Posts in The Smith Family
In the early folds of 2019

We Smiths know how to hustle. We know how to hurry to the car, speed through our chores, sprint after work for home group/soccer/basket ball/counseling, and slam into the weekend pushing 90 mph. We know how to scarf down a meal or transition from bath-teeth-brushing-bed in under ten minutes. We know running late, barely late, legitimately late, and insanely embarrassingly late. We know fast conversations, hasty kisses, blur-typed texts, and early morning panic. We’re a family of off-road short cuts, rigged/ducktaped hacks, almost rights, and scattered haircuts, oil changes, and birthday cards that almost feel a few months early they’re so late.

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The Smith FamilyJenny Smith
If your daily life seems poor. . .

“If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself, tell yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches; for to the creator there is no poverty and no poor indifferent place.”
- Rainer Maria Rilke, “Letters to a Young Poet”

Being a mother brings out the worst in me sometimes. It releases the tired, selfish, task-oriented, distracted self that doesn’t want to “deal” with my little boys and their woes (and boy do my little boys have woes). I can get beat down by the routine of just getting from point a to b in the week that I miss the special moments of their childhood. It makes me queasy to think of it here, but of course, I don’t realize I’m doing it at the time. Every once in a while, though, God’s restraining grace slows me down a bit and I can just sit back and marvel at these three little humans that he’s lent me. 

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March 2, 2017 in Denton, Tx

Would you believe that on March 2nd, in Denton, Tx it was so warm we actually played in the sprinklers? And saw a rainbow? And ate soft serve ice cream, the vanilla slurry spilling over our hands and chins? That we laid outside on the grass to look at the five stars we can see in the sky and talked about Kindergarten? Can you believe it's almost / already summer in Denton, Tx? 

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars." - ON THE ROAD, Jack Kerouac

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