The other day Emily and I stopped by a store I hadn’t visited in a long time. From the moment the automatic doors slid open, I noticed a very distinct aroma. Let’s see, how should I describe it? It’s probably a mix of new tires, livestock feed and various agricultural supplies.

I took a deep breath. “Ahhh … smells like my childhood in here.”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “It smells disgusting.”

Oh my dear teenager. She has no idea.

As someone who grew up on a farm, I’ve encountered a wide variety of odors – everything from pleasant to downright awful! But whether good or bad, they always trigger childhood memories for me.

Freshly plowed dirt reminds me of riding with Dad on a John Deere tractor. Dusty hay bales remind me of playing in the haymow with my brother. Lilacs remind me of walking barefoot to the mailbox on a warm summer day.

As my day continued, I thought about my own kids. I wondered what smells might evoke memories for them someday. Would the smell of fresh cut grass remind them of days we played at the park? Would the smell of old books remind them of our many trips to the library? Would the smell of chlorine take them back to afternoons at the pool? No matter what ends up triggering their memories, I hope they'll always remember how much they were loved.

That night before going to bed I stopped by Madison’s room to say goodnight. I sat down next to her and leaned in for a hug.

“Love you,” I said, squeezing her tight. She wrapped both arms around my neck and inhaled.

“You smell good,” she said.

I couldn't help but smile.

So how about you? What scents transport you back to your childhood? Do share!

This past week we've had some tension at our house. Seriously. I've heard way too many dramatic sighs. More than a few exasperated groans. Now I hate to point fingers, but I know who’s to blame.

Our piano teacher. 

Nah, I’m just kidding. (Well, sort of.)  

Don’t get me wrong. She is a lovely lady and a wonderful teacher. But she has no idea the strife she has caused. I can still see the grief-stricken look on Taylor's face when she told me the news.

“She wants me and Emily to play a duet.”   

I thought it was a great idea. I could already picture it. My two girls sitting side-by-side playing their hearts out as beautiful music filled our home. But instead of music, here’s what I heard echoing throughout the house:

“You’re not even trying!”

“Me? You’re the one that keeps making mistakes!” 

“No – if you’d just play it right ….”

Back and forth they went. It was a ridiculous argument. Couldn't they see that blaming each other was getting them nowhere? To be honest, they both needed work. Neither of them played it perfectly.

Curt looked at me from across the room. “They sound like a married couple.”

I couldn't argue with that. 

Like all couples, Curt and I have had some disputes. And it's always so easy to point out what the other has done wrong.  

Neither of us are doing this marriage thing perfectly. But we're supposed to be a team. When we have a disagreement, we need to ask ourselves a difficult question. What part am I playing in this problem? 

Because blaming each other just gets us nowhere.

It’s been a little noisy around here this week, but my girls have given me a good reminder. Next time an argument erupts in my home, I’ll try to think twice before blaming my husband. 

Or even the piano teacher. 

Hi everyone - 

Sometimes our dinner discussions sound something like this: 

"How was your day?"
"Fine."
"What did you do at school?"
"Nothing."

Well, this week I'm over at the Quad City Moms Blog writing about my mission to make our mealtimes more meaningful! 

I invite you to stop by and check out my list of favorite dinnertime conversation starters. My family has been having lots of fun with this. I'd love for you to give it a try.  

http://www.quadcitymomsblog.com/2014/03/17/table-talk-2/

And speaking of fun, it's always fun to give away Chicken Soup books. Last week I had a little contest on the blog and today I'm excited to announce that Barb Carr and Brenda have each won a copy of Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Dating Game. Congratulations! I will be contacting each of you soon.

Thanks for stopping by. Have a great week!

Sheri

I'm so excited! The snow is melting and the temperatures are rising. We've had a long winter, but we're finally seeing the early signs of spring. Of course it’ll probably turn cooler and snow tomorrow. But this 60 degree day gives me hope that spring is on its way.

By the way, how do you like the photos on my blog today? My good friend, Grace took them. (Thank you Grace!) I wrote a story about how Grace and I became friends. Click here if you'd like to read it. 

As for today, I’m opening the windows and doing some spring cleaning. I thought I'd start with my office. Want to help? I've got a couple extra Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Dating Game books I need to clear off my shelf. As a thank you for reading my blog, I’d like to pass one along to you.

All you need to do is leave me a comment for a chance to win. You can just say hi … or you can tell Grace how much you enjoyed her pictures! I’ll draw two names and announce the winners next week. 

The email subject line simply read, Got the call. I held my breath and clicked. Well girls, my nightmare just came true. I have breast cancer.

I slumped down in my chair and shook my head in disbelief.

How could this be? My mind flooded with all the irrational reasons this couldn’t be happening. She’s only 35. She’s the mother of three. She’s my friend.

I remember a time when I didn't understand the value of a good friend. As a new mom, I was happily consumed with motherhood. Sure I had friends, but they were more like acquaintances than true friends. That was fine with me. After all, once you’re a wife and mother, your priorities change. I had my husband and my mom. I didn't need more friends. But sometimes God gives us what we need -- even before we realize we need it.

When my first baby was a year old, I made the decision to quit my job and become a full-time mom. I loved being home with my daughter, but wished she could interact with other kids. I wanted her to learn how to share, make new friends, and have fun. I decided to start a moms’ group.

I was excited about the possibilities, but nervous about the unknown. What if no other moms wanted to join? Worse yet, what if the moms that joined weren’t a good fit with my personality? Soon I was convinced I’d either be the leader of a one-woman moms’ group, or I’d be spending playgroups with a room full of cigar-smoking, tobacco-spitting moms.

One by one, other moms in our small community joined the group. Each week we gathered our little ones for playgroups, park days, or trips to the zoo. We pushed our babies in swings and shared our joys and frustrations of the day. We chased busy toddlers and laughed at how drastically our lives had changed since we became moms.

Over time, our friendships extended beyond weekly meetings. We found comfort in knowing others who faced the same challenges, and shared advice for our most maddening mommy moments. (Like how to convince a stubborn two-year-old to sit on a potty.) We visited sprinkler parks in the summer, picked pumpkins in the fall, and acted surprised when Santa crashed our Christmas parties each winter.

Even my husband appreciated the group. I’m not sure he fully understood how a few hours of eating munchies and playing games transformed his tired, grumpy wife into a pleasant woman, but he knew it worked. One night of laughter with friends always gave me the extra boost I needed to tackle life’s troubles.

But kids grow up quickly and these days many of us are caught up in the typical busyness of life with tween-agers. Our schedules are packed with football games, piano lessons, softball practices, band concerts, and dance recitals. But we still carve out time to keep in touch.

Staying in touch looks different every time we get together. Recently, we hosted a “pink party” for our friend who was diagnosed with breast cancer. As lunch drew to a close, one of the moms spotted a picture of my kids.

“I can’t believe how much your girls have grown,” she sighed.

“I know.” I smiled, admiring my three little ladies. “When our group first began, Emily couldn’t even walk. Now she’s in junior high.”

I sat quietly for a while and observed the camaraderie around the kitchen table. Every mom in unity dressed in pink, sharing laughter and the occasional tear, sipping our pink lemonade and supporting our friend during the biggest fight of her life.

This is true friendship, I thought. When you’re struggling, there’s someone to strengthen you. And when you’re rejoicing, there’s someone to celebrate with you.

It’s easy to see how our kids have grown, but over the years, we moms have grown as well. We’ve grown closer. We’ve grown wiser. We’ve grown stronger.

Being part of a moms’ group taught my kids many great lessons in their early years of life. They learned how to share and how to make friends. They discovered that having a good friend is not only fun, but an important way to face life’s challenges.

When I think back to those morning playgroups and summer days at the park, I realize my daughter wasn’t the only one who needed a friend. My heart fills with gratitude because I learned those important lessons as well.