This is not my house

“This in not my bed” said the defiant voice trying to negotiate sleeping in the big bed with mommy and daddy. This is not my house. This is not my car. These are not my toys. She says these things out of the blue, on the best and smoothest days. Or when she doesn’t want to come home from visiting a friend. Or from spending a couple of hours at her grandparents downstairs.

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Summer days

One of the very soothing bedtime routines are listing all the people that love Jackie. She asks: “who else?” scrunching her nose, smiling with brimming delight.



Psalm 91

1 Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
2 I will say of the Lord, β€œHe is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”




One of the recent nights Jackie called out the 5th time saying softly, “am de ajutor” [i need help]. Usually the needs are as follows: i’m thirsty, cover me, i need to pee, sing me one more song, stay with me, rub my back, tell me who everyone loves me, bring me a toy and the list goes on. There are times when at the end of a very long day we ask her to filter well the reasons she calls us, as she sometimes asks for us to go in but she doesn’t think through what she wants.


Like a river

Life has entered a smooth season, of solid anticipation of waves, twists and turns. There is little to say about life, other than the fact that we are entering soon the summer vacation, and we wonder how that will be. Will the days seem long? will they fly by?