Monday morning update

Birthday parties (both N's and friends') were fun and we've been spending time at the local pool.

Hubbie returned from another interview on Friday evening. He really likes both practices that he's interviewed with so far (still a few more to go) but it looks like these are at the top of the list. Both have their advantages so it may come down to a preference in climate---one is in Indiana and the other in Texas. We will accompany him on the next two trips--Kansas City (not far) and Arkansas--so I'll keep you updated!

Our houseguests completed their nest. We can't see but are sure that eggs are inside now--one bird remains close by at all times and they're much more protective of our front porch! I'll post the pic of the nest soon and will let you know when the little ones arrive! (C is already having trouble waiting. He was checking on the nest each morning when he got up but this morning asked if I could check the nest and just tell him if I could see baby birds.)

We have human guests arriving soon, too! My sister and her family are due to arrive this evening so my posts may remain infrequent for a few more days!

I hope you are enjoying your summer!

This is for the birds

There was a construction delay!

While I suspect I might have given up -- or at least stopped for lunch-- the bird who was standing on the nest when it collapsed flew off and returned a moment later with a new branch. In the meantime, the partner flew up, looked around for a second but added another branch and they kept working. I did not hear a chirp or squawk that could have been interpreted as "what did you do?", "I just put that piece there!" or even "I told you that mud was too soft!"

They just kept taking turns, quietly rebuilding the nest.

Nesting

No -- not me -- our fine feathered friends!

We had a bird family in the corner of our porch two years ago. Once the babies learned to fly and the entire family took off, a man-made storm (hubbie with the hose on jet-stream) took out their home. Though I suspect they flew by last year, they did not take up residence.

This past weekend, they began building a new nest. These photos were taken yesterday.

Summer vacation

As you may have suspected--noting the infrequent posts--the kids are home.

We celebrated the last day of Vacation Bible School and N's birthday with a sleepover party last night. As I have mentioned in earlier posts, while I am not the sharpest tool in the shed, I am capable of learning. After surviving last year's party -- the one I called "the more the merrier/what's one more girl?" debaucle -- N was allowed to invite only four girls. Of those invited, only two could attend. This was the first of her sleepovers that the hubbie was home for and was the easiest one so far. While he takes full credit--suggesting that we all behaved better knowing the master was home--it did alleviate the stress level considerably knowing that there was another adult around.

Tomorrow is N's actual birthday so I may do something ridiculous like make the 45-minute drive to Chuck E. Cheese's or something along those lines and then we'll settle in for our summer! Poor C loved his graduation but now is so ready for kindergarten, he just can't believe that he has more "vacation" to get through! I'm sure he'll manage ~ we have cousins coming to visit, swim lessons to attend and even a trip or two with hubbie while he's interviewing.

For my relatives looking for dates here when we will be visiting--you won't find them. We will visit but I have not managed to plan that far ahead yet. It will not be June. I will keep you posted!

Thank You

Do you act your age?

You Are 35 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?

Catholic guilt?

I was exhausted after traveling with the kids all afternoon yesterday and yet still stayed up for an hour or two after they went to bed. I watched Jay Leno interview Julia Stiles who was promoting her new movie. She talked about her character who feels guilty that she has no love for her son: the Devil.

This interview came to mind this afternoon when my daughter, who was tired, hot and cranky, hit her brother on the arm because his new toothbrush was on the conveyor belt ahead of hers at the supermarket. When he wailed (it was quite dramatic as he, too, was tired, hot and cranky) she smiled with pure pleasure.

As siblings will, she alternated between torturing him and playing with him once we got home. Once everyone was settled in bed, she called me back up to give me a hug. She said she was "sorry for today" and is now praying her rosary!

I don't know whether to be proud that she has remorse or worry that she is just lulling me into a false sense of security before launching a new plan of attack tomorrow.

Then I left and now I'm back!

Without a coherent post but I wanted to say hello before everyone quits visiting altogether!

C was sick with a fever for several days last week and recovered just in time for us to head out-of-town on Friday! We visited one city that my hubbie is interviewing in before heading on to South Bend for his graduation on Sunday. It was chilly for the outdoor graduation but worth it to see the hubbie graduate (with honors!) from Notre Dame! He can now add M.B.A. to all the other letters that follow his name! He is still in Indiana but the kids and I returned last night.

Both kids had separate "field days" today so we are all light pink and very tired but we have lotion and at least they are already in bed!

I am very, very behind in my bloghopping but hope to catch up this week. (It is the last week of school for the kids and I'm certain that they have more activities in the last two weeks of school than the rest of the year!) So it may take me a few days to catch up but I will!

I'm still here...

Physically, anyway! I don't know where the past week has gone!

Mother's Day was relaxing. C got sick and is just now really recovering. A fever from Sunday through Tuesday night with no other symptoms! (Of course, we broke the fever with Motrin every six hours. If nothing else, that kid is consistent! (Or Motrin is!) The bottle says dosages should last 6-8 hours but with C, you can tell when six hours is up without a clock!

Otherwise, I did get some time alone to read upstairs (wrote a little and snuck a nap in too!) and I got a small digital camera! I've borrowed hubbie's from time to time but it's a few years old now and much larger than the cute little cameras I see moms bringing to school functions. It's almost like lugging the video camera and I have no idea what most of the functions on that thing are. Now I have one! All I asked for was for everyone to leave or duct tape for children's mouths! I did not get those but they behaved most of the day and now I can easily take photos of the little angels to share!

I've just got to figure out how to share now! Another little book to read...

Did you save room for dessert?

When you've finished reading that book on your nightstand and are wondering what to open next, you'll want to try a few pages of this.

Honestly, I haven't finished it yet. I'm three-quarters of the way through but savoring every page. This book is like a whole cheesecake. I could not possibly eat the whole thing at once; it is very rich; I enjoy a little at a time but it is so good!

When I finally finish the entire book, I'll give you a more complete report. In the meantime, as you look through the menu of books available, I highly recommend this one! And you won't just find it on the dessert page; it can be a light snack or a hearty entree, too!

As an appetizer: Feiler's humor is a great place to start! Even when you start to feel tired and dusty with him in the dessert, he'll say something to make you laugh!

Nutritious salads: Along with gaining a great appreciation for the locales of the Middle East, Feiler introduces you to some fascinating people.

Entrees:
*all entrees are served with a nutritious salad, a soup of ancient history and a reminder of manna.
Comfort foods: Adam and Eve, Noah and Moses are all here. They haven't changed but you might look at them in a new way.
Nouvelle cuisine: Feiler gets into some heavy topics and personal growth but finishes them off with a light sauce of common sense and a garnish of humor.
Milk and Honey: Walking through ancient cities in modern times, Feiler offers a new perspective on some of the messages and history of the Pentateuch.

Dessert: Rich language and vivid descriptions of life in exotic locales. (If that isn't enough, the photo on the back cover is a treat, too!) ;)

I did not make it

I kept putting the B4B entry off this month. To write honestly about cheating would be awfully revealing and to come up with a clever way to cheat on this one was beyond me!

Then, in the shower today, only three hours after the official deadline had passed, I remembered something I could use.

I took a look and it looks like the comments are not actually closed but I can't enter it now. That would be cheating. I lied but I'm not cheating.

Hooray!

The last day of classes was yesterday;
The hubbie has earned his MBA!
His graduation is later in May!
Yay!

I'd invite you over but then I'd have to clean my house

So I blog. This way, I can sit down and "chat" without having to wash the kitchen floor.
(OK--those of you who actually do visit know I rarely do that anyway--but you get the idea).

I keep saying that I can write from home. I say I can have a load of laundry washing, pay a bill and write all at the same time. I usually do wash laundry, have a snack, pay a bill, have a snack and read blogs. Though I keep saying that I need to physically leave the house and go to a coffee shop to write, I rarely do it. So I'm usually pleased with myself when I write 300 words in a day.

Wednesday I decided to take action. I grabbed the hubbie's laptop and went to a coffee shop attached to a discount bookstore. In a little over an hour, I'd written 1,535 new words for the WIP!

This was a good idea! I had coffee, I had no internet access and I was surrounded by my favorite authors!
This was a bad idea! I had too much coffee and after a successful hour, I decided to go shop for my favorite authors.

I'm a slow learner but I can be taught. I will go back today but I'm only bringing $5.
(That might not be enough for two cups but it certainly will keep me from adding another book to the TBR pile! It should cut down on unnecessary posts, too!)

Pass it on! B4B is Live!

It's time again for Blogging for Books! I WILL get my entry in this month and I hope you all will join me!

...blog about cheating. Any old kind of cheating will do. Games, Lovers, Tests, it's all fair game until you admit in writing that you've cheated on the ever-faithful IRS....
GO!

How to play: You blog on a chosen topic. You post a link to your blog entry in the comments below this entry on Joshilyn Jackson's blog.

B4B closes next Monday when the comments close on this entry, EXACTLY seven days from the very second this posted. <----note the slight rule change. If you have no blog, you write the essay and cut and paste it (no attachments please) into an email to Ann Fitten (the Bloggess behind Edgy Mama) and ask her sweetly to host it for you.

Purple Haze II

These were my first photos, with the flash still on...
but these are what inspired the title of this and the last post.

Purple haze

There was a pretty pink sunset to go along with these but I did not capture it.
(Though I FINALLY stopped trying to take photos with the flash on and at least got something!)
I thought the hedge was lilac but after looking up the word online, it turns out lilacs look like this. That photo helped me identify what is growing in my backyard but I still don't know what my hedge is made up of! The blossoms are very fragrant, they're lavender-colored and the more we trim the hedge each summer, the more blooms we have each spring! I'll try to get a close-up of whatever these are when the sun comes back out but it's a blustery, dreary afternoon!

If only there were a magic pill

I've been overwhelmed with the idea of putting the whole book together. I know I have holes but I have so many scattered files that need to be edited and merged together. So I thought I would do a better job if I printed everything out, sorted it into piles/chapters and then started going through it.

I have killed at least one adult tree.

That may not be the only casualty.

My plan is literally spiraling out of control. The idea of neat stacks was a dream. I have parts to insert so right now, I have what looks like a white and black pinwheel on my office floor. So much for a linear progression!

While I complain, whine and stress about daily parenting issues, parenting is a different type of stress than I used to experience in college and the working world. The kind that would put my back in knots. The knots are back today! I just have not determined if the stress is over the thousands of words strewn about my floor, crying to be organized or if the pain is a result of the HALF-HOUR I had to fight with my printer to get it to start spitting out pages. That fight brought back many memories of fighting with printers, copiers and computers back when I earned a paycheck. So maybe I could finish this book with less stress if I went back to an old manual typewriter.

(As you can see, the whole project is affecting my judgement!)

It will all be fine. I will keep printing and tonight I'll have a glass of wine as I sit down with the papers and the red pen.

Or maybe I can find one of these!

Oh, I have issues!

(But you already knew that!)

I just love meeting new people and making new friends in the blogosphere!

Meet Margie! She commented on my post about mowing the lawn alongside a 7-year-old and invited me to email her. A couple of emails later, I have lots of pretty compliments, ideas on how to make my site a little more colorful, and a very pretty, colorful award button over there! (Look to the left!)

Margie is giving awards to moms who blog in honor of Mother's Day. If you're a mom or know one who blogs, get in touch with Margie! (Click on that cute button over there or here).

Margie---Thank You! I am honored to be included in your list

And then there was the buzz about the bee*

It's a good thing that neither child actually saw the deceased hare. We had enough trauma with a wasp. Maybe it was a hornet. It could have been a bee. It was certainly enough to strike terror in the hearts of C and N.

Good Friday was a whirl of activity. N had invited a friend over, which I thought would give me time to clean the house. It turned out to be a very nice day so the girls played outside, came in for drinks, then needed towels for a "picnic" outside, then came back in to ask if they could don swimsuits and play in the sprinker. So they changed and they played in the water. Came back in, changed and had lunch, changed again and went back out. They came back in, dried off, changed, played in N's room, changed again, went back out...and so it went.

By the time the friend left, I had a little over an hour to run an errand, shower and clean the house. (As we attempted them in that order, you can tell which one did not get done). Especially as the "little over an hour" changed to "less than an hour" the moment we let the wasp in the house with us. He stayed up in the large window that no one can reach but the concern over what he could do was all-consuming. I explained that if they just left the insect alone, he'd leave them alone.

When we returned from the store to find it still in the window, the questions just increased.
"How does a bee sting?"
"Is it a bee or a wasp?"
"What does it feel like if it stings you?"
"If it's a bee it'll die when it stings us. Is it a bee? If it dies, does it go to heaven? Can you see when you are in heaven? Can you see bees in heaven? How can you see in Heaven?"

By the time the babysitter arrived, they were distracted showing her their new sticker books and forgot about the bee/wasp issue.

The next day, the wasp was still in the window, desperately searching for a way out but not leaving that particular window. As the day wore on, you could tell the little guy was getting weaker.

By the end of Saturday, after I mowed the grass and finally got a shower, I came out to find the wasp crawling outside my bedroom, at the top of the stairs. I asked my daughter to keep an eye on the wasp while I looked for a big shoe or book to put it out of its misery. She backed into her room (partly to stay away from the bee and partly to make sure I did not use her shoe). My son started to come upstairs, volunteering to "keep an eye on the bee," when it occured to me that after dead bunnies, wavering faith in the Tooth Fairy and my constant assurances that the bee would leave them alone if they left it alone--maybe I could still get this little guy out of the house alive. I could save the day for someone--even if the someone was a bug. I told my son to go ask his dad for a shoebox while I kept an eye on the wasp. My thinking was maybe I could put the box on the step below and slowly scoot the wasp into the box with the lid. My son came back with my hubbie, who came with one of N's new shoes, and smacked the wasp.

Though they were stunned for a moment, they recovered as they were at least released from the fear of that ever-present stinger. However, for the week afterwards, every time my son went up the stairs, I'd hear him muttering "poor little bee."

He still asks me at least once a day how you can see in Heaven.
____________
* After initially posting this, I looked for our "bee" online and found that it was a European paper wasp.

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.