Hey, friends! I hope you’ve had a really good week. As you read this, I’m hopefully resting and reading and hanging with a friend in Santa Barbara. As I write it, though, I’m at my dining room table in Fairbanks. There’s snow.

Anyway. Here we go!

Kid quote:

(Lilly is crying after she’s been put to bed.)
Andrew: Lilly, what’s wrong?
Lilly: I need my hotty book!
A: Your… hotty book?
L: My hotty book!
A: What color is it?
L: White!
A: Does it have a bear in it?
L: Yes.
A: Does it have a kid in it?
L: Yes.
A: Does it have a water bottle in it?
L: Yes.
A: I don’t know any book with a water bottle in it. I’m sorry, baby, you’re gonna have to either find clearer words or do without.
A: I don’t know what a “hotty book” is.
(repeat for several minutes…)
L: Hahahaha! Here it is! In my hand!
A: HOCKEY PUCK. Say “Hockey puck.”


White Fragility by Robin Diangelo. I mentioned this in yesterday’s post. It’s gentler than I expected it to be, but still poking me constantly. I’m reading both slowly and obsessively. Honest and thorough and answering every one of my white-worldview questions.


I came across this 22-second video ages ago, but I thought of it again lately and it will never not be adorable:

Moment of Happiness:

Last weekend, we went to a fall festival at the fairgrounds. We tried to leave right after Jenna got home from school, but J was having NONE OF IT. Her attitude was horrible. She wanted to stay home. She wailed and dragged her feet and catastrophized. I sent Sarah to talk to her and eventually we herded her into the car. By the time we got to the fairgrounds, her attitude had changed entirely. Look how much fun she was having!

Little bit of nature:

It’s getting chilly here.

This post is part of my series, 31 days of speaking the truth. You can find the whole list of them here on the first post of the series.

Published by robininalaska

Robin Chapman is a part-time writer, editor, and birth photographer and a full-time imperfect mama, wife, Jesus follower, and normalizer of failure. She’s trying hard to learn how to do this motherhood thing in a way that doesn’t land the whole family in intensive therapy. She has a heart for helping other mamas buried in the little years with hope, humor, and solidarity. You can find her hiding out in the bathroom with an iced dirty chai, writing and editing and making spreadsheets for KindredMom.com where she is a cheerleader for mamas, or online looking for grace in her mundane and weird life. She lives in Fairbanks, Alaska with her four delightful (crazy) kids—some homeschooled, some public schooled, some too young for school at all—and her ridiculously good looking husband, Andrew.

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