Thoughts are Everywhere.

They are. My thoughts are all over. That`s a lot why I post so little. I can never pick just one topic.

So, I`ll write about a few.

#1. How your kids make your day in the tiniest ways.

Like this morning, when Elle was up early with G and I- and she sat with us while we drank our coffee and prayed. Then, when her daddy was ready to leave, she wanted us to kiss, so we did. A peck.

“No, a longer one”, she said. So we did a longer kiss just for her, and she just smiiiiiled, like she had never been more pleased.

And that pleased us, to see her so pleased.

Or, like right now when her and Laila wanted another sausage, and I stuck it in the microwave and promptly forgot about it, and about 5 minutes later I hear her little voice, with a gentle reminder:

“Mom, I can hear a beep coming from the ‘marker-wave’ “.

Just the way she says ‘microwave’ makes me happy and filled with mirth.

Or like last night I was reading her a story and Elle said,

“That flower is the most beautiful.” (She never looks at anything, without pointing out her best thing on the page or whatever it may be.)

“It is a lilac”, I said.

And she said,

“What ‘zactly is a lilac?”

AndΒ  I knew she threw ‘exactly’ in there, just to hear me go off about “HOW do you know how to use that word correctly!?”

And she said in her usual fashion:

“I just do.”

If I say,

“WHY are you so smart?” (Because apparently all kids enjoy hearing that.)

“I just am.”

I love her so much.

I love my other one just as much- I just didn`t chose to post on her today.

#2. Why do I meet all the strange people when I shop?

For instance.

Yesterday I walk into Dollar General to grab 2 items: Tide and Mentos. (I had good coupons.)

I walk up to the cash to stand in line with other shoppers. As usual, my mind is thinking thoughts outside of the Dollar General.

A very usual-looking man walks up to stand in line behind me and another woman.

“Hey Guys! Wait I guess I should say LADIES!” He says and laughs riotously.


The woman in front of me and I both turn around. I look around to see who he was talking to. See no one. Forget in the next second he said anything. Continue blankly staring at the tabloids. Spend thoughts thinking about how silly it is that Camilla Parker-Bowells wouldn`t want to be queen. Waste more thoughts thinking Demi and Ashton may never repair their marriage.

(Demi. If you had asked me whether it`s a good idea to marry a man your daughter could be dating…… Well.)

Spend one last thought thinking how dull and desperate I must look, even looking at the tabloids. I look at the gum again. So many brands- yet they all taste the same. I glance at the store gift cards lustfully.

The line is not moving.

When it is my turn to pay, the Lurking Man behind me says to the female cashier:

“What is with all the bashful women? That first one just ran out the door with out saying a word to me. She was a bashful one all right! And that`s a bashful one right there.” (He jerks his head sideways to me.)

(Oops, I guess he was greeting me earlier.)

Another woman walks in the door, Lurking Man greets her and then comments,

“Now THERE was a friendly one! She was friendly.”

After I handed cashier my dollars, and was about to walk away, Lurker turns to me and says,

“Hey, hi there, doncha need to be scared, it`s not like I`m gonna kill ya or anything, lady!”

I stared at him and not a word came out of me. Not because I was so scared- OR BASHFUL- I just couldn`t say in all honesty:

“I know.”

I have stories like that various times.

#3. Why do I hate getting dressed up these days?

It`s an older thing.

The older I get, the more I want to cuss feel irate whenever I have to get dressed up.

When I was young in my late teens or early 20s, give me a banquet/date/fancy night to anywhere- oh give me a crowd to work! I will work it. A little make-up. Yes! Itchy, tight clothes. Sure! A lot of chatting? Yes! Meeting people I don`t know- making small talk? Bring me those and a few more.


I torture myself with the fact that I am rusty at people skills, and I like comfy clothes the best. If it`s knit, velour, or breezy cotton I will like it. I like to stay at home. “Home is what I like best”- as Elle would say.

Going out is stressful. And I don`t mean going to a friends house to chew the flab. That can be done in a sweatshirt and a face rubbed with bar soap- that can be done with ease.

I mean anywhere where make-up would be in order.

I blame it on my children.

(Don`t let this family photo fool ya.)

Take Sunday morning for example:

I wake up in good time.

My first thought as I see a morning mirror always is: Is that me? I really, really don`t look like me first thing in the morning. I try to fathom that by 9:15 this morning, I will look like me again. I shake my head. I have a long ways to go.

I Shower. Now it`s time to wake up the girls- and like most Sunday mornings they wake up crying. I bath them, or Galen does, and then I go to wash my hair. When I am done with that- I see the girls are playing with water in the sink, they have a few little dolls and are bathing them. The bathroom floor is wet. This is super irritating to me, especially since the bathroom didn`t get cleaned the day before, and I am mentally adding all the water on the floor to the germs and disgusting crusties I know are lurking everywhere. A tiny bathroom HAS to be clean, or it`s just a riot in there.

I kick a towel around try to soak up the water. It`s kinda works.

There are now 3 wet towels, a half a bag of bath toys, and a whole collection of other clothes we have shed that morning on the floor. I am not fine with it.

I walk over to our room (with the unmade bed) and step on a tiny doll and 2 hangers. I kick the hangers down the steps (they need to go to the laundry room) and the tiny doll gets flung into the girl`s room. The girl`s room looks cluttery which leads me to make the mental note: We need to take another load to Goodwill.

The girls are now dressed, and G gives them breakfast downstairs. They come back up with milk down the front of their dresses. I mentally kick myself for not giving them breakfast in their underwear. We change dresses, but now the hair is all tufty from pulling the dress down over.

The shoes are all wrong with the new dress. We re-comb the tuft, and switch shoes. Now the bow is all wrong too.

I try a side-ponytail on Elle, and she feels it up with her tiny hand. It`s not right. It`s on the side. Horrors.

[The look I was going for.]

“One ponytail!” she requests. Her usual.

I promise her a treat, if she will for one Sunday PLEASE let me try a new hairstyle on her.

She is unmoved.

I promise her a dollar to buy a toy.

“I don`t need anything”, she says.

Well, I can`t argue with that.

Laila picks then to have a “needy moment” and wails to be held. I hold her and rock her in a brisk fashion. My brisk fashion only adds to her despair. She wails on. My heart really goes out to her.

Elle, you too? You want to be held to? I try to hold both and finally, seeing the time, I beg off.

It`s time to get mom dressed. Now I am feeling hot. Hahaha, not that kind of hot- I mean the warm kind. When I get stressed, I always feel really hot. when I am hot, the last thing I want to do is be dressed nice.

I crank up my hot iron. I mean, I may be a Mennonite lady, so 99.9% of my hair goes up, but we do need the flat iron for those 5 other hairs. I feel a tug on my leg.

“Hold me.”

I take a much needed break, and sit on the bed for 5 minutes holding girl 2.

Oh look at the time!

As I`m back at it, and reaching for my $30 pot of magical blush I realize at the same time:

1. Laila ate my blush last week, and smeared the rest on the carpet. I don`t have my magical blush pot anymore.

2. There is continued effort of tugging on my leg.

This time I am sick of the tugging. I try to remain nice (sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn`t) but inside I want to kick things off of my legs.

“Go. play.” I say, and smile woodenly.

Next, WHERE is my blouse. It`s not ironed? Honestly, Jenny. Really, you didn`t have time to iron that on Saturday?

My iron is in the basement. I run down 2 flights of steps. Run back up 2 flights up steps. I am in my room again. An undershirt. Really? You forgot that too? It`s hanging in the basement where my laundry room is. I do the down and up thing again. Galen seems worried I won`t be ready in time. Panic sets in. I am now wondering the same.

Gah! honestly, hair. Could you just be cool for a change?

I end up wearing a cardigan that isn`t my favorite. The color is odd with my blouse but my more-white cardigan is missing. And… it`s lotion time. Lotion is smeary and oily and makes me feel gross. I grit my teeth feeling the smeary-ness of it.

I can`t find any of my ‘pretty things’- as Elle calls my make-up- so I leave most of it.

As we go out the door, Elle says,

“Where is my shoe? I lost my one shoe!”

G says,

“Which coats are they wearing this morning?”

Bless my husband’s heart, he is a trooper.

We go to church. Church cheers me up. I have some good conversations. I feel connected again.

We come back home, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, half of my hair-bun fell down, and is dangling there, mocking me.

(Happened last Sunday.)

“Was it like this the whole time?” I holler over to G.

He has no idea.

I think it was.

I sigh.

I put on my pajamas. Everyone but G changes to pjs…

(He is notorious for forgetting to take off church clothes. One Sunday we vegged all day and at TEN O’CLOCK AT NIGHT I see he is still wearing his dress clothes- and Oh my stars, he is still wearing his shoes and socks from church that morning. I thought I might die laughing.)

…We are spending the rest of the day at home. I think of how un-cool I am. But I am happy. Happy to be at home with the people I love.

A clause: (This is kind of all our worst mornings rolled into one. It`s going better. I lay out clothes the night before, and try to clean the bathroom on Saturdays now.)

#4. I am an under-achiever; with high expectations for myself.

(Which is illustrated over and over in my story above.)

I am not going to say a whole lot about this. But in my little head, the two schools of thought, really war against each other. I`m sure you can imagine.

[I want to live cold winter like this (above). Do minimal amount of chores, read a lot, drink hot things together, sit around with my girls during the day and talk… it`s blustery out, after all!]

Yet, feel torn to be more like this lady and GET MORE DONE! Paint our room the way I have been dreaming of for 2 years now. I have the supplies. Sew those cute dresses I have the pattern, ribbon and fabric for. Iron all ‘however many’ of Galen dress shirts all at once- for a change. On and on.

It`s like I am a really hard-working, lazy person. (I wish I could call it well-rounded, but I can`t.)

Maybe I`ll write more on this later.

[Was weird, after I wrote this, I saw this. ^^ Seen here on Knack.]

Please someone else talk now!


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  1. Amber says:

    HATE Sunday mornings like that…and so many are. Glad we’re normal. πŸ™‚ I used to dream and wish for little girls so I could comb their hair. Little did I know they would hate to have their hair combed, hate anything besides a plain braid or ponytail. Maybe someday they’ll learn to love my hair-styling expertise. LOL!

  2. Anonymous says:

    how am i supposed to ‘talk’ when i’m laughing too hard…you are WAY too hard on yourself and you always look great! i love being home and your idea of how to live cold winter sounds wonderful to me…do it ~ ruby

  3. Charlotte says:

    Your Sunday morning descriptions have me laughing so hard I almost snorted! I also despise the Sunday morning “routine.” Especially since I wait to get up until the last minute and then try to throw together some kind of outfit that puts me into panic mode when it doesn’t work out and I have to go for plan “B”. My husband is super time-conscious and does NOT like to be late. Bless his heart he usually ends up getting the kids ready while I’m doing my “thing.” I pretty much dislike getting dressed every morning because I don’t know what to wear. BTW, I love your sense of humor – it’s so refreshing!

  4. Shannon H says:

    I really did lol! πŸ™‚ Those Sunday mornings drive me crazy. I am the one that likes to be on time (early), have everyone in tip top shape, and be sane (as in, not mad at the whole crew.) BUT do you think all those things ever happen at the same time? One word: KIDS!

    Love the line about being a hard working lazy person! I could totally handle that!

  5. linda hershey says:

    i can’t even think enough to comment. i am laughing and amening and sighing all at once. and i had to tell Weldon what you wrote about Galen leaving his shoes and socks on all day. it just struck me so funny.
    you are amazing to hold your baby on a frantic sunday morning. every sunday morning i could cry. i have written so many posts in my head over it all. not just the chaos of getting four girls ready but the nightmare of looking good and happy and ready for hymns. and my soul is darkest on sunday. then i go to church and i am about always SO GLAD i got there. but i dread sundays. and i hate that i dread them. it sounds so heathen.

    • Maria S. says:

      Totally agree, Linda.

      Sundays involve so many of my least-favorite things (nylons that are too tight, finding a nice outfit amongst more too-tight clothes, sitting still for a long time, being smiley and chatty, etc), with a large dose of pressure on top (get somewhere on time, look presentable, look holy and happy, act holy and happy.) And after the morning comes the afternoon, when I’m not supposed to work. So I sit and think of all the stuff that’s waiting to be done, notice the dusty corners, all the sewing I could do in one long uninterupted afternoon.

      I guess that makes two heathen, huh?

  6. lisa says:

    no, i dont want anyone else to talk. you are the funniest.

  7. Elizabeth says:

    See….I am going to let my husband read about your Sunday morning. Only you didn’t mention that you were super late. That may or may not be a consistant problem in our house.*cough*.

    I laughed through this. You crack me up. I Love your blog. =)

  8. April says:

    You’re the best Jenny!

    Water on the floor, children tangled around ankles, no magic blush pot, wrinkly shirt in the basement, disobedient bun… I was grinning from ear to ear πŸ™‚ That is Sunday morning at my house. Add to that the contents of my dresser and closet spread all over the bedroom!

    It is humorous but it does start to weigh on a body. Start to feel all frayed at the edges.

    PS~ your Christmas cards were impossibly adorable! Even the envelope was darling. That was the happiest mail I’ve gotten in a long time πŸ™‚

    • Jenny K. says:

      you said: “but it does start to weigh on a body. Start to feel all frayed at the edges.”

      amen! thats what i was trying to say- and never quite got it said….:)

  9. Dorcas says:

    Oh, my. That was funny. Made my morning!

  10. Ruth Troyer says:

    Oh Jenny – you really had me laughing out loud and its morning! I’m not a morning person, this is huge. So many things I can totally relate to it just plain sounded like you were describing us, but for some reason it just brings out the giggles when its someone else and not me… and written so well! Have a happy day! You sure are not alone!

  11. Jo says:

    Loved this! Can identify. Although, seems like you handle it in a sweeter fashion than someone else I know. I tend to get the hairy eye ball from Nater about the time I’m on the edge. Love that G is up on the “which coat this time?” thing. Darling. Your family is just that.

  12. Anna Miller says:

    Oh my, I hate Sunday mornings. Sometimes I wonder if the time will ever come when I sit down in church and really feel ready to worship, I’m usually a frazzled mess by then. And I know what you mean about getting dressed up, sometimes it just looks like too much work. It’s a project -I mean, where do you start?

  13. Amy Showalter says:

    Jenny i love how “chatty” your blog is, like there’s always a good conversation going on. I feel the same way about being “hard-working-lazy”. I have a theory that my personality is in conflict with my birth order. Being the oldest daughter i need to feel like i have a jump on things, imagining myself as an over-achiever with visions of order and perfection in my head.. but my personality would rather be-bop around enjoying the day in meaningful conversation and spontaneous puttering because those are the things that i really value.
    The only conclusion i’ve come to is that it points me to my constant need for God’s Spirit to guide me. If i’d just learn to listen!

    • shelly n says:

      Don’t know who amy showalter is . . . but you totally comfort me with your sentence, “Being the oldest daughter i need to feel like i have a jump on things, imagining myself as an over-achiever with visions of order and perfection in my head.. but my personality would rather be-bop around enjoying the day in meaningful conversation and spontaneous puttering”. I was just trying to explain this very thing to a friend last night. Comforted that I’m not the only one! πŸ™‚

  14. Bevy says:

    geesh!! that man would’ve scared me too. I’m bashful like that, too. And for good reason apparently.

    Oh! And I thought we were the only ones who donned PJ’s IMMEDIATELY after church. Too funny…

    I think more than you know feel the way you do about rushing around, trying to get out the door – at a decent time – and everyone is still alive to tell about it…and then get to church, sit down, sigh and soak in – what? I hate to admit this but there are an awful lot of Sunday’s when I come back home and don’t remember a darn thing. I hate that. I can really struggle to “enter in” – not just with the Lord but even with the afterfellowship with friends and family. I know it means a daily walk…living the talk…on a regular day-to-day, during the daily grind.

    Blessings to you – as we journey on!

  15. shannon says:

    Sunday mornings have always been a trial for me, but we now attend a church that starts their service at 10 and is only 5 min. away. I cannot even tell you the difference it has made in our Sunday mornings. We are so much more relaxed and excited for church when we’re not racing around shouting at everyone to get showered, get changed, get your coat on etc… and I can sometimes get the kitchen cleaned up and food made so that when we get home we just whip it out on the nice clean table and sit down to eat. Now I look forward to Sunday mornings as a start to a laid back day. Love them. Loved your post too –

  16. Laurie says:

    Wow, you made real life funny and so “oh I can relate to that.” And right now I’m stalling by reading this when I need to go iron the many shirts that I pushed off over Christmas vacation. Thanks for the refreshing post.

  17. Lynnelle says:

    I’m not sure I’d just “smile woodenly” but I’d probably just kick off those things hanging on my legs instead. Your Sunday morning routine sounds a little too familiar. And I’m only for dressing up anymore if I know that my shoulders won’t end up with spit-up, jelly, tears or snot on them.
    loved this post!

  18. Shelley smucker says:

    I can identify with so much it’s hard to know where to start…even the whole “not posting much because there are just too many thoughts”. I do that all the time! I love the stories about your girls, the comments about the tabloids were just classic, and can I just amen that Sunday morning scene?! So often I find myself with half my closet on the floor, (or half of trying to find outfits, bathroom’s a disaster, lunch all ready in the crockpot is a pipe dream, and we’re stressed and running late. NOT how I want Sundays to be! I am working on that:)

    Bless you for your hilarious, real-life, delightful blog.

  19. Shelley smucker says:

    Urg I dislike typos! Shouldn’t be doing this from my phone:p

  20. Rachel says:

    I find it amazing that your husband would still be wearing his church clothes in the evening. My husband is the FIRST to change after we get home, not into pjs, mind you, but some comfy jeans and a tee.
    And our Sunday mornings can be hectic too, if i have all the clothes planned and ironed the day before then things go well, but yeah, it doesn’t always work that way.

  21. Jan says:

    This post is so great! On a sunday morning our house is this and then some, + a long drive to church. 1hr should leave plenty of time to let go and be in the spirit…umm yeah, we’re working on that, learn your verse, don’t kick, i said keep your hands away from her hair… and then we hit the railroad tracks and one of the kiddos can belt out “let us go into the house of the Lord” (tradition) and we’ve made it (sigh). Usually we’re sliding in during the last song b4 sundayschool. Socially I have swung the pendilum towards the hermit side – all I think of is are they off the road? are they in the mud? is she barefoot?
    And I love when my 4yr olds yell “get in the ban (van)” or haul a box of “all sings (things) beautiful” into my kitchen for me. They are my delight,but I’m a wooden smile/kicker combo type of mom. Life is good – posts like yours let me laugh at the craziness – Jan

  22. Nettie Miller says:

    We may all be smiling…or laughing uncontrollably…but your life sounds like so many of ours πŸ™‚ It’s good to know we are not alone. My husband too, will wear his Sunday clothes and shoes till I’ve asked him if he plans on staying home a while…my daughter acts like I am killing her if I ask her to do anything but flat iron her hair… however hot pink hair spray is just fine…and yes, yesterday morning I realized I have applied make-up twice in the last week and half and that included yesterday’s application.

    We MUST lower those expectations that we place on ourselves!! We are beautiful, creative, amazingly gifted woman…super woman to our families…even if our capes more closely resemble sweat pants and soft sweaters.

    Quote from my son who is 6 and I wanna stick him in a bubble: “Mom, you are always beautiful…except maybe that hair!” giggle…at the time it was sticking out in multiple directions.

  23. DY says:

    Nice to know we’re not alone! For the most part, we know “zactly” how you feel.

  24. Sherilyn Miller says:

    I’m just dying laughing, like snort, spit my milk out laughing… and the whole not changing clothes thing is so completely and totally Brian I can’t believe it!!
    I am always scared that someone is going to drop in unexpectedly Sunday afternoon and see me in plaid pjs and Brian completely still decked in his Sunday best. πŸ™‚

  25. Pauline Martin says:

    you’re adorably, refreshingly honest & I hope blogging is one of your minimals….

  26. shelly n says:

    I’m sitting here reading on a Saturday afternoon when I should get started on that list of stuff to do to make tomorrow morning a little more relaxed and pleasant, right? I told my phil the past few weeks {again} that I really hate Sunday mornings. And sometimes i stress myself out so much that I give myself gallbladder issues . . . and have “stomach ache” for the rest of the Sunday! Wow, talk about a day of rest! It’s the worst morning of the week as far as that goes. There has to be a way to make it better . . . and I’m trying to figure it out and implement change. BUT until I get it down, we sound a little too much like you and yours. And getting dressed up? I’m with you on that. Used to like it, or at least think that I liked it. But I can’t handle heels these days because of too many bags and kids to carry around. I can’t stand anything uncomfortable and tight or itchy. I’m trying to still look good while choosing comfortable clothes, because I figure that if I at least FEEL good, I can’t get irritable over *that*. Thanks for this hilarious post. I had to stifle my giggles ’cause the kids are sleeping. πŸ™‚

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