by Beth Woolsey -

I Dreamed Dreams. HELP ME.

I dreamed the other night that Greg grew very tall – perhaps 6’4″ or 6’6″ or something – which, obviously, enraged me. 

It was one in a series of vivid dreams I’ve been having lately. Because… I don’t know why. Perimenopause? My chemical imbalance? Blue Moon beer? A change in barometric pressure? Bad theology? The proliferation of British television programmes? Sleep, finding a new way to mock me besides the usual withholding of quality time together? What causes these things, anyway? And, more importantly, what do they mean? ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

Holding Hands in the Dark

Tracy was my best friend in elementary school, and, though her motives remain unclear, I suspect she chose me as a friend because she was kind, compassionate, and knew I needed her. 

And because she lived across the street so I was hard to avoid.

Not that she ever made me feel like she was avoiding me. On the contrary, she always made me feel welcome and wanted and loved.  ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

How do you get through times like this?

I’m trying to write this morning, because I have important follow-up work to do charting your booger rules and stuff, but Greg’s home and he keeps making breathing sounds and clickity clackity click clack typing sounds and allergy season sounds, and, unbeknownst to Greg, it’s all been very distracting. Now it’s after noon and he’s in the kitchen making toast buttering sounds like scritch scritch scritch and cupboard closing sounds and foot walking sounds and sandwich eating sounds and, well, you see how far I’ve come on the booger charts. ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

You Don’t Have to Choose a Parenting Method to be a Great Parent

I walked the floor with a baby on each shoulder gently bounce, bounce, bouncing them, my back burning, hoping to ease my twins to sleep. They must’ve been just a few weeks old, our fourth and fifth kids, recently out of the neonatal intensive care unit, all of us recovering from their premature birth as I tried to learn two new little ones. What worked. What didn’t. How to navigate a whole new life. Again. ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

Daylight Saving Time Kicks Butt

Daylight Saving Time kicks butt.

And whose butt does it kick?

OUR butts, parents.

DSTKicksButt

Our butts.

……….

I originally posted this on Facebook.

In case you don’t hang out with us there, here’s other stuff that happened recently on the Five Kids Facebook page:

  1. Mockery is, too, a love language.
  2. Boogers. 
  3. We detangle things. Like hair. And life.

People are nice over there. You’re always welcome to join us.

……… ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

Sleeping. In Surround Sound.

I made you something the other night while I was busy not sleeping. I not-sleep a lot because my children regularly and expertly outmaneuver my Ambien prescription and my 50 pairs of earplugs. Frankly, I think Ambien and Earplugs should just admit defeat and quit embarrassing themselves, but they went to a Tony Robbins workshop one time and they insist they can achieve their personal dreams. I don’t have the heart to destroy them so we bumble along together, trying. ...  read more