Megan Breedlove

This past week, Lindsey, our 11-year-old daughter, became the first child in our family and the first grandchild on either side to win a college scholarship. Her scholarship, presented at the fifth-grade awards ceremony, was for reading. Earning it involved taking tests over various books of her choice, then accruing points depending on how well

If someone gave you a million dollars, what would you do with it? I posed this question to several friends and family members, and their answers included things like “pay off all my bills” (actually, this one was the one most often mentioned), donate to worthy organizations, buy a new car, take a vacation and

Last Sunday, along with much of the rest of America, my husband and I watched Super Bowl LI. Timmy watched occasionally, not because he cares about football, but because he wanted to be where Daddy and I were. So while Phil and I enjoyed the game, Timmy’s favorite part was the Skittles commercial, where he

The other day, I said to Timmy, “I want you to get all your Play-Doh off the table.” He reluctantly but obediently walked toward the mess, so I left the room. I came back later to find his Play-Doh off the table, all right. It lay scattered on the floor next to where he had

In high school and college, I auditioned for and was accepted into various choirs. I have a good voice, though there are plenty of people whose voices are better than mine. But one area in which I excel is my ability to hear when a singer is on pitch. Which, of course, means that I

Some days, the most exciting part of my day is when the kids’ bedtime arrives. Such was the case the other day. I found Timmy playing games on his computer, and I told him media time was over. The following conversation ensued: Me: “It’s time to get your jammies on.” Timmy: “But I want to

A couple months ago, my family and I joined a new church. Because it is a fairly large church, I’m still learning many people’s names, especially the children’s. So when Timmy wanted to have a little girl named Taylor over for a play date recently, I had a hard time making that happen. Here’s how

I should have known, when Timmy was playing quietly in his room for too long, that something was amiss. I realized it when I entered his room and saw large, looping swirls all across his carpet—in yellow marker. “Timmy?” I sighed. “Did you draw on your floor with this yellow marker?” “Uh … uh …

The past few weeks have been stressful for me. The kids and I started back homeschooling after Christmas break. There were some pretty significant, ongoing issues relating to our oldest son and his disability that we had to struggle to deal with. A friend’s son attempted to commit suicide, and a few days later, he

I don’t know exactly how many nerves I have. But I do know when my kids are on my last one. Usually, when they get on my nerves, it’s because they are bickering, tattling on each other for things that don’t really matter, or leaving behind some mess that they should have picked up because

“Mommy, can I have a cookie?” Timmy asked. “No,” I said, “we’re going to eat dinner soon.” “But I want a cookie!” “Sorry. It’s almost time for dinner.” “But I like cookies.” “After dinner.” By this point, Timmy was getting distressed. “But how can I eat a cookie if you won’t let me?” he begged. The answer,

Ahhhhh, cake walks. The anticipation of maybe, just maybe, hearing your number called and getting to choose the cake of your dreams. I actually remember one particular cake walk from sometime when I was in elementary school. I won! I walked over to the table and chose the cake I had had my eye on

Boys are different from girls. Don’t worry; I’ve known this for a long time—at least in terms of physical differences. But never have I had the invisible differences between the genders demonstrated so clearly as this past weekend, when I took my son and two of his friends to Legoland for his birthday. The three boys

Several times a week, I come across links in my Facebook feed to articles that either 1) try to alarm you, or 2) try to stir up your emotions (whether positive or negative). I guess that’s good, in a way. If something alarming is going on out there, I want to know about it. And

You would think that of all the people depicted in the Bible, the moms would be the ones who could best understand our frustrations as mothers. That’s probably why there are so many books titled something like, “Moms of the Bible.” We’re supposed to read about moms and learn from them. Be inspired by them,