Dear God.

First and foremost, the smallest of the small ones around here might just have a new nickname.

The Reverend.


He prays all the time. During dinner each night, he reaches out his hands and a big grin creeps across his face, and as soon as you hold his hand he says,

Dear God.


It’s always a statement, too. Not really a greeting, or a plea. Just, “Dear God.” And then he does it about nine more times before start saying, “Just three more bites, and then we can do it again!” because our food is getting cold.

He might love praying so much because there’s a lot of clapping and a resounding, “In Jesus’ name, Amen…OOMPAH!” at the end of each prayer. I seriously thought Hank was going to have a heart attack when The Rev announced, “Dear God” while we were at a restaurant this weekend.

Nearly peed my pants.

Another “Dear God” moment? My camera body broke. I am naked. My fingers are all twitchy. I am lost. These are indeed, dark days.

Dear God, I am waiting for Canon to please, please, please send me an email to let me know that it is, indeed, safe and sound. Please, please, please have them tell me they can fix it. Muy pronto, please, please, please.

And after the kind FedEx boy assured me that his “packing specialist” would wrap it four times, then box it, then box that box before shipping it off, he gingerly asked questions about what kind of camera he should get, because his camera wasn’t good enough and so forth. There I stood, sniffling and my heart racing as he took my camera (I’m not kidding, and yes I know it’s pathetic), reassuring him that he could take good pictures after all. Think about that one artist who did a studio shoot with a point and shoot and harps on how you use your light. Or those couple of guys who did a whole blog about shooting with an iPhone to prove that lighting, composition, and retouching can do so much more than you’d imagine in the way of an awesome portfolio.

And after three days of mourning, I picked up my Canon Rebel Xsi tonight to start playing around again. It looks tiny with my 24-70mm lens on it, and part of me wonders if it’s just going to fall apart with that heavy lens on it. But it’s still a little workhorse. I’m disappointed to be working solely on this camera for the next few weeks, but you gotta do what you gotta do, even if you’re ISO capabilities stop way too low. Bleh.

Which brings me to the final “Dear God” of the day.

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The Rev has nearly worn me slick the past two evenings. Bedtime is a battle, and my heart just breaks every night. I’m tired and frustrated, his big brother is in tears from The Rev’s protesting, and I’m wearing my shoulders for earrings from the stress of it drawing them up so tightly.

Tonight, I punted and made him sit in a timeout in the chair in my office while I did a little work.

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After that long, two-hour protest before the chair time, he finally gave up.

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I want to hold him and comfort him. And then with my next breath I’m just at wit’s end with the ‘tude.

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Dear God had an awesome plan when He made them so sweet-looking while they sleep. It’s like insurance.

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But look at his little mouth, all drawn down. Still sad, even in his sleep.

Ugh. I hate battles.

Dear God, please help me be a patient Mama more consistently, especially when they don’t deserve it.

Dear God, thank You for being patient with me, especially when I don’t deserve it.

Sweet dreams out there.

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