I'm curious how many blog posts have held this title.
So often we are amazed by the wisdom that comes from the mouths of children. On the other hand maybe that's because in contrast I am often amazed at how little sense I possess.
But then, that's just me.
Yesterday, T-boy came in crying to tell me Felicity had thrown his snack on the ground.
"Is she TRAZY?" He asked.
'No, son,' I thought to myself. 'Crazy is trying to write a book on top of all the other things you have to do.'
'Crazy is taking more pictures than you'll ever be able to post, write about, edit, print, or scrapbook.'
'Crazy is making a list a mile long of things you want to try, projects you want to complete and things you want to teach your children when you know the days are only getting shorter.'
'Crazy is thinking up a zillion things you want to do to your house when you've barely managed to unpack the essentials in the almost two months you've lived here.'
Then I wiped his tears and got him another snack.
Call Me Crazy