Fresh Air

Feel it blowing? Oh sure, it's a little hot, but it's fresh. See, it was getting a bit stale in here. So I thought I'd open things up a bit, do a little cleaning and some updating too.

First of all, I've added some new blog links (so these folks will see a little bump in their Technorati authority). These are pretty much the bulk of what resides in my iGoogle tabs and feeds. You'll find a bunch of writers, a few speakers, agents and any of my friends who have blogs (that I know of).

I also updated my list of what I'm reading. That changes often enough that it's hard to keep up with. And really it's an incomplete list. I'm also currently reading Guerrilla Marketing For Writers and Publicize Your Book - any hints as to what my current project might be? Plus I picked up a Nora Roberts novel at the library today out of curiousity.

That's about it so far. Like my home, this blog gets a bit neglected in the Summer. It's hard to take care of either when you're spending hours at the pool or off on Friday Fun on Thursday outings (I rarely manage to hold Friday Fun on Friday - what's up with that?). Hope it feels a little fresher and more welcoming.

Thanks, as always, for stopping by. And no matter how dusty it gets, remember you're always welcome here.

New Shoes

These. Are my. New. Shoes.

(WARNING: Silly dithering about totally superficial stuff to follow. Read at your own risk. Unless you love shoes. Then you'll understand).

Aren't they lovely? I think I've said it here before that I don't like to shop. Really. Except for shoes. And especially when there is a great shoe sale. Today I found one. I knew Carson Pirie Scott department store was having a big clearance sale and I had some coupons to sweeten the deal. So I went in looking for: a bathing suit and adorable shoes.

Bathing suits this year just weren't working for me - and that's with them on the hangers. A lot of browns. But never mind the bathing suits. Now for the shoes...oh the shoes!

The entire stock of Bobbie Blu shoes was 60% off. I saw the sign. And I saw the shoes. And I told myself to breathe deep. Because I love that entire line of shoes. Bobbie Blu shoes were made for this girl. There's not a pair I wouldn't wear (just maybe one or two that would be dangerous for me to wear). They are funky and cute and...and...I just love them! But being the woman of restraint and frugality that I am, I told myself that it simply wasn't an option to buy (or even try on) all of them. So I picked the two most adorable, sweet looking, catch-your-eye pairs of flats to go with jeans. And I tried them on.

Can I say that they are even cuter on my feet than they are on the shelf? These shoes give me happy feet!

Now, while I wait for jeans weather, just what other outfits can I pair these fantastic little shoes with?

I'm Still Here

Just doing stuff like taking kids to swimming lessons (LMH is going to learn a flip turn tomorrow. I'm jealous. I never learned how to do that and I think it would make my lap-swim workout so much more effecient), having picnics at parks with friends or watching Musing Dad play volleyball at lunch.

We've been camping, bike riding, disc golfing and pulling weeds. I've put nearly eight coats of varnish on these perler bead circles that the girls have made to sell as markers at disc golf tournaments. And they sold twenty-plus bottles of frozen lemonade at last month's tournament.

We've memorized about a third of Philippians 4 and worked through hundreds of workbook pages. Each of the girls are learning new things like how to write lower-case letters, how to play the flute and piano, how to improve their disc golf throw and how to juggle.

I've read Ninety Minutes in Heaven, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince and am three-quarters of the way through with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (if you've read it all, don't share any spoilers).

Hope that explains the occasional lapses in blog posts. Hope you're out doing fun stuff too. If you have any fun ideas for things we can try this summer, let me know in the comments below.

Happy middle of Summer (yes, we passed the half-way mark here in our fair city)!

You Gotta See This

My dad pointed me to this amazing video today. It is unlike anything out there, so it's hard to describe. It's beautiful and funny. And it captures this great global sense of community. Don't let the brash title keep you from watching it.

Old Playgrounds = New Experiences

Where we live our children are blessed to play on the latest, newest, safest playground equipment. There are monkey rings and spider web climbers, zip lines, rock climbing walls, roller slides, and tons of fun play stuff. When we moved into our house five years ago the nearest playground at the grade school was undergoing a complete overhaul. Since then other parks in the area have been redone too.

I appreciate all this new equipment. I'm glad my kids can have the best of what's out there. But until this past weekend when they got to play on a hopelessly outdated playground at our campground, I didn't realize what they were missing.

Remember the merry-go-round? Not the carousel type with horses that go up and down. I'm talking about the circular platform with metal bars that is kid-powered. Or how about the seesaw/teeter totter, which is basically a wooden board with two handles that rests on a bar? Aside from the monkey bars those had been my favorite parts of our park when I was growing up. We'd play this game on the merry-go-round that involved trying to keep your balance while standing in the middle as the other kids spun like crazy. And I remember sitting endlessly on the seesaw, just floating up and down while a friend and I ate popsicles and chatted and played make-believe.

Those things no longer exist on modern playgrounds. They're considered dangerous. Oh heck, they are dangerous...but fun! Well, my kids got their first taste of a merry-go-round this weekend. And they learned about centrifugal force when their friends' dad showed them how to lean outward and then pull in to the center to speed up the rotation. And one of their friends learned the necessity of hanging on (at least I think he did, after being flung off more than once).

There weren't any seesaws there. But now I'm on the lookout for them. I've realized what I'm missing about our playgrounds. Never mind my kids, they're safer without these things. But me? I'm just yearning for another chance to float up and down on a seesaw while chatting with a friend -- and getting a good leg workout in the process.

More Than You Ever Wanted to Know

Ed Gilbreath at Reconciliation Blog tagged me for this meme. And since it's Summer and I'm on vacation, I figured I'm game to go with it.

Here are the rules:

* Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
* Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
* Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
* Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Seven Facts About Me:

1. I'm sitting in my pop-up camper right now in Coloma, Michigan. Because you know, camping is all about getting away from it all and enjoying the wide outdoors. The RV across the road has a satellite dish set up. Yep, we are all roughing it here!

2. Weird fact: two of my toes are permanently curved. To straighten them would require breaking of bones. Therefore they remain forever curled under.

3. As I kid I preferred soft serve ice cream to hard. So when we scooped ice cream at home (preferably chocolate) I would mush and stir 'til it reach soft serve consistency. These days? Who has the patience?!

4. I don't watch TV, except for The Simpsons (with my husband, because it's his thing) and Ugly Betty, which I watch online while folding laundry.

5. I once worked for my hometown weekly newspaper as a receptionist/classified ad taker. The best day of the week was Wednesday when the week's paper was put to rest. The owner would give me the keys to his fancy Lincoln so I could get lunch for the staff. It was always a big celebration.

6. I have never played in a curling match. This probably comes as no surprise to my American readers, but when I worked for a Canadian company, my co-workers were just aghast at this. I later learned that there actually is a curling club in Chicago, so there may be hope for me yet.

7. I'm an incredibly indecisive person. And I'm learning from a book on character that I'm using with my children, that indecisiveness is a vice (not a virtue). I can't decide if I agree with that or not. I also can't decide which seven bloggers I'd like to hear from. So...I've probably done this before, but I'm doing it again: if you'd like to be tagged, consider it done and leave a link in the comments below. And if you don't want to be tagged, tell me what you think about indecisiveness - is it a shortcoming character-wise or not?

No Doubt

She Speaks was a great conference. As a writer, speaker and blogger I would have loved to have sat it on almost every workshop they had. As it was, though, I ended up on overload with all the information I gained in the ones I did get to. Translating it all to my life will make a world of difference.

I mentioned in my previous post that it was more than just a conference. It had all the makings of a great retreat: awesome worship sessions, Bible-centered keynote talks, tranquil prayer room and good bonding time in small groups. With the high caliber of speakers they had, I found myself reaching for a Kleenex not only in the main sessions, but also just about every workshop (okay, so in the "What Not to Wear" workshop it might have been tears of lament over having to give up my terrific oversized handbag that's not proportional to my medium-sized body). I've been summing it up for folks as a "10-hankie weekend".

On Saturday evening, Renee Swope spoke on "Beyond the Shadow of Doubt". At the end of her talk she invited everyone to write down on a postcard the doubts they were having. And then we were invited to come forward and lay those doubts at the foot of the cross and take a verse card that was there -- verse cards that had been prayed over, seeking that each one would answer the doubts and needs of the receiver.

It was amazing to see the universality of doubt. Every woman there seemed to experience it to one degree or another. Many were crying as they came forward.

It was also amazing to see how the verse cards truly did meet the needs of each one's heart. One postcard placed at the cross went something like this: "I'm feeling like I'm only second-rate and not worthy of doing anything significant". The verse that person received? "You are precious and honored in my sight, and I love you. Isaiah 43:4."

There is no doubt that God is using Proverbs 31 Ministries and the She Speaks conference to equip women ask writers, speakers, women's ministry leaders, and yes, bloggers. It is unlike any other writers' conference I have been to.

This Northern Gal Goes South

Being in North Carolina this weekend for the She Speaks conference was such a delight. I could almost feel my pulse settle into a slower rhythm while I was there. The highways weren't so crowded or frenetic feeling. People in shops and restaurants were friendly and polite. And then there were the drawling accents - the langurous "y'alls" and "girlfriends" that peppered conversations with Southern sweetness.

The best part of this was listening to my inner voice pick up that drawl and carry it into all my interior monologues and thoughts. I was much kinder to myself while down South. Even if I had wanted to say to myself, "What were you thinking, you idiot!" after some social misstep (which always generates that kind of reaction from my inner voice - it's a very, very hard-to-please type), "Well now, what were y'all thinking, girlfriend?" always comes off half as harsh. Which had me wishing there was some way I could stay.

And then there was the sweet tea. I'm a tea drinker through and through. Die hard. I brew my first cup while still in my pajamas. Hot or cold, I love tea - with LOTS of sugar. Around here, you get your tea without sugar, or if it's sweetened, it's only mildly so. But sweet tea in North Carolina? Now that I could live with every day. Yep, I was thinking I could have me some sweet tea like that all the time. Y'all know what I mean?

But this Northern gal is back home now. And while she may be driving faster and talking flatter, her pulse is still lazing along Southern style. It was such a pleasure to visit North Carolina and be treated to a retreat-like conference hosted by the wonderful team of Proverbs 31 Ministries. I'd go back in a Northern heartbeat.

Eating in the Car

Who knew it could be so fun? To me it’s something I do only out of necessity. But this summer I’m finding for my kids that it’s a treat.

It started last week when we were delayed meeting friends for a picnic at a children’s theme park. As we drove there I encouraged my kids to make the most of our time by eating their lunch in the van instead. I waited for the groans and complaints. Instead they cheered.

With them being 9, 7 & almost 5 it actually worked. LMH kept control of the cooler and divvied out the food. By the time we pulled into the parking lot of our destination everyone (including me!) had finished eating. And when we found our friends they were packing up their own blankets and getting ready to move on to the fun.

Fast forward to this week. My children are tired of getting up at 6:30 to eat breakfast before taking LMH to her 7:30am flute lessons. It’s summer. They want to sleep in. I want them to sleep in. So we’ve found a new arrangement that everyone loves. I let them sleep until 7am and then they pack up a little container of dry cereal to munch on in the car while they wait during lessons (and LMH takes her own container to eat on the way home - not before, lest she blow cereal bits into that precious instrument).

Now as I’m packing for the She Speaks conference I’m thinking this same thing might work well for my plane trip. Instead of eating breakfast in the airport, I could take one of those individual serving boxes of cereal that we have in our pantry for camping. With some milk from the flight attendant I could have breakfast on the plane. That works for me!

For more fun tips check out Rocks in My Dryer's Works-For-Me-Wednesday post.

Happy Sad

Yesterday as we drove past the cemetery in town Timid Daughter asked, "Why do the cars go in the cemetery?"

I was still pondering how to explain this to a seven-year-old when she answered herself (because TD in particular is fond of talking to herself). This is what she said:

"People go there for memories - to remember the people that died. When someone we know dies we're not sad for them. We're sad because we miss them, but we're happy for them because they're in heaven. And that's a good thing for them..."

She kept pondering this for a moment.

"Did you know that you can be two things at once? You can be both happy and sad at the same time."

Then Timid Daughter continued along that thought for a bit more. The idea of experiencing two opposing emotions at once was a new one for her and I think she enjoyed thinking it through.

I thought of her monologue today when I read L.L. Barkat's post, Of Bridges & Violins & Words.

And I thought of these verses yesterday as TD was speaking:

Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage each other with these words.

1 Timothy 4:13-18

I hope those words encourage you today too.

A Super Fantastic Wonderfully Superb Day

As we gathered the fixings for some sundaes this evening, Timid Daughter turned to me and commented, "This has been a really cool, fun day!"

I looked down at her grinning face.

"We got to do so many great things!" she exclaimed.

I began racking my brain...so many great things? Let's see:

*we waited in the van for a half hour at 7:30am for LMH's flute lesson

*we did some odd chores, schoolwork, etc. at home

*went to Backyard Bible School (okay, that qualifies as cool & fun)

*ate lunch & went to the library (in my book, very fun)

*then went out for groceries

*washed the van (involved water and bathing suits, which generally constitutes fun)

*read, cooked, ate

*pulled a gazillion maple sproutlings from our yard - among the grass no less

*had an ice cream sundae bar, meaning we got out all the toppings and sprinkles we could find and held a make-your-own (most definitely fun)

It seemed to me like a fairly normal day with a little fun sprinkled in. I'm just glad that those little sprinkles are all it takes to add up to great fun for my girls.

And with posts like this, who needs Twitter anyway?

What's Everyone in a Twitter About?

So I'm noticing Twitter showing up on more and more blogs these days. Whether people are Twitterpated by it or not, is up for grabs. But I'm thinking to myself, now is this something I want to do? After all, it's summer and every minute I'm online is a minute I'm not hanging out with my kids. Which only works to a certain degree. Then it's time to fully engage.

So what about the whole concept of micro blogging? It certainly has it's place. It might be much easier to throw up a quick 140-character post about what I'm up to. But who wants to know that much? Twitter's selling point is connection with friends and family about what goes on in between blog posts. Do you really want to know? I mean I can tell you now that I eat, sleep, cook, do laundry, write a little, cook, do laundry and so on.

I'm thinking it's best at a social interface level. So far I've only seen a few bloggers using Twitter and few in my "inner circle" of blogging friends. Until more of those sign up I think I'm off the hook. But it's gaining popularity and it may be only a matter of time whether I seriously "Twitter" (or "Plurk")... or not.

Any thoughts on Twitter?

Take The Challenge!

This summer I'm implementing a plan I learned at a workshop at the Hearts at Home national moms' conference this year. It's called the "Super Summer Challenge" and the idea comes from Linda Wicks and what she learned from Sanity in the Summertime by Linda Dillow & Claudia Arp. Here's how it is working for our family:

Each child has a list of challenges related to things we would like to see them work on. For LMH it includes practicing flute for 20 minutes, moving up to the next swim level, celebrating someone else's success, journaling about her daily bible reading, making dessert and writing a letter. These and other challenges fall under one of four categories: Physical, Mental, Spiritual, and Caring/Sharing. Each challenge earns points (more for tougher, less for easier/favorite items).

My kids each need to earn a certain amount for us to take a weekly fun outing. And for every 20 points they earn they get a dollar. Then we have a long-term goal of a certain number of points for the summer after which we will take a big outing (American Girl Place, where we'll do something extra special like get photos done in the studio or eat lunch/tea in the Cafe).

The point is to get our kids trying new things and improving at old things. And the benefit is any time they need something to do they simply refer to the Challenge Chart. No more saying, "Mom, I'm Bored".

Need more boredom busters? Check out the links on Rocks in My Dryer's Works For Me "Mom, I'm Bored" Edition.

Random Meme

Last week Llama Momma tagged me with a "6 Random Things" meme. And since I'm feeling a bit random today, I thought I'd answer it. So here you have six random things about me:

1. The first rock concert I saw was Kool & the Gang. My dad was kind enough to take my best friend and I. His hearing has never been the same.

2. Prior to that I'd been to multiple folk concerts. I remember being so bored sitting through those with my parents - mainly a series held at the YMCA. These days I actually choose to listen to folk music. So something must have worked!

3. I sew one Halloween costume each year. I have three daughters, but only one gets a new homemade one. The others either have to shop our costume closet or convince me to get one at the store (that isn't totally cheapy-cheapy).

4. I wear long underwear from October to April (or May, depending on the weather. Last week I was actually wearing my fleece lined jeans for the third grade field day outdoors at school - and I needed them).

5. I played the flute for nearly ten years before taking private lessons. Today LMH starts learning to play on that very same flute. If she sticks with it we won't make her wait quite that long to get private lessons.

6. I have never been out West besides a ski trip to Colorado and a few visits to California. One of these years we'll take the kids so I can see what I've been missing.

There ya have it. I'm not tagging anyone, but if you feel so led to do this meme - then consider yourself tagged.

Shairing

When I was in high school one of my close friends had Alopecia, a disorder that causes the hair follicles to just shut down. It wasn't something she talked about, even to me. And I only remember one time where her mother took me aside and referred to it rather obliquely. Consequently I didn't have a clue about why my friend's hair was seeming to thin more and more.

Some kids made fun of her hair - not to her face, that I know of. But this specter of being somewhat outcast hung around her. I wish there was more that I could have done. I wish I had known what it was about. Instead I did all I knew to do - I kept being her friend.

Those thoughts filled my mind last night as I sat in a salon watching Little Miss History get her long hair cut off. She donated it to Locks of Love so that some young girl, like my friend, wouldn't have to face the jeers and rejection brought on by a disorder for which there is no cure. I am proud of LMH. After a moment of shock at seeing how short it left her hair, she vowed to go back to growing it to donate a second time.

Here's a visual of what LMH did:

Before: A fish tail braid for our Memorial Day BBQ.

After: a new 'do!

I am so thankful for Locks of Love and the great work they do. Oh, and that friend of mine? She's a beautiful, confident mom of two...who happens to wear a wig.

Wardrobe Malfunction

Warm weather has FINALLY arrived in Chicago. I've been gearing up for it the past couple of weeks - gearing up in the literal sense of plotting out my three girls' clothing for the next season. Mind you, this is no small undertaking.

First there's all the trying on of last year's stuff (because they need to be convinced that their favorite t-shirt/dress/pair of shorts definitely does not work anymore. That's followed by all the shifting from closet to crawl space and retrieval from crawl space to closet. Hand-me-downs are great, except for all the work it takes to store them and then find them again later.

And then there's the big trip to Kohl's with (hopefully) our extra 15-20-30% off coupon. And a trip to Target for whatever we missed at Kohl's. Plus maybe a Gap run and... Let's just say it's a lot more shopping than I ever care to do at one time. But you do what ya gotta do.

So we completed that whole process this week (for the most part). And today when the hot weather arrived, I was one satisfied mom, smug in the knowledge that I'd made the transition in time...until I went into my own closet. I must say that we seemed to have had a particularly hot and humid winter because all my clothes seem to have shrunk. Especially my shorts and capris, along with a skirt or two, which don't seem to be working that well for me any more. But I am determined that the wardrobe shift is done. There will be no more shopping trips or digging in the crawl space. There is only one solution for me.

Must...fit...into...shorts...

Lazy Days?

There's something wrong with staying in bed until 6:30am and calling it "sleeping in". But try telling that to my husband.

Now it's nearly 8am. I've had breakfast and gotten dressed. Time to hurry off to Home Depot and beat the rush of weekend gardeners to get my annuals.

Maybe tomorrow I'll be totally decadent and sleep until 7am!

Midnight Comes Too Soon

With her love for all things royal, it's no wonder that the Uber-Princess locked on to this Steven Curtis Chapman song, Cinderella. It's a poignant song about seizing those moments with his daughters before they're all grown and it touches me every time I hear it. And today, learning of the tragic death of his five-year-old princess, Maria Sue, I know I won't ever hear this song again without tears. Join me in praying for the Chapman family as they grieve their loss.

Endings

Our school year will be wrapping up next week. Already. I'm not yet prepared for the summer schedule, but I'm getting excited for it to be here. The Musing Family is going to have some fun. We're going to learn some new things, see some new things, and spend a lot of time enjoying old, familiar things.

Today, however, marks the beginning of another end. As of next Sunday I will no longer be coordinating our church nursery. I've begun completing some final tasks and handing off materials and duties. Today I sent out my final team email and I'll attend one last meeting.

Two years ago I stepped up to take the position of nursery coordinator. Little did I know what the job would entail. I enjoyed teaching the two-year-olds. I appreciated the care my daughter had received in the nursery. And I had a vision of what could be for that part of our church. But nobody warned me of the stresses of the job: recruiting a team for one of the least thankful roles (changing diapers? No thanks!); scheduling and staffing when the number of kids is increasing and the number of available adults is shrinking; watching parents arrive with their kids on Easter Sunday when the only volunteers that you have to work with are your own children.

There have been the joys too: seeing a child run into their classroom because they're so excited to be there (that would be a two-year-old, NOT a baby), watching a weary mom heave a great sigh of relief as you give her a one-hour break free of charge, listening to your team members get to know each other and connect in different ways.

It's been an interesting ride, this job of coordinating the early childhood wing. If given the choice I'd do it all again. But I'm not sad to pass it along. I'm more than ready. After this I'm going to have some fun - try new things, see new things and enjoy some old familiar things. Summer may not arrive for a week (or three), but my vacation starts this Sunday and I'm packed and ready to go!

Youthful Exhuberance

"I--(put your finger there for a space)--A--M--(finger again)--S--O--(put your finger down)--E--X--C--I--T--E--D--(okay, go down a line)--F--O--R--(finger space)--Y--O--U--(finger down)--T--O--(move down again)--H--A--V--E--(leave room)--A--(now a space)--B--A--B--Y".

I dictated this morning for the Uber-Princess to write a note to her Aunt who announced to her nieces two days ago that she is going to have a baby. Our children aren't great phone conversationalists, so their reactions to her were subdued. But since then the excitement in our house has been palpable. The Uber-Princess's note is accurate.

Actually the Uber-Princess came hopping into the room as soon as I hung up with her aunt. And she proceeded to do a happy dance, complete with a little tune. Then for the rest of the morning/day all conversation revolved around the coming baby.

Uber-Princess:"Will we have to buy diapers for the baby?"

Me:"No, your aunt and uncle will do that?"

Her: "Can we take care of it?"

Me: "I hope so... when it visits."

Her: "Let's buy something for the baby!" (points to every baby related thing we see in the next three stores we enter).

The excitement is understandable, especially with the Uber-Princess. All of her cousins are older than her - WAY older. This will be the first time she can be the older person. So naturally she's excited, not only to hold and cuddle, but also to teach and train. And I'm excited too. It will be lots of fun to welcome a new baby in the family (and not be the one getting up in the night with it).

Now if October 31st would just hurry up and get here!

Sincerely, Mayla

Sincerely, Mayla is Virginia Smith's sequel to her novel, Just As I Am where readers are introduced to quirky, independent Mayla Strong. I wish I'd read that one first, because I get the feeling that knowing the pre-conversion, purple-haired Mayla of Just As I Am would have made me appreciate even more the challenges and changes she goes through in this sequel. Yet Sincerely, Mayla is written well enough to allow it to stand on its own.

Mayla is a single (and unattached) young gal whose life is thrown a curve ball when she loses her office job to her boss's associate-degreed niece...but not without receiving a severance package. At her roommate's suggestion Mayla uses the extra funds and freedom to pay a visit to her estranged grandmother and aunt in Florida. And she leaves behind more than just a job search, but also a stray rabbit that irritates her roommate, an embarrassing crush on her once-oblivious pastor, and a strangely stressed friendship with her gay neighbor. Or at least she thinks she's left these behind. Instead these problems and more find her in Florida.

Mayla is a very real character who handles some of the big issues of our times with both compassion and faith. Yet she also stumbles along and makes mistakes. One of the things I enjoyed most about this book was watching Mayla come to grips with her own sinful habits and seeing her deal with them in ways that are true to life and not holier-than-though or otherwise oversimplified.

The only thing this book could have done differently would have been to make me worry more. There were one or two hints at what the outcomes of some of the problems would be that stood out too much. A "smile playing at the edges of her mouth" after a big fight told me it would all be fine. I didn't want to know that. I would have preferred to worry a bit longer about whether things would be okay.

The grit and quirkiness of Mayla's character propels the story along and makes Sincerely, Mayla an enjoyable book. So put it on your summer reading list. And then hope that Ginny Smith will bring us another episode in Mayla's life. As for me, I'm off to find a copy of Just As I Am.

Coming This Week: Virginia Smith Blog Tour

Later this week I'll be posting a review of Virginia Smith's new book, Sincerely, Mayla. You can check out other reviews of her book by following the blog tour links at her publisher, Kregel Publications.

So stay tuned...

Please Pray for Leslie

A young mom at our church has been having an incredibly tough year. She was diagnosed with cancer last Fall. And every time it seems like she's going to do well, something new has come up to complicate things further. Yesterday there was more bad news.

I've been praying and praying, in every quiet moment of my day. But it has always felt like such a pitiful thing in face of the giant challenges facing her. Today it seems even more so. So I'm asking, will you please, please pray for Leslie. Here is her story, starting almost near the beginning.

Please pray.

Awkward Situations

Newbie. We're all there many times in our lives. And some of those times are more awkward than others. That's when it helps to have the advice of someone who has gone before you, who has more experience. I witnessed two people in the last week go through this in circumstances with which I was totally unfamiliar. I don't know which is worse, being the newbie or watching a newbie and not being able to help. So, in light of these two people's situations in particular, I'd like to learn. Somehow though, I don't think I'm going to learn by firsthand experience. That's where you come in. If you know the answers to these dilemmas, please share.

Awkward Situation #1:
You have a cleaning person in your house. Do you follow them around? Do you work ahead of them picking up and putting away? Or do you retire to your couch with a cup of tea and some bonbons and snuggle up to the remote to watch daytime tv?

Awkward Situation #2:
You're spending a day at a spa. What do you wear to get there? Do you really wear those foam flip-flops to drive home? Should you try to make conversation with the nail technician? What about your masseuse?

Clearly I am not going to be struggling with any of these issues any time in the near future. But I hope I have friends who will. And wouldn't it be nice to be able to tell them that "I'm pretty sure you shouldn't chat on your cell phone while getting a facial"?

Thanks for your help.

Works For Me - Birthday Party Games

Each year we host our children's parties at home. It's old-fashioned maybe, but I've never been able to justify spending $100 and up to have someone else do it for me...until this year. I finally decided that I was getting tired of all the work of planning and organizing games. So I offered to my girls that they could have the option of going somewhere like the bowling alley or Pump It Up (inflatables place). They would have none of that! They wanted a party at home. So it was back to planning and organizing.

But two things happened this year for Little Miss History's ninth birthday that made it a walk in the park for her dad and I. Number 1: she planned it all - at least the order and timing of things. Number 2 - her dad found a great website of party games.

We actually had fun just reading through the University of Illinois Extension's list. It brought back great memories of when we were at the University of Illinois and spent Friday evenings with our InterVarsity group playing a lot of these games. Have you ever heard of King Elephant? Instructions are there. How about Wink'um or Honey, I Love You? They've got those too. And there's an Orange game on there, using an orange and pantyhose, that I've never played but it sounds hilarious. There are other tips on this site, but unless you're hosting teen/preteen parties, you probably won't need them.

So armed with a handful of games from the site and her trusty schedule, LMH pretty much ran her own party while her dad and I chatted in the kitchen (okay, I ran the craft and he helped with games...but it was nothing near the work we'd done in years past). I'd say it Works For Me.

For other Works For Me Wednesday posts, head on over to Rocks in My Dryer today and check out the list.

Half Way

Little Miss History turns nine today. Maybe that number doesn't seem so momentous. It's not a decade, like ten. Or new teen, like thirteen. But to me it marks a big point in my journey as her parent. We have hit the half way mark. In nine more years she'll be preparing to graduate from high school and head off on her own, hopefully to college, definitely into adulthood.

So I've been cataloging and calculating:almost 10,000 meals fed to this child and close to that many nightly tuck-ins. I've bathed and dressed and diapered her countless times. She's learned to sleep through the night, eat big people food, walk, talk, skip, do the monkey bars, jump rope. She knows her ABC's and 123's and the length of her small intestines. She can read (and does so voraciously) and write. She makes her bed and her lunch and her sisters mad. She's learned the importance of kindness, respect, honesty, forgiveness.

And there's where I see the bend in the road. She has learned the practical things of life, how to count by two's and tie her shoes. Now more and more will the lessons of these second set of nine be those of the heart, shaping her morals and values. We've given her many of those foundations, but she'll begin now deciding whether to use them. And even though I'll still be here to teach and correct, it will depend even more on what I model, however imperfectly I do that.

It inspires prayer, age nine. It was hard work, physically, to get her this far. To finish well will require hard work emotionally. Am I ready?

We Need a Dog!

"Come on, Wiggles. Let's go for a ride!" Timid Daughter climbed on her bike after gently placing Wiggles into the pouch on the front of her bike.

Wiggles is her new pet. Wiggles goes for rides on her bike, climbs trees with her and generally hangs out. He has a comfy home she's make for him in a plastic container with holes in the lid, dirt and grass in the bottom and a handle for portability. Wiggles is your garden variety pet, but that doesn't mean he's typical. He's anything but typical.

That's because Wiggles is a worm.

The other day my kids offered to help me in the garden, with selfish motives. They wanted to dig for worms. So I let them clear out the weeds and keep whatever worm(s) they found. They were ecstatic.

Little Miss History named hers Crackers and was momentarily freaked out during a climb in the tree with him when she'd thought he'd fallen from the tree limb she'd placed him on. I was afraid he'd become bird food. But she found him, safe and sound a few inches from where she'd left him.

The pet worms happily occupied my girls for an entire afternoon. I'm not sure where they are today (hopefully NOT in my house). And I can't help but wonder what the girls will do in a few days when their "pets" have come to the end of their days.

And in all of this the biggest question that comes to mind is: is it time to get a dog?

Culinary Travelogue (NYC)

Okay, I'll admit it, I can't stop thinking about the incredibly delicious chocolate frosted, chocolate buttermilk cupcake I had from Magnolia Bakery on Columbus Avenue. Wow! I'm not a big cupcake fan, except for kid parties where it makes total sense. But Magnolia makes them completely acceptable for big people.

Only problem is, Magnolia Bakery is located in New York City, not Naperville. Which I guess I should see as a blessing. If they were located here I'd be bound to balloon a dozen pounds or so. Regrettably (or not, for the same reason), I only got to try them once, on the last night we were there. Perhaps if I'd known how good they were, I would have at least brought home a dozen - in a box, on my lap, on the plane. It would have been worth it. And I might have even shared them with my family so they could experience the bliss.

I also can't stop wondering if there are any chocolate shops in Naperville that make a good thick, Italian hot chocolate like the one I had at Max Brenner's. It was a dark hot chocolate with steamed milk. As thick and rich as it was when steaming fresh, it only got thicker (and richer) as it cooled. After many sips and much analysis, my mom and I decided the only thing that came close to describing it was that it's like drinking chocolate pudding. Really delicious chocolate pudding.

Like Magnolia Bakery, there is no Max Brenner's here. But we do have Ethel's Chocolate Lounge. And something tells me there was a new chocolate place that just opened downtown. But do I dare go there to see if they make Italian hot chocolate? Could my waistline survive it?

My sweet tooth is not so fierce as this post would make it seem. My experience with sweets in New York City was just that over-the-top good. Oh, and the Thai food was good (albeit hot enough to fry off my tongue even though I'd asked for a milder version), the seafood was excellent and the bagels unbeatable. New York style pizza though? I just don't get it. The whole folding it in half to eat it and all. We had mediocre pizza (my fault for getting my sister to try a place close to her apartment). It was floppy and overloaded with toppings. Give me Chicago style - thick crust or deep dish. And I'll take an Italian hot chocolate with that and a Magnolia's cupcake for dessert.

Travelogue-NYC

We are having fun here in New York City. I'm not sure how many miles these feet have logged, but we've been seeing quite a bit.

A few observations about New York from a Chicagoan:
-garbage on the curb. Took me a day or so to figure out that without alleys behind the buildings, the only place to put the garbage is the curb. It's not that bad, but it makes me appreciate how clean Chicago looks.
-no bums or panhandlers. Where are the homeless folks? In Chicago, as soon as you step off the train at Union Station you're greeted by people asking for money. And just about every street you go down, you'll see at least one or two. I think I've seen one in the past three days. Makes walking around here feel more relaxing and less interrupted.
-public transportation here is excellent. We've ridden in a cab a few times only because my sister was tired of the subway. It's fast, clean and gets you around everywhere.
-the hustle and bustle is so exciting, invigorating even. The streets (sidewalks) are full of people, but it rarely feels crowded.
-very tourist-friendly. I've never hesitated to stop and take a picture. There are always people doing that, practically everywhere. I was surprised at how much picture-snapping was going on in SoHo. In Chicago we always notice the tourists, because they're staring upward and they're around in bunches. New York? Tourists make up a decent portion of the public.
-celebrity sightings. They're rare in Chicago. But in New York it seems like it's just a matter of keeping your eyes open. Now I don't watch much TV or see many movies, so chances are I could be standing shoulder to shoulder with a celebrity and not know it. My sister was the one who noticed Hilda from Trading Spaces while we were in SoHo yesterday.

Any New Yorkers care to give their take on Chicago?

I Love Public Transportation

I just wish there was more of it available here in the suburbs. If I wanted to, I could get into and all around the city of Chicago by simply walking across the street and hopping on public transportation. But to get to the grocery store or the doctor or the library I have to drive or ride a bike, or walk.

I'm thinking of this now because of a trip my girls and I took into Chicago last week during Spring Break. I had asked what they wanted to do over break and they listed four things, two of them being "go to American Girl Place" and "ride the train". So I combined those into one trip.

We had a blast! We got on the train by their grandma's house and rode into Union Station. From there I had found a bus to take us up to American Girl. I was a little nervous about navigating the bus and all with three kids. But we did some prep talks beforehand and everybody was set. On the return trip on the bus I stopped to pay our fare and when I turned to my kids they were already seated at the very back of the bus as if they'd done it every day of their lives.

When our day was over, I asked what their favorite part had been. The answer? The bus and the train! They had enjoyed the adventure as much as I had. I felt so energized and empowered by the fact that we'd made the trip without incident. Pretty goofy, huh? Shows how sheltered this suburban mom's life is.

Question is, am I up for the big time now? I'm traveling to New York City tomorrow for a girls' weekend with my mom and sister. And since sis lives in Manhattan, we'll be doing the public transportation thing all weekend. Woo hoo! Bring it on, I say!

Now if I could just find a way to ditch the minivan once I get back home!

Fun For a Gray Day

It's dreary outside and too quiet in. Our houseguests departed this morning after six days with us and it's noticeably different in our house. Not that they were noisy, but I notice their absence after having them here for that amount of time. And given that our doggy houseguest arrived just before they did and also left today, it is a bit of an adjustment.

So what to do on this rainy day in March when we're on Spring break? Well, following the headline news in our local paper today, we're searching for report cards and hoping for a break in the weather to cash in on the girls' good grades (maybe breakfast at Wendy's tomorrow).

Spaghetti Sauce & Chocolate Milk & Red Jello - Oh My!

The other night one of my daughters got spaghetti sauce on one of her favorite shirts. She immediately began to cry. And it's all my fault. You see, I'm terrible at laundry. I make sure to sort darks, lights (I call them mediums, as in pink, and in our house they make up the bulk of our laundry) and whites. I also sort them into warm and cold, which baffles my husband, but it's what the tags say so I do it. And I search for stains and dutifully spray treat them.

But half of those stains never come out. Even if I scrub the stain spray in, no matter what brand, the stains stick. Chocolate for instance, particularly chocolate milk: that never, ever comes all the way out. Nor does red spaghetti sauce. Or mud. Sometimes even red jello leaves behind it's mark.

Which makes dinnertime a stressor for my kids. I'm thinking I should just designate "eating clothes" for everyone and let them enjoy meals again. I try not to moan or gripe or harangue them (although chocolate milk spills nearly send me over the edge every time). But they know my lack of laundering ability. When they slop on a treasured piece of clothing, they're aware it may be that way forever.

It makes me feel like a bad mom. After all, what are my primary duties? Feeding and clothing my family. Cuddling and reading. And when I can't properly perform one of those jobs, well it just makes me feel bad.

So I'm making an apeal: just what on earth does it take to get chocolate milk out of a shirt? Any hints? Any?

A Long, Hard Day

Today it has been tough going. I woke up in pain from my right shoulder (the one I injured two years ago). This happens to me from time to time. It starts as a stinging ache and builds to a burning background roar. From past experience I know it will continue all day. Maybe it will travel to my other shoulder. Probably it will go into my wrists. I can still move, still talk, still do everything like normal, but slower and more haltingly.

On days like today I start off with an Advil. But like today, it usually doesn't help. So I take another a little bit later. And often still other until the pain is dulled to a whisper. I don't go to the doctor. What will she say? "Take an Advil", probably. There's nothing actually wrong with me. The pain will be gone tomorrow or maybe the next day. But for today it's here, distracting me. Occasionally I will forget about it and then wonder why I am on the verge of tears. All day I am on the verge of tears.

It's so tiring too. And it's hard not to get snippy or short with my children. I haven't today and I'm glad for that. Of course they'll be home soon. And there's a chance I'll get that way then, although I always hope not, always try not.

The pain makes me think of other people I know. People with real illness, real disease, real pain. A friend with rheumatoid arthritis comes to mind and I pray for her, glad that she has medicine that helps her condition. My fingers go cold and then numb from pain shooting down my arm and I think of someone from church battling a crippling, life-threatening disease. I pray for him, for healing, for mobility.

It's a hard day, a tiring day. I'll be glad for tomorrow. I'll be glad for the chance to wake up pain free. But I'm also glad for the chance to learn a little more compassion, to see a glimmer of what others go through day after day, to pray a heartfelt prayer for healing and comfort on someone else's behalf. It's a hard day, but not a wasted day. And when the next day of pain comes for me I hope that it will be profitable too.

"Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." Romans 5:3-5

Schools' Rules Schmools

Today was kindergarten round-up...for the Uber-Princess's friends; not for her. And I feel like it was one of those days of no turning back. You see, her birthday is 9 days after the official cut-off. So she must spend another year in preschool (or at home) and wait to be five the day she starts kindergarten. This shouldn't bother me. Many moms of July and August babies fret over them being the youngest in their class and the challenges that brings. The Uber-Princess won't have those problems. However, I anticipate other problems, like, say...boredom.

Here's an example from today of why I worry about this. As I was tucking her into bed for her nap she was commenting on being four-and-a-half (we marked this milestone about a week and a half ago with the ditching of her blankie, because "four-and-a-half-year-olds are big girls"). Then she announced that she could count to four and a half.

To which I replied, "really?"

So she demonstrated. "One, one-and-a-half, two, two-and-a-half, three, three-and-a-half, four, four-and-a-half!"

Need I worry?

Oh, and right before that she was working with our magnetic fridge letters, trying to find the one that says "whuh" as in "Wildcats". Now we have a Fridge Phonics toy that lets you insert the letters and says the sound they make aloud. So she inserted a few until she got to "W". But the fact that a four-and-a-half-year-old cares to learn the letter that starts "Wildcats"? And yesterday she counted to 112, with a few prompts. Need I worry?

I realize kindergarten readiness is composed of more than just academics. So let's see: she dresses herself, feeds herself, separates easily from mom, plays well independently, plays well with others... Now, I don't think she's overly brilliant. Sharp? Yes. Bright? Yes. On target to join other kids the age she'll be nine days after the cutoff? Definitely.

I've been told though, that the rules are the rules. No exceptions are made. No testing will be allowed, no looking at individual cases. So I quickly dropped my thoughts of championing her "early" admittance. And today another door was closed.

God has it all under His control. My daughter's birthday was decided long ago. And God knew the rules of the school she'd be attending. I will enjoy, truly enjoy this extra year with her at home more. I just hope she enjoys the year(s) following that.

Passion Week Meditation: Betrayed

My children and I are reading day by day the story of the week that Jesus went to the cross. Today we read about Judas being paid off to betray Jesus. On my own I'm reading meditations on the Stations of the Cross and started with number one this morning: the Garden of Gethsemane, which ends with the arrival of Judas to betray Jesus into the hands of His killers.

I went through my morning routine with those thoughts on my mind and it brought me back to a time in eighth grade when my best friend betrayed me. Here's how it went. We were at a "boy-girl" party, the kind where the entire class is invited (and shows up). The kind where some kids hang out playing pool or cards or something like that. By eighth grade the match-ups were going strong. This one was "going out with" that one, although it didn't seem like they ever actually went anywhere. It was more of an identity thing, a bit of prestige, depending on who you were paired up with.

My "best friend" took me off to the side during this party and asked me who I liked. Now, I was no dummy. She'd shown herself to be less than trust-worthy before. I was not about to reveal my true crush. So I named a boy in the class that I could care less about, that was currently "dating" a girl I couldn't stand. What could my friend do with that information? And what did I care?

Sure enough my friend scooted away a short time later and returned with the-girl-I-couldn't-stand. "You like Danny?", she asked. Then she continued, not waiting for my response, "well we're not going out any more. And I think he likes you too. He wants to ask you out. He's in the other room, waiting". She gave me a sly smile. My friend stood behind her looking as though she'd swallowed the Cheshire Cat. I rolled my eyes and played along.

I don't remember what happened after that. But I do remember coming out of the situation more triumphant than not. I'd known the betrayal was coming and so I'd been able to script it. Most of the sting was gone. Yet knowing I'd been chosen as the object of junior high trickery still hurt. To have a "friend" who'd behave so callously? It made me angry...and sad.

I wonder about Jesus. He knew, long beforehand, that Judas would betray Him. Yet He let Judas into His circle of friends. He acted on trust toward him. And I'd almost say that He scripted His betrayal too. But the scene in the Garden beforehand shows otherwise. It was His Father's plan and it grieved Him to know how it would go. But He chose to follow it through. His betrayal, even though He knew it was coming, hurt. It hurt a lot. It was part His being fully human.

As we approach Good Friday and then Easter, remember this: we have a Savior who knows the hurt we feel because He has felt it Himself. Even more, think of His love that He knew everything He would endure and still did it - for us!

Getting it right ... again

(Overheard today in the Musing Household)

Little Miss History to Uber-Princess: Do you want to be a teacher when you grow up?

Uber-Princess: No. I want to be a princess. (surprise, surprise!)

LMH to Timid Daughter: Do you want to be a teacher?

Timid Daughter: No!

LMH: Well, what do you want to be?

TD: I want to be a mom!

LMH: Well, I want to be a teacher. (Stops to think for a moment).
A teacher AND a writer AND a mom.

Uber-Princess: I want to be a princess and a mom!


All I can say is, it warms my heart. They all want my job!

Getting it right...maybe

Parenting at times seems so much like a bunch of guesswork. Sure, we've taken classes and formulated our ideas of how we want to parent (allow little or no tv but lots of reading, be involved in their school & sports, encourage good behavior, correct for bad...). But more often than not we find ourselves in that grey area (tv during illness? is tattling always "bad"?). And so it seems hard to gauge whether we're doing a good job or not as parents. "You're the best mom in the whole wide world" lets me know what my kids think (and oh, am I so very grateful to hear those words because they often come when I feel less-than-deserving). And compliments from strangers when we're out in public seem to second that. But...

There's all the day to day in's and out's. It's having to do the job of counselor, mediator, accountant, boss, and nurse, without any qualifications for any of them, that I get hung up on. Many times my husband looks at a situation ('cuz many times that's what we have in our house - "situations") and has a different take. Which makes me glad for a partner in this, but also makes me wonder about all the decisions I make (and possibly screw up) while he's gone.

Today though. Today I got something right. You see, yesterday and today our Timid Daughter awoke with pain in her calves. And yesterday she managed to hobble off to school. But this morning she crawled to my room to ask for help because it was too painful to even stand. So I trundled her back to bed with some ibuprofen, then later woke her for breakfast (and carried her down to it) and afterwards put her in a warm bath. After calling her in sick at school I got a heating pad going under her legs while we waited to hear from the pediatrician. Thankfully the pediatrician saw us right away. The diagnosis: myositis (inflamation of the muscles) caused by a virus she had over the weekend. And the blessed doctor prescribed (get this): ibuprofen three times a day, warm baths, and heat applications to her legs.

In my mind I was pumping my arms up and down saying, "Yes! Yes!". For once my instincts proved right. So do you think I'll trust myself any better when the next dilemma comes in...oh, a couple of hours?

My Really Interesting situation

I squeeze my eyes closed, arms crossed over my chest as I'm propelled into the machine. Air blows across my body and I attempt to slow my breathing by sucking in large gulps. I am trapped. Thick tape binds my feet together and my hips are strapped down to the table on which I lay. And now, inside this small tube of a tunnel, I can barely move my arms. I lay there, keeping still. If I can just do that long enough... A voice, tiny and distant echoes into the tube, "Can you hear me?". I answer back that I can. Then there is silence.

Back to my breathing. I notice it too much. It's too fast, too hard. So I try to slow it down again. But it just gets harder the more I notice it. Think on something else, I tell myself. Then the voice issues a warning and the loud noises begin. Very loud. First a few pops, then a series of clangs and bangs, more and more of them, some faster, some slower. There are plugs in my ears, but that doesn't matter. It's still loud. My thoughts jump around. Breathing too fast. Don't open eyes. Don't move. Too small. Too tight. I'm trapped. I swallow hard and suddenly my throat feels scratchy. On the right side. It itches more. And then more. I swallow, trying to sooth that itch. I swallow again. Then as the banging stops I begin to cough and to choke. The voice comes again, "Are you okay?". I answer with more coughs. "I'll bring you water", the voice responds.

Moments later the table shifts and I glide out of the tunnel, opening my eyes to see the gentle smile of the technician and then the bottle of water in her hands. I sit up as much as I can and take a few gulps. Then I lay back again and close my eyes as the table glides me back into place. There will be more loud noises, pops and hisses. This time my breathing will settle and my mind will gain focus for the time that remains. No more coughs, no more itches. Just vibrations and strange sounds. Just the passing of time in slow motion, where fifteen minutes feels like hours.

A Lite Brite Life

My children were playing with their Lite Bright the other day. It was fun to see them working so seriously at it. It reminded me of when I was a kid...until the Uber-Princess asked me to help. Thanks to upgrades to the modern version, I was able to help her complete it in the fraction of time it used to take. How is that? Cheater pegs! They now make the pegs fused together in groups of two's, three's & four's. So when you can pop them in four at a time, imagine how much faster it can go (and believe me, I made heavy use of those ones on Uber-Princess's design).

Afterward I began thinking about the Lite Brite and how it works. You start with a blank sheet, or maybe one with some lettered spots. Slowly you piece in the colored pegs and a shape begins to form. Yet even with all the pegs in place, while you can see the shape, the actual figure is still dull. But plug it in and let the light shine through and all sorts of details and dimensions come out.

Aren't we like that as people? We're born, albeit not blank sheets, but with a design imprinted on us by God that has no color or shape yet. Then we begin to live and one by one opportunities and circumstances begin to fill in our outline. Over the years our shape becomes recognizable, but perhaps still somewhat undefined. Then one day we find ourselves doing and being what we were made to be. Suddenly God's light shines through us and we're made aware of all the brilliance of color and subtlety of substance that makes us who we are!

Those cheater pegs? I think we have those in life too. Maybe they're shortcuts we take toward our life goals. Or maybe on the positive side they're people who have believed in us and invested in helping us grow.

What do you think?

WFMW: Alternative Cleaning Solutions

Today I ran low on my regular bathroom cleaning spray. As I stood staring at my other cleaning supplies, a thought occurred to me: why not put all the left-over glass-cleaner to use? You see a few years ago I started using micro-fiber cloths to clean my windows and mirrors. They work very well and eliminate the need for any chemicals. So my industrial-sized glass cleaner has languished in the cabinet ever since. However, necessity being the mother of invention that it is, I read the suggested uses for the window spray and low and behold it listed counters. Off to my bathroom I went with the window cleaner. And here I am a few minutes later to tell you - it worked! Which has me thrilled because I now have a means for using up all that cleaning solution that I hadn't the heart to throw out.

Another good alternative cleaner for bathrooms? Shampoo! I had gotten an off-brand shampoo in a gift basket once and never liked what it did to my hair. It has stayed in my shower, but now I use it for wiping down the shower walls. Hey, it's a soap and it gets things clean.

So next time you've got a cleaning solution whose original purpose no longer fits your needs, repurpose it. Remember it's just a marketing thing with the manufacturers where they position their cleaner to be used for a single function.

It's a different kind of "recycling". And it Works For Me!

You've Got Mail

I got the idea for these cute mailboxes from Jenn's Stamping' Corner. Can't say mine turned out as cute as hers, but since the Musing girls haven't seen hers, they won't care. And I tell you what, it's a good, but cheap Valentine's gift. A buck for the mailbox, less than that for paper, find a few embellishments in the scrap bin and you're all set.

A quick tip: do not try to seal with acrylic spray. It just soaks through the paper. Jenn's idea to use Mod Podge is probably the best route to go.

Then you just tuck a love note inside (or a coupon for a free Krispy Kreme donut, like I did - yum!) and you're all set. I know my girls will be thrilled because a) they love to play post office and have resorted to making do with flimsy paper mailboxes and b) these mailboxes are "American Girl doll"-sized and anything on that scale is a hit with them.

I Think I'm Starting to Understand Archaeologists

I cleaned out the bottom of my closet today. It had been much neglected since I'd done a wardrobe overhaul in it last April. Things were strewn about:shoes, boots, purses, beach balls (three), sunscreen, board games, and more. So I rounded up Uber-Princess to go on a dig with me. We pulled and hauled and tossed until the floor was empty on one side. Then I ran the vacuum and we sorted through what would go back. Simple enough. Not an eventful dig, but thorough and...done.

Then we turned to side two. This one didn't seem so bad. How could it be with a wedding gown box taking up over half of the real estate? Simply a few pairs of boots and a pile of magazines to dig out. So dig we did. And that's when the discovery happened! Sifting through the pile of magazines I came across a library book that had long been given up for lost. I turned to the Uber-Princess, holding the book triumphantly in the air.

"Look what I found!", I said.

"The Lion King!", she exclaimed and took the book from my hand, threaded her way through the debris to an empty spot in the room and sat down to read.

I was a little disappointed that the celebration was so short-lived, but I went back to the magazines...and found a SECOND missing library book!

"Woo hoo!", I hollered.

The Uber-Princess didn't even look up. So I tossed the book in her direction, figuring she'd devour it next and with another joy-hop, went back to my cleaning.

The magazines have been recycled and the closet put back to rights again. The books will go back to the library (which had graciously overlooked their misplacement) this afternoon. All that's left of that fortuitous project is the question: just HOW did those books get into that pile anyway?).

"Bummer"

I still remember trying to help my Russian friend, Dmitry, understand the slang term "bummer". He spent a lot of time hanging around us Americans and I suspect part of it was to glean some American idioms from us. In Moscow the English that is taught is purely British (they live in "flats" and take the "lift" to get to them, among other things). At some point though, he'd heard someone use the word bummer, but didn't get it's meaning, so he pressed me.

I don't remember quite how I answered him then, but if he were here today I might answer something like this:

Bummer: getting a rejection letter from a magazine that you submitted to six months ago? No, that's good news. It means you mattered enough to get a response.

Bummer: losing your glasses/sunglasses (again!)? Sort of, but not so much so if your vision coverage allows for a new pair this year (phew!).

Bummer: forgetting to thaw the meatloaf for dinner and resorting to chicken patty sandwiches instead? Naw. The meatloaf can wait.

Being this guy today?



Now THAT'S a bummer!

A Little Mid-Week Fun

I've been having fun playing my husband's new PS2 game: Guitar Hero Rocks the 80's. And while I'm not a superstar yet, I've managed to move up from Easy to Medium in the last month. Beast Mom & the Battered Ham posted something that has me thinking I should start planning my career in a rock band. I've dreamed up a band name and a cover for our first album. What do you think?


(cover photo by Mônica Fadul)

Wanna try it for yourself? Here's how it works:
1. The first title on this page is the name of your band.
2. The last four words of the very last quote is the title of your album. Click the "New Random Quotations" button for more.
3. The third picture on this page will be your album cover. You then take the photo and add your band name and the album title to it, then post your picture. Please don't forget to give credit.

Not What It Seems

I took the Uber-Princess out to play in our back yard the other day. We were out there a half hour or so. The snow was too fluffy to build a snowman or snow fort, but we did get some good angels. Since then the temperatures have dropped horribly. Our days have started off sub-zero and gotten barely warmer. But the sun has been shining, making it look deceptively beautiful out there.

A good metaphor that makes. We go around all the time in our culture looking happy, satisfied. The common question of "how are you doing" is really just a waste of breath most of the time. We all answer "fine" all the time. But truth is, nobody is fine all the time. We're just too hesitant to be vulnerable enough to say "not so good".

I find myself wishing I could do more for others, to help in a constructive way. But I'm not creative enough to be able to think of what would be good. I don't pick up on the subtle clues the way some people can (Llama Momma, I'm thinking of you here). And the whole facade of being fine doesn't help me. I like the times when people open up and share what's really going on. Then I feel like there is some way I can be there for them, whether it is by simply praying or by coming alongside them in their troubles and actively helping carry the burden by making a meal, taking a kid to play, picking up groceries.

But as unwillingly flawed human beings we're reluctant to let on how we really are. We're afraid the reaction will be like what mine is on those deceptively sunny days. I might open the door and step outside, but when I find how frigid it is, I quickly shut the door and stay inside. If that is our reaction when people open up - to quickly shut out their pain or trouble, then no wonder the sunny facade stays up. I just hope I don't react that way. And I hope to continue to learn how to encourage others to be real.

I'm not sure if I've made any real points here. Just pondering...musing if you will. I don't do that often enough these days and I apologize for the frequent lapse in posts. Thanks for hanging in there with me. Maybe your comments can help me crystalize my analogy a little better.

Books, Books, Books

Jenn with 2n's tagged me to do this meme and since I love books I'm happy to play along.

1. One book that changed your life.
The Bible. 'nuf said.

2. One book that you have read more than once.
Chronicles of Narnia-the whole series. As a family we've been through the series at least once (we pretty much read it continually, although not daily) and I read it several times as a kid.

3. One book you would want on a desert island.
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling. I just finished book five and while it would be nice to have both books six and seven with me, I'll settle for just number seven. It would take a long while to read and I'm itching to know how it all ends.

4. Two books that made you laugh.
Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott
Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller

5. One book that made you cry.
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. It is an excellent, excellent book. If you haven't read it - do!

6. One book you wish you'd written.
If You Give A Pig a Pancake by Laura Numeroff. Great concept that is well executed. Kids love to read it and parents too!

7. One book you wish had never been written.
The Road by Cormac McCarthy - it haunts me and plays on my apocolyptic fears. I've had nightmares off and on since I read it, most recently for the past two nights. It was an incredible book, so maybe it's not that I wish it had never been written, but that I had never read it.

8. Two books you are currently reading.
Pop!: Stand Out in Any Crowd by Sam Horn. Good for speakers, writers and marketing. Gives simple processes for coming up with clever titles.

The Suburban Christian by Albert Hsu. I've had this on my nightstand for a while and recently begun reading it in earnest. I'm particularly enjoying his references to local places because those are places local to me, I know these places. Which, if you've read his book, might be a bit ironic.

9. One book you've been meaning to read.
The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

10. Five people that I tag (okay, I've only got four):
Wilyhacker
The Battered Ham
Llama Momma
Michelle Gregory

Humbling: When Your Ego Takes a Tumbling

"Oh, Lord, it's hard to be humble when you're perfect in every way". I used to sing that song at the top of my lungs as a child, a crooked lilt to the words. And I remember my parents laughing at me when I did. But truth is, I often lived my life as if I believed it.

Then yesterday I learned a lesson in humility, thankfully in the privacy of my own head. I'd been getting bummed about my abilities as a writer and a speaker. Reading through writer's group threads and blogs by professionals in the field of publishing and speaking, I'd come to the realization that I was one of those relative "newbies" that they were all describing. After all, I have only one book to my credit and a handful of magazine articles. Sure I've attended a half dozen writing conferences and I've been "writing" since I was six. But a "professional" writer that does not make. As much as I hope it might, it doesn't. I was reading these posts to learn more about the industry and what I learned most is that I have a lot to learn. It made me depressed.

But in the moments of quiet, before I went to sleep I began to contemplate reality: I really do have a lot to learn. I am a "newbie" in many senses. And that was humbling. Yet in the midst of that humbling, my depression disappeared. I was glad to know that I don't have it all together yet. It was good to realize how much I have to learn without making a fool of myself in the process. It was freeing to start my day today knowing that my efforts now will hopefully be outdone by what I do next year as I learn more.

Being at (or near) the bottom of the heap isn't a bad thing. It's just a starting point.

Proverbs 15:33 "The fear of the Lord teaches a man wisdom, and humility comes before honor."

Domestic Diva I am NOT

Yesterday things were humming along the Musing household. I'd been up early, had a quiet time, exercised and ran a several errands before picking Uber-Princess up from preschool. Ah yes, the items on my list were being checked off at a feverish pace and I was feelin' mighty good.

Then it came to my attention that the comforter in my guest room needed to be laundered. So I stripped it off and took it to my laundry room, smug as could be about this task that I'd soon be checking off my list as well. Loading the comforter into my Super Large Capacity washing machine, I found myself pushing and shoving at the piles of fluffiness. I'd always washed the queen-sized comforter off my own bed in the machine, but it hadn't ever been such a chore to get it in. Still, the lid closed and I went off to do the next chore on the list, making a mental note to check on the washing machine part-way through the load.

I forgot. Or nearly so. I jumped up during the spin cycle, wondering if the large load might throw it off kilter. And as I burst into the laundry room, a splash went up from the floor where two rivulets of water were streaming toward the wall. I stopped the machine and dashed to the basement. More water. Not lots mind you, but a puddle of some size.

And so commenced the mopping and drying. When I called my husband to check on the proper process for drying out a partially flooded laundry room I gave him the good news first: the floor had never been cleaner under the washing machine since we moved into our house. Thankfully the water was contained to a small area of the basement and things were dry relatively fast.

Well, the weather man called it pretty well yesterday morning: high potential for possible flooding. I just never considered it might occur inside!

Tuscany...someday

I've been searching the past few days for the "perfect" wall calendar. I actually know what the perfect one is and I've used it the past few years. It's the More Time Moms calendar. I love that it is really wide and has big squares with lots of lines for writing appointments. And it has stickers for things like doctor and dentists appointments and "mom's time". Best of all? It's got a pocket in the back for putting all those schedules and school calendars.

Now I saw my perfect calendar in the store before Christmas. But it was full price. I took the gamble and waited until New Year's. Bad move. They were all sold out. So I convinced myself that it was time to branch out and try a different calendar. There are tons of them out there and even a handful made just for "moms". Some of them have stickers. Some of them have pockets. A few even have lines. But none of them are as big or as nice as the More Time Mom's calendar. Unless it's the calendar that same company makes for teens which is identical except for the small pictures and sayings (and maybe the stickers). After taking home a different "mom" calendar and hating it I went back today to try for the teen calendar. It was sold out too.

I finally opted for a regular old wall calendar with photos of Tuscany. I made my own wall pocket to hang underneath. And I have a bunch of stickers still left that I can use. I'll just need to write smaller in the squares. So until the 2009 More Time Mom's calendar comes out in August (which I will get, full price), I'm going to dream of Tuscany. I've always wanted to go there and I'm sure gazing at beautiful landscapes every day will continue to inspire that dream. It won't guarantee a travel date written on any of those pages, but maybe someday...

In Which More Christmas Arrives, Belatedly

On the second evening after Christmas I was lying in bed, trying to fall asleep. Suddenly the thought occurred to me that I hadn't noticed a reaction from Timid Daughter to a certain gift I thought she'd particularly like. Then, being a mom of rather many thoughts, I promptly forgot that idea.

On the third day after Christmas I asked Musing Dad if he'd seen Timid Daughter playing with this particular toy. He had not. But he wondered if in fact, the toy still remained wrapped in the presents hiding spot. I gasped. Certainly it wasn't. It couldn't be. I went to the hiding spot. Deep in the bowels of the secret hiding place I found the toy, still wrapped.

How could this be? I'd done what I'd seen my mother-in-law do on several previous occasions, occasions where I had laughed at her forgetfulness. I'd forgotten a gift! And yet Timid Daughter hadn't noticed, had no reason at all to even consider it. She was content with what she'd received. Yet there was more...withheld. Oh how I berated myself for doing what I'd promised myself I'd never do. And yet there it was, a gift ungiven several days past the Date.

Musing Dad placed the gift prominently near the Christmas tree, in the midst of the detritus of Christmas Past. It wasn't long before Timid Daughter spied the bright wrapping and crept near to read the label.

"For me?" she asked.

I nodded, feeling ever more the rotten mom I suspected myself of being.

"Can I open it yet?" came the next request.

Yet? Yet!? Why would I ever make her wait a moment longer on a gift much delayed. Open child, open now! But we needed to await the presence of her siblings who rattled and clomped noisily in the room to see this oddity. A gift long after Christmas!

It was opened with glee and instigated a whole afternoon of new play. I only recovered from my mistake when I remembered the year that a whole pile of presents for my youngest brother were forgotten by an aunt for at least as long. And as that to me was comedy, I decided perhaps my own small mistake was not so much a tragedy. And perhaps I'm not so alone in neglecting to retrieve all the gifts hidden.

Editorial Note: on the eighth day after Christmas Timid Daughter came to me with a Christmas card she'd made and finally found. Touche, eh?

Post Christmas Gratitude

We had a great Christmas in the Musing House. The uber-princess summed it up best as we drove home on Christmas Eve, "I'm so happy!". We had the opportunity to share the Christmas story from Luke 2 as a family in our church service on Sunday. How special to be able to serve that way together (although there was some consternation on the part of the uber-princess. She remarked to her father as we walked off the stage, mics still hot, "heard and seen, Dad. Not seen and heard". Poor Dad, no one would have known his mistake if it weren't for her).

We also had the great fortune of coming across a living Nativity scene on Christmas Eve. There were even sheep, a donkey and a belching camel. And the sidewalks in one town we drove through were thickly lined with luminaria up and down street after street, a sight more beautiful than any holiday light display because if its simplicity and significance .

Now our house is riddled with the remnants of the Day. Bows and ribbons, packaging, toys. Our family was very fortunate. Me? I'm happy with all the neat things I got. And I'm especially excited about the chance I have to make a difference in other peoples' lives through the Kiva gift certificate I received. If you don't know what I'm talking about, check it out in the sidebar or at www.kiva.org.

The fact that I woke up with the stomach flu the day after Christmas? Not so bad. After all, everything went so well up to that point, who was I to complain. It sure is hard to get back into things now though. I'm glad it's still winter break for the kids. We need more time for playing our new video games and breaking in new Barbie dolls!

A Tribute to Grandma Higgins

I have no baby book, and pictures from my infancy are few and far between, most having perished in an apartment fire when I was very young. But the image that stands out in my mind is a picture of a teeny, tiny me being held by my Grandma Higgins.

Grandma died yesterday at the age of 97. She was a tough and resilient woman who lived for much of her adult life in the same house she raised her children in. I don't know much about her early years, except that she was a farm girl who married a school teacher and had five children. And she was an excellent seamstress, a skill she passed along to my mother, who in turn taught me.

What I know most of my grandmother comes from being her granddaughter - and a far away one, at that. While all of my cousins grew up nearby (several next door and a few one house away), we lived a nine-hour car ride away. So our visits to her house were cause for great celebration, and all my memories of Grandma's are of fun times - playing in the creek behind her house, tag in the field with cousins, sledding down the hill in her side yard come winter.

She was a youthful grandmother well into old age. Her visits to our house usually meant batches upon batches of fresh-baked cookies and lots of game playing. She even taught my sister and I how to play penny-ante poker so that she and Mom could play. And in her later years, once the casinos came to town, every trip to Illinois for her also meant a trip to "the boats".

One year for my birthday, Grandma treated me to getting my ears a second-piercing. But the fun part was watching her get her ears double-pierced too!

A lot of haphazard memories here, cobbled together in tribute to a woman I loved. I'll miss you, Grandma!

Gimme A Gift That I Can Keep On Giving

Have you ever heard of micro-finance institutions (MFI's)? Neither had I until recently when I read an article about them in my business school magazine. Sounds kind of dull, doesn't it? That is, until you understand what they're about. In a nutshell? They make small loans (under $1000 usually) to people for whom it will make a big difference. A vendor in Asia who needs $100 to repair his cart and stay in business. A Guatemalan shop owner who can support her whole family by expanding her offerings at a cost of $250.

The point is, these people's lives can be improved radically with just a small amount of investment. But they fall below the threshold for conventional banking loans. So MFI's fill that gap.

I learned in this same article of a non-profit MFI called Kiva, that in their words: "lets you lend to a specific entrepreneur in the developing world - empowering them to lift themselves out of poverty". The way it works is you log on to their web site, kiva.org, read the stories of businesses in need, choose one to support and contribute via credit card payment through kiva. Typical loan periods are 6-12 months, after which your money will return to you (no, you don't receive interest - I believe that's how kiva generates income to keep running). And the default rate is incredibly low - 0.2% on over $2 million in completed loans.

Okay, I realize it might sound like a scam. But with appearances on Oprah and the Today Show, and support from President Clinton, I think they're legit.

What does this have to do with Christmas? Well, I've put a kiva gift certificate on my wish list. Just think of the joy that would come from being part of helping someone make a better life for themselves. And with that money coming back to me later, I could do it over and over again. In fact, I think I'd like that as a Christmas gift every year so that I could compound the impact. Plus it's a great antidote to my problem of "too much stuff".

Mary to Gabriel: "Will That Be Fried or Scrambled?"

My kids are really getting into the holiday spirit these days. Christmas music blares from their radios and tinkles from our piano. And at the first notes of "The First Noel" Uber-princess perks up and shouts out the name as if it was "Name that Christmas Tune". I'm not sure how many others she knows, but as long as she knows that one, we're good.

However,in the midst of all the celebration, there seems to be a bit of confusion. For one thing, I overheard Timid Daughter accusing her surly sister of being a "grunch".

"Mom, will you tell her to stop being a Grunch?" she asked me.

"A what?", I replied.

"You know, a Grunch. That guy that stole Christmas. She keeps being mean to me and I want her to stop".

"You mean the Grinch?", I ask. Then I stop myself. Why should I correct her? Really it's much more fun to see her go around accusing people of being Grunches. And maybe they are. After all, who knows what a Grunch is?

Then there's the carol that every kid loves to sing simply for it's long drawn out chorus. Gloooooo o o o o oooooooooo o o o o ooooooo o o o oooooria. It so happened, during a car ride while they were all belting this out along with Michael W. Smith or whoever that was on the radio, that Little Miss History fessed up.

"I always thought they were saying in EGGSHELLsies deo. But why would there be eggshells?", she wondered aloud.

"Ah yes, dear. That's just one of the mysteries of Christmas", I wanted to say. But I didn't. I just agreed that eggshells sounded kind of silly in a song about Jesus.

Now if I could just get them to stop singing "Jingle Bells, Batman smells...".

My Kind of Store

I think I've finally found a grocery store I might sort of like. You know I can't stand grocery shopping. But maybe that's just because grocery stores make it so I can't stand them. I'm thinking I've found a new place to shop where they understand me better. In fact, I think maybe it's a match made in food shopping heaven.

Have you ever heard of Bloom*? It's a new concept in grocery stores that I think has a lot of the right stuff. First of all, they've got special nearer-to-the-door parking spaces for quick trips and moms with kids. What great thinking! After all, how quick is your trip for a gallon of milk when you have to hike across a big parking lot and then hike across another expanse inside the store? Did I mention that they have their milk near the front of the store where it's easier to grab and go? So I'm thinking when I've got a quick trip for milk and my kids are with me, I'll be parking right next to the dairy fridge where I reach out the window, grab a gallon, pay and go. Okay, so maybe it's not that easy. But it still sounds like a great improvement.

And there's more: you can choose to check out as you go by getting one of those hand-held scanner things (you know, the kind that they give you when you're registering for a wedding and the groom-to-be carries around like it's a futuristic gun thing and scans all sorts of odd stuff so when you're opening gifts as newlyweds you're going, "Hey, what's this drill press? And why did somebody give us Risk? Did we register for these things?" and he's just grinning and grinning. Yeah, one of those things). The way it works at Bloom* is you scan stuff as you put it in your cart. Then you just swipe your credit card at the door to pay and off you go. Works for me, especially since half the time I'm bagging my own groceries because I like to use my own eco-friendly bags.

Then there's the Bloom* staff. They're so full of energy. You walk into the store and they're singing the Partridge Family theme song and dancing and tossing stuff into your cart. Plus they wear one of my favorite colors: lime green. You can see them here.

Yup, Bloom* is the store for me. Sounds super-convenient and efficient. If only the nearest store wasn't 750 miles away.