I Tweet, Therefore I am.


Y’all. I’m supposed to be fasting from social media right now.

See? See how well that’s going? This is me… fasting.

Allow me to explain:

When I started the Congo fast because my evil friend Kate suckered me into it without my full knowledge, comprehension, or understanding, and I did it out of the goodness of my heart and because I am totally spiritual and my goodness this is all a load of hooey.

ANYHOW. When I started the Congo fast w/ Kate for our Sunday school class… I thought… Well. Food. I have to fast from food for 40 days. That’s nearly impossible and as we all know I have caved like a Neanderthal about twenty times in the 40 days, but who’s counting?

As God is my witness, I thought the tortillas were going to be it.

But, as Kate has so patiently reminded me, also about twenty times, the Sunday school class does exceed 40 days. So, what are we gonna do for the other portion? Just sit around and talk about how fabulous we were for fasting?

Ok, so along with Chris Seay’s A Place at the Table, we read this gem:


I use the word “gem” because I have so few of them now, BECAUSE JEN KEEPS TELLING ME TO GIVE STUFF AWAY.

Ok, seriously. Here’s more explaining: We decided to also tackle, along with food the other items that Jen mutinies against. There right there on the cover for you: clothes, spending, waste, stress (har har har), waste, and MEDIA.



Guys. You can take my clothes and help me recycle and give me a budget and make me eat corn tortillas ’till the cows come home (that we can’t eat)


Here is the very real conversation I had with Kate about this whole media thing, yesterday:

Kate: I’m fasting from media and it’s going okay. How about you?
Me: *leans forward to the microphone* I cannot recall.

That’s a pretty fabulous Ollie North, right? And for those of you who are too young to understand my cheap mimicry of the general and his memory recall issues, what I REALLY said is something like this:

Me: NOOOOOOO. This is so HARRRRRRD. I’m eating rice and beans – you can’t make me NOT watch Netflix TOOOOOOOOOOO.

The wailing, I tell you, was heard one county over.

I ask you, what about all my quips? Where will the quipping go, if I cannot post about it? It will be like I don’t even exist.

Really. How can I live without the tweetings?

What if my children do something adorable? (rare, granted). Or the cat? What if the CAT does something adorable (hourly). How will I live without talking about it?

So, here is my announcement: Our Congo fast and its 40 days is over this Sunday. After that, I will be walking away from my computer for a week.

I will miss you *she waves weakly* Don’t you worry about me… *fading away* I’m sure I’ll be… just… fine *drops to the floor in a heap and makes sure her pose is flattering for a selfie*

Social media, y’all. It’s addictive stuff. I mean, really. If a tree falls in the forest and no one takes a picture of it for Instagram, does an angel lose his wings?

Or something like that.

Now, the only people I have yet to tell are the children. They’ll be joining me in this fast. No Netflixes. No Wii Rockband.

The cries will be heard from two counties over.

Pray for us.



Tuesday Takeout Guest Post!

I love guest posting.  It makes me feel very well-traveled and sophisticated.  And, kinda like this:


It’s good to be liked.


Come on over to Musings From a Stay At Home Mom.  Her blog is FULL of awesome reviews, recipes, and encouragement for us Momsies in the trenches.  Today I’m guest posting about Popsicles to Soothe the Savage Toddler.  The little beasties are always hungry, I tell you.


Happy Tuesday!


Musings From A Stay At Home Mom – Orange Yogurt Popsicles


Linking with Lisa-Jo Baker as a flash mob of writers this Friday.  We’re given a prompt and then we write, without worry about whether it’s just right.  Join us by clicking the link?

Today’s prompt:  CROWD

My children like to step on things. Namely, they like to step on me.

I sit on the couch, typing madly as they play in front of me, a mess of blocks and toys and legos decorate every surface.  My brain feels as cluttered.  About every four minutes, one of them comes over to me, promptly stands on my feet, and squirms past my computer, eyes locked on mine, grubby breath all over me.

At times this is cute.  At other times it kinda makes me want to scream.

I don’t get a lot of space.  Toddlers suck up space and make it all their own – they own rooms, toys, moms, time, naps, no naps, sleep, beds, mommy and daddy’s sleep, all the hugs and kisses they can get.  They own our kitten with a fierce love, albeit sometimes misguided, as they hug onto his neck just a bit too tight.  “GENTLE!!!!”  I roar.

I would like to roar the same for me – “GENTLE!” as they jump on my tummy as I try to do situps (rather apathetically, I must admit).  “GENTLE WITH MOMMY!” when they run past and kick over my tea or at my shins, or at some project that I must. get. done.

Toddlers don’t understand, they must crowd and push and sit upon.  They simply must, because to touch and conquer and talk to every second is way of them seeing and understanding and loving.  And getting love.

They smush me.

I shut the computer and smush back.  Thank you Lord Jesus for my children and all their bulldozer skills.  I love them.  Help me to be gentle with their hearts, with their unabashed, glorious, absolutely no clue about personal SPACE kinda love.  Give me more space in my heart.  Crack open my day for them.  Help me to be like You, for them.

But could we work on the part where they always stand on my feet?