My 17-month old reads my blog. The reason I know this is because immediately after I posted the previous entry, she decided to see if there was really a Humble Blogger in the house. She wanted to know if her Mama was a fake.

You know what happened already. I don’t need to tell you that she ditched her sleeping through the night routine for being wide awake from 1 – 4 a.m. and a few hours in between. I’m not godly between those hours; that’s why I sleep. She didn’t want food, a diaper change, or any of the usual baby ransoms. No, it’s worse: she wanted to play. It’s a good thing I’m in love.

It’s almost predictable. As soon as you push the Cruise Control motherhood button, it always happens: the flu hits, the milk spills, and your neighboring Prairie Muffin perfects her handmade whole wheat freshly ground bread. (The question, by the way, isn’t, “What’s wrong with me?” but “How’d you do that?!”)

The lesson, of course, is that calling on the name of the Lord is a daily thing. And, if you live in my house… so is spilling milk.

How can I repay the LORD
for all his goodness to me?
I will lift up the cup of salvation
and call on the name of the LORD.

~Psalm 116:12-13