“Hhhmmmm…..la la la la…….mmmm…..yeah, yeah yeah”
30 seconds later:
“Ahhhhhhh, ah ah ah ah. La la la la, la la la la la la. Ah, ah ah ah ah ah ah. The girl who has…everything.”
15 seconds later.
“Joy to the world. Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah..”
And so on.
This is the common soundtrack to our mornings. My five year old almost always starts singing before she’s out of her bed after waking up in the morning. She doesn’t discriminate with her choice of material – Disney songs, made up gibberish, hymns – anything is fair game and her repertoire is vast. I don’t know that she even has a favorite song – singing is just something that brings her joy. Continue reading “Lessons From a Singing 5 Year Old”
Cheryl Strayed wrote a book a few years ago called Tiny Beautiful Things – It’s a book based on her stint as an advice columnist known as “Sugar” and it’s full of people sharing their heart wrenching experiences and asking advice. It’s full of stories about the things that make being human so hard, yet at the same time, can hold so much beauty if we let them. The story I’m about to share isn’t about overcoming drug addiction or sexual assault or homelessness like many of the Dear Sugar columns were, but tiny beautiful things don’t have to be about overcoming the hardest stuff of life. They just have to be tiny and beautiful.
Continue reading “Tiny Beautiful Things”
Most of my childhood was spent living seven miles south of a small college town in eastern South Dakota. Days in the summer were spent outside in the fields around our five acre plot, picking berries and vegetables in the garden (enthusiastically…some of the time) and strategically placing Breyer horse models and My Little Ponies in various little nooks and crannies around the homestead. Spring was muddy and wet, but that just meant there were streams in the back in which to splash. Fall was about apples and jumping in piles of leaves and waiting for the first snowflake. Winter was all about burrowing into the snow, sledding down the hills in the neighbor’s pasture and skating on the frozen cow pond. My brothers and I roamed. Continue reading “Safety and Risk: Enough”