Shell's Diaries

I've decided to dedicate Sundays to "Grateful Sunday" for blog posts.  I most likely won't do it every week. I'm sure many of you don't want to be bothered by it as well.  But I love Sundays for a variety of reasons, and figured a productive use of my time would be to express my gratitude for the day's happenings.  So let's go..... 1) I am grateful I remembered to take the detour to church today, as a particular road/bridge is closed for a little while.   2) I am grateful I made it through two hours of singing time with the children at church. I was exhausted, sweating and relieved it was done. 3)  I am grateful I attempted cooking my roast in a different fashion.... it is not done yet, but does look promising.  We shall see, the biggest critics have yet to taste. 4)  I am grateful my husband does genealogy... we may have found some long lost 2nd cousins today!! 5)  I am grateful the hurricane back east is subsiding... I know that doesn't make it

Nope. This isn't a pro life/pro choice blog post. Sorry to disappoint those who clicked on my link hoping for  a good read and perhaps debate on this social/moral issue. I do enjoy talking politics, but not for now.  I've had a lot on my mind lately about choices, and how we are in control of them, the one's we make.   I came across an awesome quote the other day via facebook...... "You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have." - Unknown.   I liked it so much, I posted it and shared it too.  As much as I love this quote, I kind of disagree with it, to some degree.  And I've gone back and forth in my mind whether or not what I'm reasoning in my head is right, or at least, right to me. After McKenna (my first born baby) died at nearly 4 months of age, I would often be told, "Oh you are sooo strong Shelley, I don't know how you could ever deal with that, I just couldn't do it."  My response to them al

My children are growing up too darn fast for me, right before my eyes.  I don't like it, never have.  This morning, at 4:45 a.m. John and I dropped our oldest son off to venture to Boy Scout camp.  He will be gone for 6 days.  As I sat in the van while John and Hunter gathered around the circle of boys at The Home Depot (where they all met before they left) I got a lump in my throat because of the reality of what hit me.  My son is growing up.  There's nothing I can do about it, and I had better get used to it.  Except that I don't want to get used to it. I keep telling my children to stop growing, but they simply won't listen to me.  They just laugh, and think I'm silly. As we drove away from the parking lot, where I have left my boy in the hands of well trained leaders, I say a little prayer in my heart for Hunter that he will be okay, that he will pray when he needs help, that he'll be a good example, remember who he is, and to be respectful to his leaders.