You have declared this day that the Lord is your God and that you will walk in His ways… and the Lord has declared this day that you are His people, His treasured possessions as He promised, and that you are to keep all His commands. Deuteronomy 26:17 & 18
My husband and I met seventeen years ago. Our dating life was incredibly fun. We knew the key to a good relationship was compromise. But if one person was compromising more than the other, the balance would be off. Furthermore, in the beginning glow of romance, people can sometimes compromise so much, they lose themselves. To avoid this pit-fall, we created special rules around our weekly date nights.
Each week, we alternated who planned the date. Rule #1 was the “planner” organized the evening without consulting the other. Rule #2 was the “receiver” had to act as if he/she were enjoying the evening, even if he/she wasn’t. Not only did this plan keep the scale balanced, it exposed each of us to things we never would have tried had these rules not existed. The interesting thing about pretending to have enjoy yourself is, once you force yourself to be open to something, you let go of your preconceived notions. Before you know it, you’re truly having fun!
Had you ever told me that I’d enjoy a Celtic’s game or virtual golf, I would have said you were crazy. Had you ever told my husband that he’d enjoy salsa dancing or a moonlit labyrinth walk, he would have said you were crazy. But our date night rules led us both to not only learn each other’s interests, but to actually enjoy them. It really was a magical time.
That is, until we had kids. Once our first child was born, the date night train screeched to a halt. At that time, we thought we didn’t need it anymore: we were so blissfully happy to be parents.
When that glow wore off, we were too exhausted to invest the time and energy to plan and implement creative date nights. Plus, I wasn’t working anymore. The idea of paying a sitter each week, plus the cost of the dates themselves, didn’t seem logical. So our date nights soon morphed into watching a show on Netflix together one night a week.
I turned the big 5 – 0 last week. I’d love to say I still feel 30, but there are a lot of days when that’s just not the case. For too long I lived life on overdrive, never taking care of myself in the process. I got away with that for the first 45 years of my life, but it all caught up to me in year 46.
We took our kids to Disney World for the first time last week. My husband and I decided to keep it all a surprise. For the “big reveal,” we put Disney Dollars in their breakfast boxes that they opened, bleary eyed, at 4:30 a.m. on the car ride to the bus that would take us to the airport.
My boys have terrible handwriting. The more dull the pencil, the sloppier their work. It drives me nuts! I’m one of those perfectionists who believes that you should take pride in whatever you do, make it look the best you can.
We lost my nephew to a heroine overdose on Saturday. He was incredibly loving, kind and gentle. This immense tragedy has rocked my family to the core. I struggled with whether to write about it here or not: whether it would be disrespectful to his memory, and just too much for a mommy blog. But I’ve decided to do so with the hope that good can come out of our great loss.
Jocelyn got a candy jewelry set in her basket at Easter. She was enamored with the candy charm dangling from the bracelet. In fact, she couldn’t keep her eyes off it. Later that day, as she gazed at the bracelet instead of the stairs she was walking down, she fell. She landed hard, and got two bruises on her hip.
There was another great gem that came out of 
A mom recently took me aside to share something her son had told her about my boys. His words were, “Zack and Mason are so nice to each other. They’re really great brothers.” My heart swelled with extreme pride.
Shifting My Perspective 