How to be called (on your birthday)

February 10, 2013 Karen Huber

So, we call you Jack, now.

I mean, we've always called you Jack. Your grandparents, aunts, uncles and sister call you Jack, and it has bounced between our tongues in our home from the moment we carried you into that first apartment. But to others, to the outsiders, to those whom we love but are still somewhat separate from our tight crew, you have always been Jackson. Until now.

I believe, and I know, and I groan

December 17, 2012 Karen Huber

Photo by Feliphe Schiarolli on Unsplash — Photo by Feliphe Schiarolli on Unsplash

We wait two days before sitting down with him. We let it wash over us in stinging cold waves before we allow him to wade in with us. We are torn. How do we share this? Do we even dare?

Next time, it will be different :: 31 days of messy parenting {day 31}

October 31, 2012 Karen Huber

There's a place right around the third level of hell that is commonly referred to as "Party City on Halloween Eve." This scary place is home to every giant cartoon balloon, sad/smutty lady costume, and wide-brimmed straw cowboy hat known to man.

And I have seen it, with my own two eyes. I have been there, and I have lived to write about it.

Of cocoa puffs and cobblestone streets :: 31 days of messy parenting {day 24}

October 24, 2012 Karen Huber

I like to think that my children lead a very glamorous life.

Airplanes and oceans and languages... strollers on cobblestone streets and nursing baby across from the opera house and stamps filling up the passport.

The freedom to be different :: 31 days of messy parenting {day 23}

October 23, 2012 Karen Huber

The most convicting thing I've read all week:

...the first characteristic of grace-based homes is...

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