Today, I’m writing with the Five Minute Friday community writing group, and this week’s word is RAIN.  If you’d like to join in (or just to read other great bloggers’ work), the linkup is here.

When I was a kid growing up in the sticks of Virginia, my mom would excitedly let my brother, sister, and I hang out on our front porch so we could watch as dark storm clouds rolled in.  Since our porch was covered, we felt perfectly safe under the roof even as hail balls the size of quarters pelted our front lawn.  Because of my mom being so excited for the storms, I never had a fear of those cracks of lightning or window-rattling booms of thunder.  I can’t however, say the same, for our dog Shep.  He was grateful we all piled onto the porch so he could weave around our laps for reassuring pets on the head and ear scratches.  Yesterday, a storm cloud was right over our house, yet the sun was bright in the sky just behind us.  I excitedly ran into my 2-year-old’s room and lifted up the shades so we both could see the sun glistening through the fat raindrops.  We then ran outside into the downpour so we could look for a rainbow.  We came back inside soaked and happy, despite not finding a rainbow.

Today, I’m back writing with the Five Minute Friday community writing group after a several month hiatus, and this week’s word is RUSH.  If you’d like to join in, the linkup is here.

I can remember my mom half-joking with me growing up that she had “people to see and things to do.” She no doubt said that to me because I was notoriously slow in getting ready.  Everyone in my family knows it, and now my dear patient husband knows to give me at least a half hour buffer so I’ll show up on time.  While I am totally aware of the fact that I dawdle and lose track of time, I am not patient at all when it comes to other people making me late.  I have zero grace for that, as hypocritical as it may be.  And yet, I have a nearly six month old and a two-year-old girl. I have a feeling God is trying to teach me something.  If I have a plan in my mind to go grocery shopping or to get to the YMCA or some other place, inevitably, my two year old will take her sweet time eating her Cheerios one. at. a. time.  If I’m already running late to get somewhere,  of course, my baby will have a huge blow-out diaper I have to change.  When I really think about it, my childhood memories are so sweet.  The long days of summer seemed to last forever.  Birthdays and Christmas and Thanksgiving took a lifetime to arrive.  I don’t want to rush my babies through each day.  I want to breathe them in.  Savor the bubbles of their precious, fragile, and fleeting childhood.