My karma ran over my dogma

[This post is rated PG-13--or at least PG-10! ]

Last Saturday arrived, cloudy and dreary in the morning but I thought I'd at least get the grass mowed before the rains came. The hubbie had some errands to run so he took our son with him and my daughter stayed home with me. We'd had a full week of me accusing her of not listening to me and her accusing me of being the worst mother ever so I was surprised when, rather than riding her bike or making chalk pictures in the driveway, she walked alongside me as I mowed.
(OK, I'll admit that initially I was irked. Usually mowing the lawn gives me a little distance.)

Then she ran ahead and picked a flower (dandelion) for me. I gave her a kiss and thanked her and she beamed! She ran inside to add it to a cup of water that held 2 "flowers" that she and her brother had picked the day before. She ran back out, walked alongside me again for a minute, then spotted more. She'd pick one, I'd give her a kiss and she'd go get another one. I had to stop mowing the grass many times and finally had to get a big fancy glass out of the cupboard to hold my yellow bouquet. Cutting the yard took two or three times longer than usual but it was worth it. We don't get much one-on-one time together and while I'm not sure this counts as "quality time" we certainly were having fun! (When I asked her if she was tired of walking back and forth across the line with me, she answered "I'm getting my exercise!")

She finally moved to the driveway with the sidewalk chalk and drew a portrait of me. Then she drew this self-portrait! .
Just in case you can't read those words in her thought bubble, let me zoom you in a little...


Can you read it now? YES! It says: "Mommy Rules!"

I won't tell you what she usually writes about me in the driveway...I'll just say this is quite the opposite!

By now the sun is shining brightly (yes, I'm still in the self-destructive mode of mowing without sunscreen) which means I'm HAPPY to be getting color, I'm getting something productive done, I'm spending time with my daughter and TODAY SHE LIKES ME! I even look up and say a little "thank you!" As I do, she says she's hungry and I ask for one more minute and then I'll go in and make lunch. She asks if I will please sit with her while she eats her lunch. (She's afraid I'll make her a sandwich, turn on the tv and go finish the lawn). But right then, the hubbie and son return from their errands with McDonald's Happy Meals in hand!

Sun shining...birds singing...and Happy Meals, too! Life does not get any better!

I help them carry the drinks inside and cheerfully tell my daughter, "This worked out great! Now you have lunch and you can sit with your Dad and brother instead of a dirty, stinky Mom!"
The look I receive back looks a little like this:

However, I know once she gets to her french fries, she'll be fine and I head back outside to mow the backyard. I start the mower and move several yards along the fence before I get to the garden with more dandelions, a few blooming poppies and a dead rabbit.

I stop the mower and just stand there. I know I have to take care of this but I can't move. I know my daughter is going to finish that Happy Meal and come bounding back out here and I can't let her see this. It takes me another minute but I finally head back to the house.

A rational, good mother would have picked up the shovel. I walk right past it, go into the kitchen and give my hubbie this look:

I relate what I've found and explain how I'd really like him to take care of it for me. (In my defense, I've scraped half of a mouse off our frozen porch that a cat left behind before my kids could realize it was not, in fact, a "funny looking leaf." I've also picked up a dead bird--I blame that on the same cat--and a squirrel that a driver kindly left in my front yard. So while you may be thinking that I've worked my way up from the tiniest animals, I thought it was time to take turns.) This was only days after I'd read this post on Joshilyn Jackson's blog and I was inspired by her husband's offer to come home from work to help her. I thought maybe my hubbie would be as willing.

His initial response was "just get a trash bag."

As I try to explain the amount of difficulty I had getting the little squirrel into one of those, my daughter has caught on to the fact that something is not right. Remember my cheerful little shadow from the beginning of this post? The girl that brought me flowers and thinks I "rule?" The first question out of adoring daughter's mouth is "did you run over something with the lawn mower and kill it?"

This is where the karma kicks in. Three years ago--the Saturday before Easter, I believe--I hit a rabbit with the car. The kids were in the car with me and they did not witness the event itself but heard me gasp. Not being a clever enough mom to lie quickly enough though, I told them the truth. (I did go back to see if we could save the bunny but it was a rabbit and I'd been driving a Suburban.)

Three years later, I'm still honest. I respond that I did not run over anything. "Can I come in the back yard with you now and pick the yellow flowers out there?" she asks.

"Not yet."

I go out to take care of the rabbit. While my hubbie's solution could work, I know I can't hold the trash bag open with one hand and get the job done with the other. I think I can bury it in the garden instead. I come back and tell him. He rolls his eyes and I bat mine. He caves and goes out to take care of it.

Yay!

Well, a cheer that he'll take care of this, anyway. My daughter wants to know what he's doing.

"Just helping Mommy. He'll be right back."

She isn't stupid. "I'll just look out the window," she says.

"No, come over and talk to me instead."

"Mom, just tell me what is going on." I sigh. Right or wrong, I'm stuck now and decide to level with her. I utter the words that will haunt me later: "You are old enough to know the truth."

I tell her I found a dead rabbit in the garden and Daddy will clean it up. "Did you hit it with the lawn mower?" she wants to know again. I repeat that I found it and I think the bunny lost a battle with a cat. "Whose cat?" Whoops. I tell her I don't know, that Daddy is taking care of it and everything will be just fine. I ask her not to tell her brother who has been watching tv all this time and is blissfully unaware of the whole situation. "Why?"

"He isn't as old as you. Let's just not tell him."

"OK. Can I go pick those flowers yet?"

Whew! She's OK! I start to say no but her Dad walks in, saying the deed is done. So I go back out to mow and she picks another bouquet of dandelions.

A little later, the yard is done and I'm upstairs getting ready to take a shower. So of course, this is the time my daughter wants to have a discussion.

"Mom, can I ask you a question?"

"If it's quick. I just want to jump in the shower. Can it wait five minutes?"

"I guess so. I just wanted to tell you that I don't believe in the Tooth Fairy anymore."

For the second time in the same afternoon, time (and I) stand still for a second while her words circle around my head for a moment.

"Honey, why would you say that?"

"Well, a boy in my class saw his mom and dad putting money under his pillow when he lost a tooth, so I'm guessing that's what you and Daddy do, too." Her eyes are welling up and she's trying not to cry.

I wasn't expecting this and before I know it, I hear the words "I haven't put money under your pillow" jump right out of my mouth. I try to think how I can retract that and give a more pseudo-lie rather than a real one. What I say is, "let Mommy take this shower and we'll sit down and talk about it, OK?"

She nods and leaves. I take an extra-long shower, pondering exactly what I should tell her. Is she old enough to learn the truth? Should I come clean on the day before the Easter Bunny arrives?

Eventually I arrive downstairs to find her playing with her dolls. I quietly ask the hubbie his opinion. I say maybe I could tell her that sometimes parents help the Tooth Fairy. He nods vigorously. "Yes! Tell her that!"

I wonder how to bring it back up but she's playing nicely. So I wait for her to ask. She doesn't. She's fine, she's cheerful and hours later, rather than worrying about whether tooth fairies exist, she is asking to put carrots out for the Easter Bunny.

For a nanosecond, I wonder why she doubted the existence of one and not the other. Then I realize that I specifically told her that she was old enough for me to tell her the truth. So when she popped her question, she believed the first response that came out of my mouth.

That's going to come back to bite me somewhere else.

Whew!

You know that feeling of relief when you've narrowly avoided an accident?

There was no other car swerving toward ours. It is difficult however, to drive safely while you want to clench your eyes shut and put your fingers in your ears (singing "la la la"). I did not exhibit such behaviour outwardly but only so that we could avoid a real, physical accident.

The conversation began with a simple question on the way home from school.

My 7-year-old: "Mommy? Did you know that there is a bad word in the word: peacock?"

Me (inside my head): please don't go there, la..la..la
Me (out loud): "Really?"

7yr-old:"Yes! There is!" (She is smiling at her brother) "Do you know what it is?"

Me: "Ummmm....no."

7yr-old: "It's PEE!!" Bwaahaahaa!!! (Both children are delighted!)

Though I've complained in the past, some days I'm quite thankful for potty-humor!

I'm still here...

...but FINALLY had a new idea as to how to pull the book together.

I'll let you know how it goes.

HAPPY EASTER!

Creative waste of time

I swore I'd get some writing done without blogging.
Now I'm blogging and not even really writing.
I found this at Rene's blog (she found it at Tori's) and so on...


Go to Wiki and list three "fun" things, two birthdays and one death that happened on your birthday:

(My birthday isn't one of those that passes quietly in this nation. You all may have heard or seen this date in a history book at some point. While I share a birthday with Ron Kovic, our birthday is the title of his memoir and movie so I thought I could put others on my list below.)

July 4
1803 - The Louisiana Purchase is announced to the American people.
1827 - Slavery is abolished in New York State.
1950 - First broadcast by Radio Free Europe.

I've listed two birthdates but three names. As Ann and Pauline are twins, it is still the same day
1804 - Nathaniel Hawthorne, American writer (d. 1864)
1918 - Ann Landers, American advice columnist (d. 2002)
1918 - Pauline Phillips (Abigail Van Buren), American advice columnist and twin sister to Ann Landers

The rules say list one death but, as above, I've listed two people who died on the same day.
1826 - John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, two of the Founding Fathers of the United States of America, died. (On the fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Independence)

Words to live by

As I was walking N into school the other day, we passed a father and daughter. The father was walking his younger daughter over to the preschool and the little girl was waving furiously at her older sister who was walking into the elementary school.

"BYE, Sissy!! Have a good day! Don't kick your friends in the foot or in the butt!"

Good advice for us all.

Saturday morning fun

"What is going on here?"

"What, Mommy?"

"Oh, nothing honey. I wasn't talking to you."

The boy is sick but he is not stupid. His sister is asleep and his father isn't home. It's just us.

"Then who were you talking to?"

"The toaster."*

There is silence for a moment and then in a slightly softer voice: "Mommy? Did you know that when you talk to the toaster, I can hear you?"

(At least I know the current virus hasn't affected his hearing!)

______________________________________________
*I did not realize the little lever on the side of the toaster had been moved so my toast came out rather dark. While I often carry on conversations with myself througout the day, I do not normally address one appliance in particular.

I'm chillin'

The girl is old enough that she no longer asks me to sleep in her bed with her, unless she is sick.
With the stuffy nose + time change combo on Sunday, she asked. I put her off for a while but after the boys were both snoring, I complied. I did not stay all night. I did not stay for a full half hour.

Those tiny "I can't breathe right" germs waste no time whatsoever!

It's not so bad. I can breathe now and with another cup of hot coffee and a Motrin, the chills will go away, too.

When I dropped the boy off at preschool today, Room #1 (the room where half of his class is dropped off to wait until 8am) has a big sign on it letting parents know that "the room has been exposed to Rotovirus." Thank goodness it was just the room.

Buzz, buzz...Blogging for Books is Live!

Yes, indeed--it's that time again! Go ahead...take one of those ideas that's been buzzing around your head and submit it this month! I'll post mine soon.

Details are here.

Is there no place like home?

I just finished reading Four Souls and the paperback offers a “P.S.” section including a biography and interview with the author. In those comments, Louise Erdrich mentioned that she usually writes about the people and land where she grew up. She states that she did not move away until she was 18 and says these are the people she knows.

I was 18 when I left home for college. For the first few years, whenever I’d return, I’d see the oak trees, the Spanish moss and knew I had to write a historical book about this area. I considered the landscape, the setting but did not think about using the people that are there.

Lately, I’ve been more enamored with setting stories in other places. Places that were not my hometown seemed a little more exotic or exciting but maybe I just see the possibilities of where I am at the moment. This morning, watching the sunrise, I could not believe I hadn’t put a character in Kansas yet.

I may have mentioned that I have a tendency to procrastinate—so while it’s very tempting to pull out the Civil War era-novel that I worked on, then ignored, then worked on, then ignored… I need to get the current one finished. However, maybe it’s time to just get a good draft of this one printed and set it aside and work on the other I’d set “back home” in Florida.

So many settings, so many stories…yet so many errands, laundry and dishes are waiting at the same time!

Rene has posted about this idea before (as have others) so some of you have answered the question already but for my writing friends: when you sit down to write, is there a certain place that has to be home to your characters? Or do your settings change with each story?

Life Lessons #47: Children will repeat every single thing you say

Found these life lessons on TLC.com this morning. (Yes, I know I gave up TV but watching ads on the computer isn't really the same, right? I know--the ads were the main reason I gave up tv to begin with!)

For those of you who are free to watch what you like, check it out in your free time!

If you like pina coladas...

This morning while writing, I mean researching, I mean bloghopping--I found the story about the Dad on Strike over at bloggingbaby. Intrigued, (and inclined to side with him) I hopped over to his website. While exploring, I found something a little more bizarre and yet familiar, too.

Jane, stop this crazy thing!

While I did not get to fly to highschool with my very own jetpack like Elroy, maybe I will have a chance to have Rosie clean the kitchen!

There is no place like home

I found this over at the Suburban Misfit's blog. As the hubbie and I are discussing where we may want to live after he gets out of the Army, I thought I'd see where this quiz took me!

Where would you most like to live? Go find out!

Older and wiser

I was kind. Remember that.

When I turned 30, my sisters and brother called me for my birthday but the ones furthest from my age had some rather insensitive comments. (Ah, the foolishness of the young!)

Last week, one of you turned 30. My kids and I sang and I yelled, Aunt J is 23! I was met with silence on the other end. I think you thought my senility was complete. Especially when you finally, quietly asked: "you don't really think I'm 23, do you?"

While I do live in my own world and prefer to believe that my siblings aren't getting older, I'm not that far gone yet. Though I would like to continue to tell the world that I am 23, it's hard as all of my siblings are past that age now.

Once you realized that I am quite aware of how old you really are-- you mentioned that I was much nicer to you than you were to me.

Exactly. Remember that. Though years ago, I warned you with comments such as "just wait" and "your time is coming," I did not follow through when the time arrived. (I reserve the right to rub it in later however, if warranted.)

And now--a few words of wisdom I thought I'd share:
Age is something that doesn't matter, unless you are a cheese. ~ Billie Burke

Spring Break Sleepover---who is going to SLEEP?

Mrs. C! Mrs. C! Did you know that if you get sleepy, you can splash cold water on your face and it'll wake you right up?

Yes but who told you?

And the giggles begin...

Field Trip

I have been promising to take my son to a planetarium and as it's Spring Break--and the snow was melting to a muddy slush yesterday--I decided it was time for a family field trip!

We headed for the Cosmosphere--a 2+ hour drive from home. I said we'd leave "early" so the fact that we backed out of the driveway minutes before 11:00 is pretty good for me! (It was still "a.m." anyway!)

My daughter insisted it was unfair that I made her go. She pouted as she entered the IMAX theater to see Magnificent Desolation: Walking on the Moon. Once the movie started, I spent most of it reminding her to whisper or be quiet! The girl who had no interest in space or the space center now would like to walk on the moon. She asked if a woman had ever walked on the moon. When I answered "no," she said "I'm going to be the first one!" (As soon as we left the theater though, she amended this plan. "I want you to come with me, Mom! You could be the first woman on the moon!" )

My son has known for at least the last two years that he wanted to be an astronaut and has had long-standing plans of walking on the moon. He has asked me several times if I'd like to come with him but it has nothing to do with history or gender, of course---he just doesn't want to go alone! (Can't say I blame him!) He was a little afraid of the movie but watched it and enjoyed the planetarium show a little later.

As we left, they were both sorely disappointed that it was still such a cloudy night because they wanted to try to spot and name constellations in the sky. We did not make it home until 7:30pm but it was certainly a day well spent.

Still tweaking...

I have not forgotten about the "short" entry. I have not refrained from sharing it because it's too good and I think you will steal it. I have not held back because I think it is horrible. It is somewhere in the middle and I think--I hope--I can do better than that.

I know, first I complained because the assignment was for no more than 75 words and I had 98.

Then I was thrilled when I had only 30!

Later, I thought--if I CAN submit 75--WHY would I send only 30?

(I am rolling my eyes here, too!)

I have another version that is currently 66 words. That is not good enough simply because I don't like the number 66.

It's a good thing the deadline is April 10. Or perhaps not. I'll let you know.

Beginnings

Once upon a time, there lived a writer who loved to procrastinate. No--NO--you have not heard this story already.

This writer--we will just call her The Procastinator--subscribed to Writer's Digest. In one issue, she read an article about how many writers have started blogs and have not only been noticed by book publishers but offered contracts for books. Sometimes these bloggers had manuscripts written and sometimes publishers wanted something with the same substance--and following--they saw in the author's blogs.

The Procrastinator thought about blogging but realized that the subject of her current WIP would not be enthralling blogging material. She waited.

A few weeks later, she learned that one of her good friends had a blog! She read it and was impressed. Again, she considered starting her own but was afraid someone might compare her writing to the friend's--we'll just call him A Better Writer--and waited some more.

Then, one day, The Procrastinator had something to say. It would not fit in The Book she was writing and she had to write it somewhere. So she started her own blog and started posting random thoughts for whomever might stop by her site.

The Procrastinator began exploring the blogosphere, finding more and more entertaining blogs out there to visit and even began leaving comments! Some blogs had clever titles, some had specific themes but most of them gave a glimpse of that blogger's daily life, whatever that might entail.

Recently, a friend that went to highschool with The Procrastinator (we'll call her Very Kind) foundTP's blog. Very Kind said nice, pretty things about the blog. As a mother herself, VK mentioned that she could relate to some of TP's posts about life with kids and said she wished there were columns like this in the newspaper. TP thought she could at least give her a list of other blogs to visit--though she realized that VK might not be so complimentary about TP's after reading some of the great ones out there! (As The Procrastinator began the list, tentatively calling it "Mommy blogs" she did an internet search and found this. TP agrees with this author and the list now has no title!)

In any case, TP is making a list and thereby inviting VK to explore more of the blogosphere, too!

Lions and lambs

I planned! We've had temps in the 60s and 70s! I ran outside, did a little yardwork, tried to get a little color on my pale white legs--getting ready to spend time outdoors with the kids during Spring Break!

Yes, yes--I know--March comes in like a lion and leaves like a lamb but this lion took his time! Tomorrow is the first official day of N's Spring Break. It is also the first day that any real SNOW has been forecast in quite a while. This is not just a possibility of rain/snow mix, people: they are saying 6-10 INCHES are expected with snow continuing on and off until Thursday.

I guess life does balance out eventually. I don't think we got any snow during her Christmas/winter break.

I am going back to playing it by ear and just seeing what we feel like doing when tomorrow arrives. Maybe if I plan to just hang out and see how much snow we get--the sun will show up after all; if not, we've got snow pants and sleds.

Starting the weekend off right!

As we head into the weekend -- and Spring Break for the kids -- I was online looking for ideas to keep everyone occupied for the next week.

I took a break to do a little bloghopping and found this over on Angela's blog! WooHoo!

Thanks again, Angela!

Blogging for Books--Little soldiers on the move

When I learned that this month's Blogging for Books topic was The Military, I thought I would write something about the sacrifices our soldiers make or share something about my experiences as a military spouse. When I sat down and began typing, something entirely different emerged.

I grew up in a small town near three Navy bases. New kids arrived in my classes every year and friends left every year as well. It was common for students to enroll at all times during the year. Those of us who were not military brats had already heard in kindergarten that we should welcome new friends as they were in a new city, new school, etc. We were good students and learned our lesson well. By the time we were in second grade, someone actually got hurt because we were all scrambling to sit next to the new girl in class!

A lesson not taught by the teachers but learned equally as well was how hard it was to be friends with kids in military families. We played tag and rode bikes together but learned not to share too many secrets or be best friends with people who might not be there a few months or a year later. Besides, they were used to moving often, meeting new people...they probably didn't want to make a best friend either.

At that time in our lives, we were learning a little geography and cursive writing. We got to be pen pals with kids in classrooms far away. It was exciting! However, making the leap to keeping in touch with school friends who moved to Virginia or Japan—pen pals that I already knew—did not usually last very long.

I grew up and married an Army officer. My daughter completed kindergarten before we had to move to a new town and new school. Her best friend from that year still sends her letters at least once a month and includes Halloween treats, Christmas cards and valentines. My daughter says “I will have to write her back” but rarely completes the task without a reminder from me. While I am glad that my daughter has adjusted to her new home and school and made new friends, I remember being the friend that was left behind, wondering why the letters stopped coming.

Though we live near a large Army installation, my daughter attends a private, Catholic school. Only a few of the other students are from military families. My daughter has a few good friends and one “best friend.” The BF likes to play with my daughter as often as she can, too. They get along great. However, I have tried to encourage my daughter to invite different friends over once in a while (hoping her friend will do the same).

We may move next summer. My daughter has really come out of her shell this year and is outgoing at school. That is a benefit of being a military brat. You have to learn to make new friends. I know she will be fine if we move to another city and another school. She will make new friends again.

I do worry for her best friend sometimes; the girl who will be left behind.

Blogging 4 Books Trial

I am going to give it a try.

I say this every month.

This month, the topic for Blogging for Books is The Military.

I grew up in a town surrounded by THREE Navy bases, dated the hubbie while he was in ROTC and got to learn all sorts of Anacronyms and then, when he became an Active Duty member of the military, I married him--which means I said it was OK to let other people call me a DEPENDENT.
So I'm sure I can find something to say. If not now, when?

Please join me!

He is lucky but not charmed

C has been asking for the "Cocoa Puffs" he sees on TV. You've seen the commercials--processed chocolate sugary cereal is part of a balanced breakfast. (As long as the child has milk, juice, toast, maybe some eggs and a few of those chocolate puffs for dessert, that is!)

So he's been asking. We see it in the store. It's been a good day and he's behaved well so I'm considering giving in. I pick up the box. Then we see the other box...Chocolate Lucky Charms!

Yes, I am an idiot who obviously has no concern for her children's health. (This is obvious as my kids are already well familiar with regular Lucky Charms and now we're sampling chocolate Lucky Charms. The original cereal just didn't pack an entire week's worth of sugar into each bowl so we've got to try harder).

I hand him the box and he's excited! Of course, his interest is more in a particular marshmallow than the flavor of the surrounding cereal. He asks me to read the descriptions of each marshmallow on the side of the box as we stroll the supermarket aisle. When I read that the moon was "invisibility," that's all he needs. For the next twenty minutes, he repeats, "I've always wanted to be invisible."

He's snacking now and is quite disappointed that he can still see himself. I tried pretending I could not see him--looked right through him--but he looked down, saw his shirt and was not going to play along. These don't work!

Well, not yet anyway. I'm sure that in a few minutes, when the sugar is coursing through his system, he will be able to pick up enough speed to be just a blur or possibly move fast enough that I won't be able to see him!

Patriotism

I am not impressed with George W. Bush and I am afraid of our government.
However I love my country and feel lucky to live in a nation where I can say all of the above.

I thank all of the men and women who have fought to preserve our freedoms. This artist has the right idea.

They make it look so easy!

The good news is that I can type over 75 words a minute (especially after a few cups of Java)! The frustrating news is that in a very short amount of time, I already have far too many words for a magazine "assignment"/contest submission!

Writer's Digest offers an assignment every month and the winner's entry is published in the magazine a few months later. I don't have delusions of winning but it's good practice, right?

My problem is the word count requirement. The entry has to be 75 words or fewer! I've already deleted parts and I've gotten it down to 98 words but that's not going to cut it!

The deadline is April 10 so I have time to keep cutting.

The link above is for last month's assignment. If you want to try this with me, let me know! I can email "Assignment #195" to you or post it here!

***********************************
Update--there IS a reason to exercise regularly! (OK, I know the reasons but I'm always looking for motivation!)
Sitting here, staring at the screen did not help me delete another word. However, after about 10 minutes on the treadmill, I thought of a way to write the same idea in about 30 words!!! I don't know if it was endorphins or the 80s music but I'll take it! (Now if I could just make myself get on that thing every day, who knows what I could come up with?) ;)

Step on a crack, break your mother's back...

Her interest in Brownies has been waning and even when she wants to go, she rarely wants to wear her vest. Consequently, I have not felt too guilty about falling behind on sewing all of her patches on to it. However, I promised I'd have them all on in time for her to march in the St. Patrick's Day Parade. It's tomorrow. Yes, I only have one and half left to go. I love my daughter but sewing is not exactly something that I enjoy. It makes me want another glass of wine but then threading the needle gets trickier.

She just received another patch last Saturday so she wanted that one on first. She watched as I sewed, talking about the week as I continually pricked my finger, trying not to bleed directly onto the vest. (Thank goodness it's already brown (aka the color of dried blood). The person who designed the uniforms for the girls just beginning Girl Scouts was kind enough to realize that plenty of moms were beginning, too!)

Remember the sash that R was wearing at piano lessons on Thursday?

Ouch. Yes.

Was that hers or her mom's?

It was her mom's old uniform. Ouch. She wore it Thursday because she was doing a report on Juliette Low for school.

Who?

(Oh my, we do have work to catch up on, don't we?!) I explain who she was but N is quick to get back to talking about the uniform.

Mom? Do you remember how many patches that sash had?

Quite a few! OW!!! I didn't count but her mother must have been a busy Girl Scout! Oowwww!

Do you think if I stay in Brownies and do some extra stuff, I could earn that many patches?

Sure, Sweetheart. You can--OW--do anything you put your mind to!

I'm gonna look at my Try-It book now and see what else I can do!

That's the spirit! Ouch! Why don't you do that?

Wait....WHAT!?!?!?!

It happens

C has finished dinner and is sitting on the couch. N is finishing dessert (2nd helping of that, too) so I'm not sitting at the table with her anymore but getting the bath ready for C. I come back in through the living room, complaining about having to step over the lightsabers and telling them to be more careful about picking up food when it's dropped as I have found something all the way in the middle of the livingroom.

What is it, they both want to know.

I don't know but it shouldn't be out here. We've got to clean up a little better around here!

It looks like poop!

I roll my eyes. Please don't say that, especially while you're eating!

Hey, C! Mommy picked up poop! My eyes stop rolling and start glaring. N looks down. Sorry. She's trying not to laugh. But then, what is it?

In the meantime, C is rolling on the couch. Mommy picked up poop! Bwahaahaa!

I'm on my way to the trash but N still wants to know. They've had cookie-dough ice cream, cookies yesterday, we were outside earlier so it could be mud...it could be anything.

I sniff.

Oh.

Brilliant

I read somewhere (another blog?, book?, article?) that a mom admitted that her brain cells were GONE. She stated simply that during childbirth, each of her children grabbed a handful of her brain on their way out. While I only have two children, it's obvious that they took their share.

We went to the playground today and N tried a new trick--flipping her body over a bar.
C and I were very proud.

I am 35 and have a bachelor's degree in English.
I said, "Cool!"

My son is 5 and is not yet in kindergarten.
He said, "That is a brilliant idea!"

In the name of research

I've struggled with nailing down an exact year for my WIP to begin. I've played with a few different time frames where the characters could still do what they wanted to do but currently, it's beginning somewhere around 1915-1920.

Along with writing, some of my other interests are history and procrastination so research fits in quite nicely! ;)

Thinking about the time frame and my female main character yesterday, it occured to me that I could work in something about the 19th amendment (in which women in the U.S. finally gained the right to vote). With that in mind, I was off to the library! To my dismay as a reader, there were not many titles available on the subject but that's probably good for the progress of the book! During my search, I did find a small gem. (Size doesn't matter!) It's only 55 pages and much of those are photographs but it discusses the American Women's League and the Women's Republic--both of which I had never heard of. Even more fun, it shows photos of the "chapter houses" and right there, on page 29 is a photo of a building that I pass every weekday on the way to and from school! I had seen the embossed "Women's Club" on the facade of the building (which is now an attorney's office) but had no idea what the history was behind it.

I love stuff like this! I am only going to read one more page and then go back to writing!

What? Stalling? ME?!?!

Yeah, I know...

Streakin' Saturday!

My son asked me to play legos with him and I said I would as soon as he took a "potty break." He followed directions but now I'll have to catch him to play. He is stark naked, running a loop from the living room, past the front door, through the dining room and kitchen chanting "U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.!"

Maybe we will see him running at the Olympics one day but this is not the way I'd imagined!

Ironic

Wednesday, before we recieved a big, black cross of ashes on our foreheads that we were to leave on for the rest of the day---we heard the gospel reading (Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18) about how we should pray quietly at home rather than loudly out in public, give alms to the poor quietly rather than announcing our donations and other suggestions on how to keep our relationship with our God between Him and us, rather than making a show for the rest of the world.

Also on Wednesday (though I was reading Tuesday's newspaper) I read an article by Donald Rumsfeld where he made the case that America needs to update it's media and public relations methods for the 21st century. He lamented the fact that even very poor neighborhoods in countries such as Tunisia had satellite dishes on nearly every balcony or rooftop and that the programming they received was largely anti-Western, making it simple for terrorists to use these media to promote their own agendas. The article was published here on page A7 of our small, local paper.
(Maybe this was announced on every network channel--I'm giving up tv for Lent--but then this should have been a news story before Wednesday...)

I decide to give up television again for Lent. The hubbie has been wanting a TiVo and called Wednesday to tell me about cable's DVR. So on the first day of Lent, I call for more info, upgrade our package to include digital television (now we get many more channels) and pick up the DVR system so we can record what we miss.

The hubbie is getting calls from recruiters as he's considering getting out of the Army next year. There are opportunities across the continent so in asking for help in narrowing his search, he asked where I would like to live. I said near the ocean. He said there's more than one. I said I'm not that picky. Either will do. Not being a coastal or southern states fan, he is more interested in looking in the midwest. I was encouraged about one that is at least on the Mississippi river but I remind him how great it would be to live by the water. Yesterday he did send me this.
(I know--this isn't really ironic. It IS water. He's trying)

[Disclaimer: the following is a petulant complaint and in the hubbie's defense, the irritating comment was uttered during an argument and we both later apologized. I'm still including it in my list of ironic events this week though.]

I do not complain too much when the hubbie is gone every other weekend and a few weeks for his MBA classes and have decided to have an open mind regarding some mid-western cities where he is job-seeking for next year to find the perfect reasons why we should live there. We are all traveling to ND for his graduation in May and as it is on a Sunday, N will miss school on the following Monday. He'd like to visit a potential job/city the day after graduation but I hesistated, worrying that N would miss two days out of the last week of school. This prompted his complaint that he gets no support.

Tuesday's menu

What's on your menu for today? I really do not spend all of my time pondering what I'm going to eat! (I take a break to find out what some of you are eating!) ;)

Last month, I asked if anyone had any traditional meals for New Year's Day and I've discussed other family and religious traditions here, too.

I was hoping for a piece of king cake today but I settled for a piece of my son's Darth Vader birthday cake instead. (It did not even come close!) Before I got to the cake, my mother called and wished me a "Happy Paczki (sounds like "punt-key") day" and apologized for not sending me a jelly-filled doughnut. I had completely forgotten about that tradition this year. I've mentioned before that my mother is half-Ukrainian but she is also half-Polish and this is a Polish tradition on the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday. (Actually, my online searches have taught me that the Ukrainians have a similar treat but call it pampushky.)
(While I'm presenting my report, it looks like the Polish tradition is actually to eat these on Thursday but the Polish community in Michigan, (where my mother was born) influenced by the French tradition of Fat Tuesday, moved it to Tuesday instead so I guess it is an American tradition now!) ;)

I returned with an apology for not sending her a king-cake but they're hard to come by in Kansas! The king cake is not a childhood tradition anyway, just one I acquired when living in New Orleans.

This made me wonder what others are eating after searching online, I've learned that today is also Pancake Day in a few other countries. It seems the origins behind most of these sweet, sugary breakfasts is a combination of indulging on the last day before Lent begins (where many give up sweets, desserts, etc.) and a bit of practicality--Wikipedia tells me that Pancake Day began as a way to use up eggs and milk before Lent began as they were to be avoided during that time.

Now I'm hungry and I've got to get to the store. (That's a dangerous combination!)
Maybe one year I will meet you at IHOP for National Pancake Day.

Carnival time!

And then there are parties that go on for weeks! One in particular does not end until midnight on Tuesday!

I used to say that New Orleans could find any excuse for a party and a parade but of course, nothing compares to Mardi Gras! Katrina left her mark but even that disaster couldn't keep New Orleanians from celebrating Carnival!

I'm still praying for New Orleans--especially this week. I don't know if they have the resources (hospitals, police, etc.) to keep up with Mardi Gras quite yet but I'm encouraged by their enthusiasm.

So for all my friends from New Orleans: Laissez les bon temps rouler!!! Have a piece of king cake* for me! In the spirit of the season, I've downloaded some carnival tunes and will subject the children to them after school. I would love to share some of these songs with you all but am not sophisticated enough to know how to insert audio into my blog. If one of my readers is techno-savvy enough to give me directions, I'll upload them! In the meantime, I'll just keep singing along to myself...I went on down to the Audubon Zoo and they all aksed for you...


*Looks like Haydel's isn't completely back up and running yet but I'm sure somebody is making king cakes!

It's still party time

My son invited a few friends over on Sunday for his birthday party.
We had a Darth Vader cake, made Darth Vader masks and had a grand time. After the boys left however, my son observed that it hadn’t really been a Star Wars party—just a Darth Vader party. We were on the dark side the whole time!

If I had really thought about it, I could have come up with better music than just the movie soundtrack...

The celebrations continue

I propose a toast to the happy couple -- HAPPY ANNIVERSARY to my Mom and Dad!

Of course, every kid thinks/hopes/wishes that their parents will stay married forever. Now, as an old married woman myself, I'm in awe of anyone who can even come close.

Thirty-eight years is not forever but it seems like it's close! (I'm sure some days feel closer than others...)

Congratulations, Mom and Dad! (It'll be belated by the time you read this as I'm posting it when you've only got 1.5 hours left of February 24 but it's heartfelt all the same).



****Late Night Revision****
SORRY!!! That was a bit cynical. I am sure that it feels like not a day has passed since the big day in Miami! Truly, congrats! Somewhere in there, you managed to raise five kids and you help us with the eleven grandchildren! Not a bad start at all. Of course, this is just the beginning...

I'm older but he's wiser

My baby turned FIVE today! I guess I'm going to have to stop using that word, baby.

He tells me often that he does not want to grow up. Whether it's a remaining fascination with Peter Pan or the fact that I'm not always the most organized, together example of what a grown-up should be, I'm not sure. I am certain my comments today did not help.

In response to a rather obvious question, my son's response was:

No, I don't feel any different today. I'm just a different number, not a different kid.

Eleven people on a rope

I'm cheating today and posting an email that I received from my sister.

I was requested to forward it to "an intelligent woman, so that she has something to smile about today." I know I have a few readers who fit that description!

11 PEOPLE ON A ROPE

Eleven people were hanging on a rope under a helicopter, ten men and one woman. The rope was not strong enough to carry them all, so they decided that one had to leave, because otherwise they were all going to fall.

They weren't able to name that person, until the woman gave a very touching speech. She said that she would voluntarily let go of the rope, because, as a woman, she was used to giving up everything for her husband and kids, or for men in general, and was used to always making sacrifices with little in return.

As soon as she finished her speech, all the men started clapping their hands.......

I thank God for the dancing goats

I wonder if anyone has considered erecting a statue to the legendary Kaldi. No? Juan Valdez, perhaps? Whoever actually discovered the merits of the coffee bean needs some sort of recognition.

I had resolved to make some real progress on the WIP this weekend and get a draft done! I have several chapters and many more parts and pieces that I have to tie together. Putting it all together means that I have to get organized.

Unlike other members of my family who are currently organizing the spice cabinet, I am not an organized person. I have a few talents but doing things in logical, methodical manner is not something I do well.

So it is not that surprising that when I sat down to my computer, I played on the internet for a few minutes. I was looking for a movie that I want to see but that does not appear to be playing at our theater. Looking for that led me to some other sites on the same subject, which led me to some historical sites (I love history!) which led me to a new idea for a book!

Great!

No, not great. My past writing behavior has entailed coming up with a great idea, writing two chapters that lead me to a better idea at which time I put those chapters away and start on the next book. Lately, I’ve been so proud that I’ve been able to stay focused on one story for a long time now. Until today. I was mad. I wanted to start a new story. I wanted to research this one—it’s so much more interesting!

So I took a shower. (I do that occasionally). Aaahhh! The swirling, all-inspiring steam!! (Actually, I'm sure the inspiration came from all the caffeine in the pot of coffee I’ve just finished) but however the good Lord let the inspiration strike---I saw a way to work this story into the one I'm already writing!

Now to write it all down. After I get another cup of coffee. Sure, it's another momentary delay but who knows what brainstorm the next cup will inspire? Besides, with enough caffeine, I figure I can type about a thousand words a minute so I'll make up the time.

Every day miracles

My daughter experienced a miracle. At least she thinks she did.
A week ago, her brother was sick and quite miserable. She did not see how pathetic he looked, she saw the attention (and medicine) he got.

I wish I was sick too.

Do you want to sound like your brother?

No but I want grape Motrin.

You have a reading to read at Mass. If you lose your voice, someone else will have to read it.

That night, she prayed, Please, please don't let me get sick! Let me stay healthy and be able to read on Friday! The next morning, she woke feeling fine. Beaming, she announced, It's a miracle!

I am thrilled that she made the connection and believes that her prayer was answered.

Was it a miracle? Perhaps not but I am not going to dampen her seven-year-old spirit!

She is home sick today so she got her wish, too. She was able to read last Friday and this week --she got the grape Motrin!

Happy V-day and GoodNyte

As my mother says, what's the best way to get rid of a cold? Pass it on to someone else!

Well, my son is recovering as he's passed this thing on to me. This is much more than your average cold. So, I've taken to hitting the bottle! (The bottle of Nyquil, that is! It does the trick but does not enable me to stay up and blog in the evenings!)

I will catch up on my bloghopping soon. Have a Happy Valentine's Day!

Childhood Innocence

How old were you when you learned that some of the most magical beliefs of childhood were really fabrications, perpetuated by the very people who told you that it was wrong to lie?

(According to my mother, some of my nieces have asked for my blog address so just in case I have some 7-year-old readers out there, I'm going to keep this a little vague. I'm pretty sure that using words like perpetuated ought to slow them down but you never know.) I'm also fairly certain that any of my nieces or nephews actually reading my blog is another one of my mother's exaggerations but again, you never know.

My son lost his first tooth this afternoon and is now blissfully sleeping. He went to sleep well, confident that he had to be asleep before the tooth fairy would come to pay him for his tiny, beautiful tooth. His sister helped him to write a letter to put under his pillow too, asking the good fairy to leave his tooth for another week so he can show his Dad and the kids at school.

Magical times.

On the same magical day however, I had to remind/explain to my daughter that some people "out there" are sneaky.

I let her play on the internet on her own sub-account. (Which means I have set up every parental control possible as she too, is only 7.) I heard her tell her brother about some "superhero" game online and stood on the other side of the wall, listening. (I'm a bit sneaky, myself.) It was a quiz for kids on internet safety. I heard her asking her brother questions like "If someone online asks you to meet them, should you?" and "If you see pictures on the computer that you know your parents would not like, should you tell them?" I could not see the options she was given but it was great to hear "Yay! We got it right!" (Not so great to hear "whoops!" but it was only once.)

After that game, I took her brother upstairs for his bath and left her to her Hello Kitty search. Moments later, she kept yelling "MOMMY!!! COME HERE!!!" I was sure it was some new coloring page or maybe there was a new Hello Kitty movie out so while I planned to check it out, I wasn't in a rush to leave my son in the tub for the computer emergency. When I did arrive, she wanted me to know that SHE had won a NEW LAPTOP COMPUTER! The blinking ad at the top of the screen had told her so, and now she just had to fill in a few fields...

So, I had to explain that there are people who design these things to trick people and she should not fill out anything without checking with me first. "That's why I called you!" she answered quickly. "It said I WON but I only had 30 seconds to get the prize!"

What seven year old could resist that?

Your [technical] assistance, please

Does anyone know how I can have Blogger send me an email when someone comments on my posts?

I put my email address in the box where it says "We will email you at this address when someone leaves a comment on your blog." However, I have never received an email from Blogger. Am I missing another step?

It is certainly not critical. I can scroll down through each of my posts but I don't always do this daily. So I occasionally get behind on replying to comments. If anyone has any helpful advice, I'd greatly appreciate it.

THANKS!

helpful, She tries to be

Wednesday night C just kept coughing in bed. While I used to force my daughter to take medicine when I thought it was necessary, any type of coercion just backfires with my son. (That kid has his own "force" and will willfully refund anything he does not want to swallow.)However, that night the coughing was nonstop and I knew I had to get him to take something.

My husband suggested putting the cough medicine in his water. I've done this with his Motrin on occasion but I didn't think the cough medicine would work well diluted. It was flavored water though, so thinking he might not detect the medicine and it was better than nothing, we gave it a try. He drank several sips and while he did not get the whole dose, he was sleeping quietly within minutes.

So we all got to go to sleep. The next morning, when he did not want to get up, I told him he could just wear his jacket over his pajamas and stay in the car while we took his sister to school. He grabbed his water bottle on the way to the car.
Taking a sip during the ride, he whined, "Mommy, when I'm sick my water tastes like medicine. Even my juice tastes like medicine!" (I had put berry flavored Motrin in his apple juice one day).
My daughter, ever observant, looked over and explained, "Of course your water tastes funny. It's pink."

She went back to looking out the window quietly and I could not believe that was the end of it. It took a full 10 seconds for what she'd said to bounce around the car for a moment and then hit her. "MOMMY!! His WATER is PINK!!! That CAN'T be GOOD!"

(Flavored or not, WATER should not have a COLOR! )

However, she quickly noted my lack of alarm as I tried to change the subject: "Hey, look at those birds over there!"

"But...Mom..?"

"Is today library day at school, Sweetie?"

Momentary silence. Then she gets it. "Mom? Did you put MEDICINE in C's water bottle?"

"Sssh."

"You did! C, don't drink it! She put medicine in there!"

By now, C is looking queasy. He manages to croak out a "WHAT?!?!?!"

She is trying to be a wise, protective force for her brother but still lacks the wisdom to use The Force effectively.

Better, He is

My son has been sick all week. My daughter has the sniffles and an acute sense that she is not getting her share of attention.

C has needed many more hugs, someone to sleep in his bed with him and finally, when he feels a little better--someone to play toys with him. After having him home all week from school, we've spent much time playing with toys and watching Star Wars Episode II. (Star Wars is the latest fascination--hence the title of this post. Even when the television and the lightsaber that speaks are off, I still keep hearing Yoda's voice in my head!)

I did get a chuckle yesterday when, surrounded by Star Wars figures, Buzz Lightyear figures and many of Buzz's friends from Toy Story, my son was worried he'd be "all alone" when I went to, ahem, powder my nose. After honestly being with this kid 24/7, I thought he could handle five minutes with the dozens of little friends surrounding him. As he started sobbing, coughing and trying to yell (he had no voice) "Mommy, don't go! I will be all alone!" I simply, cheerfully said, "Yup."

He looked a bit surprised but then was fine. He played alone in there for at least ten minutes before coming to look for me.

My daughter did the first reading at Mass today. We were there, even got that part on video for Dad but had to leave halfway through the mass as C still wasn't feeling great. So we were there to see her process in and for her big moment but didn't stay to watch her carry the special book back out of church. She really isn't getting her share of attention this week.

The beat goes on

Do you find yourself still living in a novel days after you've finished reading the book? If it's a good one, I do. I just don't want to let go of the characters quite yet. Or in this case, I can't let go of an object. The haunting rhythm that beats quietly throughout The Painted Drum did not stop sounding when I closed the book.

The other night, my son and I were sleeping in the livingroom. (He's sick but that's another story). At some point during the night, the front cover to our furnace popped off. (I believe that is the technical phrase that repair experts use--"it popped off.") Of course, I was unaware of the source of the problem. I was aware that I was freezing and no matter what I reset the heater to, it would not turn on. I considered going to the garage to see if the fuse switch was off or to the basement to investigate but I knew both areas were colder than where I was, I was exhausted and everyone else was sleeping fine so I tried to curl up on our cooling leather couch.

I thought again about a few young characters in The Painted Drum who are waiting in their small, cold home for their mother to return one winter evening. The oldest daughter wants to turn the heat up but her mother has gone to arrange for some more heating fuel. The daughter had been told that there was just enough fuel to last until her mother returned as long as they did not turn the heat higher. As I lay on our leather couch, which felt colder by the minute, I reflected on how lucky I am. Not only can I go get another blanket out of a closet but I knew the heating problem was some sort of physical problem that we would fix. So many others have no heat because it's something they cannot afford.

We have an agency here in town that assists people who need help finding enough food or enough money to pay their heating bills. Most of our local churches donate money each month to the program but I will call today to see how else I can help. It is sad that in this country where many have so much, so many go without.

Which leads me back to The Painted Drum once more. Louise Erdrich creates very real characters with very human flaws and is also able to use them to comment on larger communities and our society. The same mother who went out for heating fuel also considers having sex for money so she can buy food to bring home. A local war veteran makes the comment later: I want to know something. Why I saw men die for oil in this country where a woman has to sell herself for bread and peanut butter.

Lines like that tend to haunt me for a while.

The Painted Drum

Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. you have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself that you tasted as many as you could.

The quote above is not why I asked for the book. The quote above is one that I found when I thought I was finished with the book.

When I reached what I thought was the end, there was another chapter to go. As I read it, I recognized that the writer saw the need to wrap things up, to end where she'd started and tie up any loose ends. I like a few loose ends--they make me think more about the characters and their situations. So I was skimming through the last chapter, already planning to tell you all that the book should have ended a few pages earlier, when I got to the quote at the top. The quote is from Faye Travers, the first and last character we meet in the book, and it is what she imagines that her mother could tell her, rather than simply saying "good night."

There are three separate, vivid tales within this one novel. The link between the three stories and families is the drum. The drum contains the spirit of a young girl -- a spirit strong enough to save the lives of many others. Whether this girl was sacrificed to save her baby sister or gave her own life willingly to save her younger brother is left to the reader to decide. There is no doubt that she was and is a strong, protective force.

In two of the stories, we see how the loss of a child affects various family members. In the third we watch a desperate mother almost lose her children twice.

As compelling as these stories are, Erdrich enhances them with intimate details of wildlife as well. Her accounts of ravens made me feel like I was back in Fairbanks, where the ravens--who do laugh like humans--were everywhere. Her ravens live in New England but their actions captivated me more than the human characters on many pages. Wolves, dogs and even a bear have important roles in this spirited novel as well.

This is only the second of Ms. Erdrich's many novels that I have read but it will not be the last.

...a rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet

Who did you want to be when you were growing up? This is not about what you wanted to accomplish but who you wanted to be.

When I was in elementary school, I thought Lory was a boring name. Dorky, if you will. I didn't mind my real first name but it's longer and by then everyone was calling me Lory anyway. I know, it's not bad and even a little original in it's spelling. Original names are always misspelled, which takes away the unique quality. There was always at least a Lori and a Laurie in my class with me.

So when I was pregnant with my first child, my husband came home from work with a new, exciting original name. Madison. I liked it. It was unique but hard to misspell. You didn't expect it for a girl but it sounded cool. As I nodded my head, I asked where he had come up with such a name. It had been the name of one of his young patients that morning. Oh.

Still, so what if one other child in the city had the same name? In the following week however, we met two Madisons at the playground. Another was at the hospital. I talked to my sister that week who told me that her pregnant friend (due the same time as both of us) was going to have a girl and name her Madison.

It seemed that Madison was the new name for 1998 so I promptly rejected it. I was glad when we met a few more in Alaska. My daughter would not be one of 4 or 5 other Madisons in her class!

She is now in second grade and of course, she has not had a Madison in her class yet.
She told me this morning that she is sick of her name and wants to change it. "Well, your middle name is beautiful, too," I suggested.

"Nope. I wish I had a different name."

"What do you wish we had named you?"

"Madison."

Of course.

"Do you know anyone named Madison?"

"No."

"Why do you want your name to be Madison?"

"It's cooler than my name."

I sigh. "It's funny. We thought about naming you Madison."

"I know. You told me before. But you messed up and gave me my name. I'm changing my name to Madison."

She typed up "Madison" in a huge font on the computer this morning, printed it several times and has put it on her bulletin board and taped it to her bedroom door. She is answering to the name "Madison" today.

Technical difficulties

Please bear with us. My son is experiencing technical difficulties.

Our son's nickname has been "little buddy" since he was born. It has been a pretty good fit. He is usually a very laid back, easy going kid. Until this week. I realize that children occasionally regress as they're acquiring a new skill, adjusting to a new situation in their life or maybe even a growth spurt. The only event I can see in the near future is his birthday (in 3 weeks) but there have been no other major changes in his life that I know of. However, now that my "little" boy is about to turn 5, he throws a screaming tantrum when I ask him to do things for himself. Now, in the interests of fairness, perhaps I am expecting too much. I have asked him to do such things as: put your PJs in the laundry basket, put your own underwear on and go to the bathroom.

This morning he screamed "I CAN'T DO IT" when I asked him to put his own pants on. I have learned that screaming back will not get the pants on his body. (I am a slow learner but I'm capable of grasping these things eventually). I explained that if he said he could not, he was right. If he tried however, he might be surprised.

Blank look and then more screaming. "I TOLD YOU I CAN'T DO IT!"

I gave up. I picked up the underwear, jeans and half-naked child and put them all in his room.
"You can't run around naked and screaming either," I explained. "I'm shutting the door but you may come out when you are wearing pants."

(He made it out in 30 seconds, dressed.)

Is it the fear of this fifth birthday? He wants me to dress him, undress him, take his coat off, get him a glass a water, wash his hands...

He used to be so proud that he could do all of these himself but I guess the fascination is over. It's hell growing up.

Beetle juice

When I tell people that I am a vegetarian, someone will ask me if I still eat eggs, another will ask about dairy and another will ask me if I eat chicken or fish.
(The answers are yes, yes, no and occasionally).
Simple enough. Animals or animal protein on your plate is usually fairly obvious.

Except for the occasional calamari appetizer, people rarely ask me about ingesting creatures who had more than four legs. After reading Misfit Hausfrau's entry today however, I might need to start looking in my cup of yogurt or glass of juice, just in case anyone asks!

God Bless Her

She is sleeping peacefully now. My daughter was in quite a mood today after school and after her incessant whining and complaining, my mood was not much better. I finally took a deep breath and reminded myself that this is one nervous kid.

She makes her First Reconciliation tomorrow morning. As I've mentioned, she attends Catholic school so she has been preparing for this with her class for quite a while. However, her class received the sacrament while we were in Florida so while she will be doing this with other second graders at our church, she does not know these children.

(She still goes into the confessional alone but she can't turn to her friends for moral support first!) ; )

While I can't imagine she's done too much that I don't know about, she's ready to go as long as my son and I "can't hear through the door." She was in a bit of a panic at bedtime about whether or not to kneel or stand when she goes in and makes the sign of the cross. Seeing the relief on her face when I simply told her "I'm certain either way will be just fine" she ought to feel GREAT when she unburdens anything else!

Poor thing. She was trying to explain to her piano teacher what she'd be doing on Saturday. Her piano teacher is married to a minister but they aren't Catholic and no matter how many times my daughter said "reconciliation," her teacher had no concept of what she was talking about. I reminded her that N goes to Catholic school and that this was her first confession and if she still didn't get it, she didn't let on this time.

Of course, my daughter thought everyone had to do this. On the car ride home, I tried to use the opportunity to explain some of the differences between Catholicism and Protestant religions. I explained that while she'd be confessing her sins to the priest and receiving absolution (assurance that God has forgiven her) some people of other faiths confess their sins directly to God without any intermediaries. She thinks she'd now like to be either Baptist or Lutheran.

Objects in the Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear

And you may ask yourself, how did I get here?

15 years ago, I did not own a car. I walked, rode the streetcar or got a ride from my boyfriend. During the week, I’d get off the streetcar to get a few things at the K&B drugstore by my apartment, and walk home carrying my purchases. I was careful not to hold the purple bag too close to my body as the purple ink would rub off on my clothes.
On the weekends, I’d walk to the Superstore. The prices were much better than the drugstore but the streetcar did not run there. I was careful to only buy what would fit in those little baskets with the handles as I knew if I bought any more, I could not carry it all the way home. (I did not always have cash for a cab but I had my checkbook! I knew I could walk to the grocery store near payday as it’d take a day or two for the check to clear.)

14 years ago, I was driving a brand-new car. It was safe and reliable. My baby was not the dark black car I’d wanted but she was charcoal gray and that was close. The only complaint my boyfriend could find with it (other than how I got “taken” on the financing) was that there was no mirror on the passenger side of the car.
Having my own car gave me so much independence! However, there is a price for freedom. (Namely, car payments and car insurance payments.) I went from wondering if I'd have to work late each night to hoping that I would! (I needed the overtime).

Monday, I backed out of our garage quickly (it was another race to get to my daughter to school on time) and smacked the driver’s side mirror on the side of the garage. The mirror did not break but the mounting was cracked and I could no longer move the mirror.

Yesterday, I drove two hours to the nearest Volvo dealership so that they could professionally install a new mirror on our leased vehicle. It cost $*!%^&*##!* (or roughly the equivalent of one month's car payment and insurance payment for my first car) plus a tank of gas for the trip there and back.

Today I realize that I have been very blessed and am lucky to be living this life. Rather than shaking my head over going to get a new side-view mirror I need to be thankful that I was able to. Now I need to remember to slow down and walk more.

Another Tale from the [Mother]Hood

Since I have become a parent, I hear words coming out of my mouth that I simply never thought would go together.

Today's example:

Son, please do not put your penis on the Yahtzee game.

*sigh*

Quote for Today

A writer doesn’t solve problems.
[S]he allows them to emerge.
~ Friedrich Dürrenmatt

Can You Hear Me?

I tell my son to go to the bathroom. He does not move.
Son, can you hear me?
Yes, but I don’t have to go.
That isn’t what I asked you. Before you get dressed, go to the bathroom.
After we repeat this two more times, he goes to the restroom.

I tell my daughter to get dressed for church. She continues the computer game she is playing.
Sweet Pea, can you hear me?
Yes but I can’t save this unless I win the level.
I did not ask you if you could win or save the game. Go get dressed.
We repeat this one more time before she closes the game and goes upstairs to stare at her closet.
After I ask yet one more time, she starts to pick out a skirt. It’s progress.

Later the same day, I say, I am going upstairs to write one amazing chapter.
Instead, I go upstairs and visit a few blogs. I add myself to Mary P’s map of readers but as I view where other people are from, my computer freezes.
I reboot and go to get a drink from the kitchen.
I thought you were writing, my husband says.
I did not do what I said I would and the computer froze on me. NOW I really am going to write. It will be amazing.

I come back upstairs. I remember my uncle told me about “Google Earth.” It seems like it’d be like Mary P’s map and I want to check it out. It zooms me in to North America and again, my computer locks up. I can’t click on a thing. I turn it off and go to put a load of laundry in the washer while the computer boots up again.
I thought you were writing, my husband repeats.
I don’t listen to me any better than our kids, I reply. I said I’d stay off the internet, I went back anyway and the computer is not having it. It locked up on me again. I’m going back and THIS TIME I’m just going to open Word.

I come back and the computer is ready. I see the pretty new Google Earth icon. I click on it. I type in “Kansas”. It zooms in to Kansas and freezes. Stops. Dead. I can’t click on a thing.
I don’t go back downstairs again. I know the question that awaits me there. I grab my book to read a page while the computer reboots again. I hear a question in my mind:
Can you hear me?

W at KSU!

Yes, the president will be here on Monday! I doubt I'll catch a glimpse of the man though as we did not learn he was coming until two days after students had been camping out to get tickets!

As you may know, I am not a fan of the man. My daughter and hubbie are though and it would be something to say they'd seen the president.

My daughter was mildly impressed when I told her I'd seen the first President Bush (or the president formerly known as President Bush but now referred to as "Bush 41"). He was serving as the vice-president when I saw him. Our highschool band was selected to play in the airplane hangar when he arrived in Florida many moons ago. It was not exactly a personal introduction but it's good enough for my seven-year-old!

We did not make it when Gorbachev was here last year either. (I was more interested in that one but did not find out until the day of the event. I have got to start paying more attention!)

What's the Frequency, Kenneth?

First, I do not sit down at my desk to put into verse something that is already clear in my mind. If it were clear in my mind, I should have no incentive or need to write about it. We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand.
~ Robert Cecil Day-Lewis

I’ve gotten excited about this WIP. I even completed an outline a few months ago, which is something I’ve never accomplished before. Previously, I would write a chapter or two and move on to another idea.
I am not sticking to the outline but it’s a good guide when I’m stuck. One character that I had intended to exist for a few paragraphs, possibly a page or two has taken over the thing. Another irritating yet compelling character has appeared out of nowhere. I never meant to put her in there and I don’t know what to do with her yet but every time I do open the file, she’s up to something.
I have not worked on the file in over a week. Of course, we traveled out-of-town for a few days so I was busy packing/stressing beforehand and I’m still unpacking and washing laundry afterwards but I’m sure I could have found time to write a page or two. I’ve found time to complete three crosswords so I’m sure I could have managed it.
Which brings me to the quote at the top of this post. I came across it today, glaring at me from the bottom of page 9 of the latest Writer’s Digest. It occurred to me that perhaps I’m not stalling because I don’t know what to write next but rather that I’m a little afraid to see just what this one character will do. She is not nice. I suppose her presence balances things out a little. The other main female character is far too nice.
Continuing to write will help me understand the characters, of course, but perhaps I’m also nervous about what those characters will have to say about me.

He ain't heavy...

...he's my brother! Ain't he cute? I took the photo myself. (I got out my Kodak camera, snapped the flash cube on top and starting taking pictures! So it is not necessarily digital quality but that wasn't an option when I was twelve!)

This cute little guy is getting married on Saturday! (He looks a little different now).

We are off to Florida for the wedding. Maybe I will post a higher-quality photo when we return! Have a great weekend!

The time has come...to de-lurk!

The holidays are over, you're getting back into your routine...your bloghopping routine, that is. This week, when you stop by, please say hi!

(As I stopped by Angela's site this morning, I learned that it's de-lurking week! So I said hello and followed her link to another great blog to add to my growing list of sites to see!)

Share your favorite book, song or movie. Tell us a little about yourself...or don't! At least post who you are and if you have a blog, leave the link...I will visit!

I am SO glad she goes to Catholic school!

I was lecturing my son on his behaviour in Mass this morning so of course, my daughter was momentarily left out of the conversation. Determined to both be included and show her brother how much better she'd behaved, she wanted me to know she'd been listening this morning.

N: I know something that Father said in church today.
Me: I'm glad you were listening. What did Father talk about?
N: He talked about the three wise men.
Me: Yes, he did. Good. What did he say about them?
(hmmm....she pauses...)
N: They came to bring gifts to baby Jesus!
(she's proud)
Me: What gifts did they bring?
N: Gold! And frankincense!
(she's very proud)
Me: That's good. You mentioned two gifts but each wise man brought something. What was the third gift?
N: Ummm....gold, frankincense and...murder!

Epiphany

I love it when things come together.

I’ve been reading bits of Walking the Bible, sharing the journey with the author. As he finds more “proof” for the characters and events that are depicted in the Bible, it feels thrilling. I feel like I’m on the verge of a discovery myself.

Yesterday, in when I made a comment about The Epiphany to my daughter’s piano teacher, she summarized a presentation she’d been to recently by a renowned astronomer who illustrated, through computers and large screens how the planets aligned a little over 2,000 years ago on what had to be December 25. She repeated his explanation that these planets can only align this way once in so many thousands of years and they’ve determined that the last time they would have done so would have been at that time.
Using the large tv/computer screens, he showed what the night sky would have looked like when these planets all aligned -- like an incredibly bright star.

So I Googled that today and learned a little before going bloghopping. A post on Simply Put led me to Q’s blog, Ragged Glory. There, I learned a lot more about how the date, December 25, was assigned to the birth of Christ. I also learned that some observe January 6 as the birthday of the baby Jesus. My family has always called this date “Little Christmas.” My mother’s family observed a Christmas celebration on this day when she was growing up. Her mother had been brought up in the Ukrainian Orthodox Catholic church and observed January 6 as Christmas but I thought it was due to the arrival of the Magi on this date. (Having no cars, it took them 12 days to get to the spot that the star had illuminated for them…)

I went to Mass this morning where we celebrated the Feast of the Epiphany, recognizing that this is the day those wise men arrived. While that may be true, that isn’t where the Orthodox Church got the date. Q explains beautifully where these dates originated. I’m still marveling at this post. The explanation is logical, symbolic and almost seems obvious now…and yet I’ve never heard this information before.

Every once in a while, I will hear a song more than once in the same day and, because I’m just that weird, it occurs to me that perhaps Someone is trying to get my attention for one reason or another.
At three different times today, I heard the same song playing on the car radio. As I do tend to change stations often in the car, this is not all that remarkable. If it were the latest pop hit or yet another carol on this day, I would understand. It was not. It was Eric Clapton’s Tears in Heaven. This song holds no personal attachment for me – it was a hit when my grandmother passed away and my younger brother suggested having it played at the funeral – but that’s as far as attached memories go. However, because the song is what it is, it does lead my mind in that direction and I wonder…

Webster’s has three definitions for the word “Epiphany.” I love that I can use all three definitions in discussing some part of my day today.

Everything keeps falling into place today. It has been a bright albeit cold day. I only had a few things I had to get done and they’re done. I wanted to write more on the WIP but I wrote some and had a new revelation for one of the main characters so that helps a lot. (I felt like I was learning some really cool things today that I can also justify as research for this character! I love it when that happens!)

So after sending one child off to a friend’s house after school and watching the other nod off for a nap, I started to wonder at all the connections. Is it just a really good day?
Then I had my epiphany: it is The Epiphany. It is a special day.

Meme

Just as I was wondering how one is actually tagged in this game…I find I’m one of five people who are now “it!” So as I join the game, I get to tag a few more people…

Remove the top blog from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom.

Becky
Childsplayx2
The Weirdgirl
It's Not All Mary Poppins
Lory’s blog

Select five people to play (entirely voluntary, of course)
Angela
Aaron
Kacey
Rene
Sarah

What were you doing ten years ago?
I had been living in Washington state for six months. I had a job (that I hated) in Seattle (which I loved). By this time, I had a few friends that I worked with but no real good friends in my new home just yet. My hubbie and I were renting a townhouse in Tacoma and shared it with our dog, who we had allowed to become the real head of the household!
The hubbie and I were doing OK at this point. I had moved to Washington state with him the previous summer, despite telling him and myself that I would not.
Later in the year, the hubbie would go to Korea for a year and things would improve even more! (I know that sounds terribly sarcastic but we actually communicated better with the entire Pacific Ocean between us!)
So for the second half of the year…I was still married but living alone for a year. I quit the job that I hated and worked for a temp agency. (That gave me the freedom to visit hubbie in Korea twice). I finally made some really good friends in Washington state and began to call it home.
While I still answered “Catholic” when asked my religion, I was not attending church very regularly.

What were you doing one year ago?
I’d been living in Kansas for six months and while we’d lost our dog long ago, we were now a family of four.
I still had not completed the novel but I had two great kids keeping me busy and at this point, I was watching another little boy in our home every Monday. At this time in January, I was also preparing to visit my husband for the “spouses weekend” at Notre Dame University. Having completed all of his medical training he was now embarking on a new course…the MBA. He’d been up there for almost a week but the weekend entailed some “classes” for the spouses to prepare us for the next 15 months of our lives. (Having not only worked through the issues from the last entry, but also being with him through college, medical school, residency and the moves that go with Army life…I was pretty sure I knew how to handle him being back in school…again. However, it was still a break from the kids while I met some new, friendly people and learned how to “spot signs of stress in my spouse or myself.” ) The campus is quite beautiful.
I was attending mass twice a week and involved in an all-faith bible study twice a month.

Five snacks you enjoy.

1. Popcorn (yes, with real butter)

2. Cheetos

3. Chips and dip (just about any type of chip or dip!)

4. Anything that has cheese in it, has cheese on top of it or something I can dip into cheese

5. Nuts

Five songs to which you know all the lyrics.(All the correct lyrics? Do I have to be able to sing them without the music?!?)

1. I'm Henry the VIII I Am (Herman’s Hermits)

2. Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans? (Louis Armstrong, Harry Connick, Jr)

3. Blue Skies (Irving Berlin’s) (at least I know the words the way Ella sings ‘em!)

4. Most songs sung by the Beatles

5. Hark the Herald Angels Sing (and maybe another Christmas carol or two…)

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire.

1. Buy my parents a new house

2. Buy my parents a new car

3. Give each of my siblings a little bit

4. Sponsor children and support more charities

5. If there was anything left, buy a house on the beach.

Five bad habits.

1. Yell at my kids.

2. Blame my husband when I can’t find something, then go back and apologize when I find it (right where I left it). If I could just keep my mouth shut, it’d save us both a lot of aggravation !

3. Remind my husband when he comes up with a “great idea” that I suggested months ago. (He forgets and then thinks it’s new). Again, if I could keep my mouth shut, I could probably get anything I want! ; )

4. Drink too often. (Not necessarily too much but too often. I’m already working on this one in 2006)

5. I’m disorganized.

Five things you like doing.

1. Reading

2. Writing

3. Playing the piano

4. Reading to/playing with my kids

5. Hanging out with the hubbie (without the kids)!

Five things you would never wear or buy again.

1. White shoes. I see no reason

2. A bikini (used to love them but now there is no point in wearing something purely to frighten people)

3. short shorts (see above)

Otherwise, never say never!!

Five favourite toys.

1. The computer

2. Hubbie’s Ipod

3. Piano

4. My kids (OK—they aren’t actually toys but they’re usually much more amusing!)

5. Five? I don't have enough toys! (Though there are more than enough in this house to go around!!)

Black eyed peas

These "peas"...

...not these!

Enjoying black-eyed peas on New Year's Day is a Southern tradition. The idea is that if you eat them on January 1st, you will be prosperous during the year.
No one else in my family was interested in eating them last year so I found a new recipe. They were kind enough to appear interested this time but never got around to actually trying them. If it brings me luck or a buck, of course I will share!

In truth, I guess none of us are southerners anyway!
I was born in south Florida and grew up in north Florida but no one else considers any part of that state "the South." (The fact that it is south of much of the rest of the country makes no difference!) Most of the state is comprised of transplants from somewhere else! My mom is originally from Michigan and my Dad is from Maryland.
My husband was born in Texas though both of his parents were born and grew up in New Orleans, Louisiana. He moved all over the world as a kid while his Dad was in the Army.
Both of my children were born in Washington state so that's not even close!

Still, when it comes to customs: you don't have to be a native of the area where the tradition originated to still practice it, right?
Do you follow any particular rituals at the beginning of a new year?

Party time, continued...

Do you have the day off today? Are you still celebrating? My hubbie and kids will be.
We'll spend some family time doing something fun today...until the game, that is. All else will stop at 4pm CST and at least half of the family will revolve around the Fiesta Bowl.

(My son may lose patience with it and I'm hoping to get a little writing done then, despite the cheering from downstairs. My hubbie has always been a Notre Dame fan, long before he was a student but our daughter has become quite dedicated herself!)

I hope you are enjoying the first days of 2006!