sweet rolls. And then together
Hours to prepare. No, days to prepare if you count the meal planning, the sweeping and mopping and dusting, and the turkey choosing and purchasing. Even so, I was up early yesterday still in my pajamas frying bacon for grumbling tummies. I stayed in the kitchen while they watched the Rockettes in the Parade, wrestling a twenty-pound bird into a roaster, chopping the chocolate for the pecan pie, and the dicing the ginger and apples for my cranberry galette that would leak all over the oven later that afternoon. Hours. Families arrive bringing hugs with arms full of casserole dishes and cheek-kisses while setting down bags of sweet rolls. And then together
Thank (YOU)
Thank (YOU) for leaving amazing comments here on Monday. It truly blessed me to read them. And I’m not just saying that. Thank (YOU) for being such an amazing community. You’ve allowed me into YOUR lives by sharing your stories with me. I’ve been changed by knowing you. So thank (YOU) for writing down your thank-yous for us all to read. I’m happy to be
Thank (YOU) for leaving amazing comments here on Monday. It truly blessed me to read them. And I’m not just saying that. Thank (YOU) for being such an amazing community. You’ve allowed me into YOUR lives by sharing your stories with me. I’ve been changed by knowing you. So thank (YOU) for writing down your thank-yous for us all to read. I’m happy to be
Prince Charming
“Are you going to get married someday?” I ask my three-year-old. She scrunches up two little eyes and a nose in disgust and stomps, “NO!” “But what if it’s Prince Charming?” I ask, hoping to memory-jog the recent emergence of Prince Charming and Snow White in our video library. She thinks, relaxes her face and asks, “Is he three?” Apparently an age near hers and a proclivity for watching Strawberry Shortcake top her demand list for a future husband. However, my older daughter wants to get married. In facial distortions and hand gestures she answers all of my questi
“Are you going to get married someday?” I ask my three-year-old. She scrunches up two little eyes and a nose in disgust and stomps, “NO!” “But what if it’s Prince Charming?” I ask, hoping to memory-jog the recent emergence of Prince Charming and Snow White in our video library. She thinks, relaxes her face and asks, “Is he three?” Apparently an age near hers and a proclivity for watching Strawberry Shortcake top her demand list for a future husband. However, my older daughter wants to get married. In facial distortions and hand gestures she answers all of my questi
Panic
I know her ears get hot and it becomes hard to hear the teacher. I know her back feels tingly and that she can’t control the expression on her face or the tears that begin in the corner of her eyes when Logan says what he says to her every day. “You’re mean!” he whispers under his breath as she walks by his desk. Unprovoked. Uncensored. Unecessary. And a little inncuous to adult ears. The label of “mean” by an eight-year-old is hardly comparable to other curse words she could be called. Still, she panics. She reacts to the word, the attack, as most little girls w
I know her ears get hot and it becomes hard to hear the teacher. I know her back feels tingly and that she can’t control the expression on her face or the tears that begin in the corner of her eyes when Logan says what he says to her every day. “You’re mean!” he whispers under his breath as she walks by his desk. Unprovoked. Uncensored. Unecessary. And a little inncuous to adult ears. The label of “mean” by an eight-year-old is hardly comparable to other curse words she could be called. Still, she panics. She reacts to the word, the attack, as most little girls w
I’m not a Giveaway Girl, but…
Oprah does it. And now I’m doing it. And to be honest I haven’t watched Oprah since I was on bedrest pregnant with my OLDEST daughter 8 years ago. Anyhoo… If you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time then you will know that I’m not really a giveaway girl. I’ve given away books written by my friends and acquaintances in the last year, but I’ve never done anything li
Oprah does it. And now I’m doing it. And to be honest I haven’t watched Oprah since I was on bedrest pregnant with my OLDEST daughter 8 years ago. Anyhoo… If you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time then you will know that I’m not really a giveaway girl. I’ve given away books written by my friends and acquaintances in the last year, but I’ve never done anything li
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