Maybe that's why I'm feeling like things are all scattered and needing to be put back. So first things first, I'm getting the kids put back. Back on schedule. And back in school. The Uber-Princess is still here with me for another day, so I'm not actually alone until the other two get back. But once kindergarten starts, then it's really time to get back on track. Hopefully in the meantime, somebody's got my back. Because it just feels like I've got back to back chores to complete around here. Between supplying the children for school and getting some room occupants swapped, I've been breaking my back to get stuff done. But let me back up a moment: this is "Back to School" week for us. So hopefully this whole scheduling thing will come back to me soon.
In the spirit of the whole back to school thing, check out what Christina Katz is doing on her Writer Mama blog next month:
"For the third year in a row, The Writer Mama, Christina Katz, is giving away thirty books in thirty days. All you have to do to participate is answer the question that Christina will pose daily. One lucky winner will win each day. There is no limit to how many times you can enter. The drawing is for U.S. residents. You don’t have to be a mom, but of course, the event is created with moms in mind, so please tell all the writer mamas you know! See ya in September at http://thewritermama.wordpress.com."
She's even posted a list of books for week one here. So if you're a writer, check it out. Or even if you're just a mama, that's reason enough too.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Setting Up Shop
This week teachers in our town have begun setting up the classrooms for the new school year that starts next week. But they're not the only ones getting space ready. I've been at work on my space too, getting ready for the school year.
I own my own business. It's small, very small. Just big enough to fit into the life of a mom of young kids. But it's primed to grow. The Uber-Princess starts kindergarten this year. That frees up a few more hours for business. It also means that next year she'll be in school full time. That will free up a bunch more hours for business. And I want to be ready for that.
Getting serious about an at-home business can seem like an oxymoron. I mean, what other kind of work has you switching between taking calls from clients to supervising a sibling squabble within moments? It's tempting to call the business a hobby and just leave it at that. But it's not and I won't. I'm calling it a great arrangement for an at-home mom.
That still leaves the issue of work space. I have an "office". And when I'm in there with the door shut (and a cute door hanger dangling from the knob at my children's insistence), I'm "at work". My children know not to bother me except under extreme circumstances when I'm there. Yet my office is also my husband's den. It's filled with bookshelves and more books than can fit them. His guitars fill nearly half the closet and boxes of old "stuff" litter the floor. The five drawer filing cabinet has been stuffed so full over the past few years that it can take no more.
This is my office. In the interest of getting serious about work, I've been seriously setting up shop. We cleared out space in the file cabinet for my business files (I now have a whole twelve inches of the five drawers to call my own). I'm evicting clutter from my desktop (slowly, oh so slowly it goes). And I hope that we can clear the floor too. Thankfully I don't have visitors to my office over the age of ten. But I think I deserve a presentable space. That's why I'm starting early. Hopefully by the time school starts next year I'll actually have it.
When it comes to having space for business though, what really matters is the mental and emotional space that you give it. Up until now I've made do with a portable file box and a laptop. This year I'm upgrading to the file cabinet and perhaps some desk space. Neither is what makes me a successful at-home business owner. It's more about how I view and approach my business. And that's what works for me. For more Works for Me Wednesday goodness, check out other posts here.
If you're a work-at-home mom, you should check out a great book I've been reading. It's called Making Work at Home Work by Mary Byers. It's a very practical book written by a successful author and speaker who also has been extremely influential in my own career.
I own my own business. It's small, very small. Just big enough to fit into the life of a mom of young kids. But it's primed to grow. The Uber-Princess starts kindergarten this year. That frees up a few more hours for business. It also means that next year she'll be in school full time. That will free up a bunch more hours for business. And I want to be ready for that.
Getting serious about an at-home business can seem like an oxymoron. I mean, what other kind of work has you switching between taking calls from clients to supervising a sibling squabble within moments? It's tempting to call the business a hobby and just leave it at that. But it's not and I won't. I'm calling it a great arrangement for an at-home mom.
That still leaves the issue of work space. I have an "office". And when I'm in there with the door shut (and a cute door hanger dangling from the knob at my children's insistence), I'm "at work". My children know not to bother me except under extreme circumstances when I'm there. Yet my office is also my husband's den. It's filled with bookshelves and more books than can fit them. His guitars fill nearly half the closet and boxes of old "stuff" litter the floor. The five drawer filing cabinet has been stuffed so full over the past few years that it can take no more.
This is my office. In the interest of getting serious about work, I've been seriously setting up shop. We cleared out space in the file cabinet for my business files (I now have a whole twelve inches of the five drawers to call my own). I'm evicting clutter from my desktop (slowly, oh so slowly it goes). And I hope that we can clear the floor too. Thankfully I don't have visitors to my office over the age of ten. But I think I deserve a presentable space. That's why I'm starting early. Hopefully by the time school starts next year I'll actually have it.
When it comes to having space for business though, what really matters is the mental and emotional space that you give it. Up until now I've made do with a portable file box and a laptop. This year I'm upgrading to the file cabinet and perhaps some desk space. Neither is what makes me a successful at-home business owner. It's more about how I view and approach my business. And that's what works for me. For more Works for Me Wednesday goodness, check out other posts here.
If you're a work-at-home mom, you should check out a great book I've been reading. It's called Making Work at Home Work by Mary Byers. It's a very practical book written by a successful author and speaker who also has been extremely influential in my own career.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Stomping & Romping
Do you remember Romper Room? It was a children’s television show when I was a kid. I watched it often and what I remember most about it was the sweet-voiced hostess who closed (and/or opened, I can’t exactly recall) the show by looking through a small open “mirror” to “see” the children who were watching. “I see Joey and Amber and Mikey. Oh look! There’s Tracy and Robert and Millie,” she’d exclaim.
And we believed her, her young viewers. We believed that she did see us watching. Except that she never saw me. Not once did she call out that she saw Lara. I listened carefully every time to hear my name, sure that this would be the time that she finally saw past all the other children and managed to see me. But it never happened. I was un-seeable, unnoticeable. I’m sure it scarred me for life. In fact, I blame all my insecurities on the Romper Room lady’s broken mirror thing.
I don’t know what ever became of that program – how many years it ran or how successful it was. But it did have one marketing success: Romper Stompers. These were a pair of plastic yellow “cups” with long flexible green tubes attached so that you could hold on and walk around on them. They were the commercialized version of tin cans with strings that my mom’s generation would have played with.
Romper Stompers were cool. They lifted you up a few inchers taller and made a clomping sound when you walked around on the linoleum floor or the sidewalk. But they never worked well on carpet. I know. I have a pair.
My children and their friends had a blast clomping down the road of our campground this weekend on those same Romper Stompers. They’re even cooler toys now because nobody else has them. They wouldn’t pass current safety tests (too much chance for slipping and falling or choking on the tube ties). But they still make you taller and allow you to make loud stomping noises.
And you know what? I’m sure if the Romper Room lady were still around, she’d find a way to see Little Miss History, Timid Daughter and the Uber-Princess. I’d make sure of it.
And we believed her, her young viewers. We believed that she did see us watching. Except that she never saw me. Not once did she call out that she saw Lara. I listened carefully every time to hear my name, sure that this would be the time that she finally saw past all the other children and managed to see me. But it never happened. I was un-seeable, unnoticeable. I’m sure it scarred me for life. In fact, I blame all my insecurities on the Romper Room lady’s broken mirror thing.
I don’t know what ever became of that program – how many years it ran or how successful it was. But it did have one marketing success: Romper Stompers. These were a pair of plastic yellow “cups” with long flexible green tubes attached so that you could hold on and walk around on them. They were the commercialized version of tin cans with strings that my mom’s generation would have played with.
Romper Stompers were cool. They lifted you up a few inchers taller and made a clomping sound when you walked around on the linoleum floor or the sidewalk. But they never worked well on carpet. I know. I have a pair.
My children and their friends had a blast clomping down the road of our campground this weekend on those same Romper Stompers. They’re even cooler toys now because nobody else has them. They wouldn’t pass current safety tests (too much chance for slipping and falling or choking on the tube ties). But they still make you taller and allow you to make loud stomping noises.
And you know what? I’m sure if the Romper Room lady were still around, she’d find a way to see Little Miss History, Timid Daughter and the Uber-Princess. I’d make sure of it.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
On Behalf of Overly Pregnant Women
Warning: I am about to rant here. I try not to do that often in this forum, but there are cases where I feel it's warranted. This is one.
If you are pregnant and have not yet reached full term (and not the fakey, "you could go any day" full term, we're talking 39 or 40 weeks pregnant), unless you are of advanced maternal age or have a high-risk pregnancy or are expecting multiples - do not act like it is owed to you to have your baby as soon as possible. And do not complain about how hard it is and how big you feel. We all feel that way during the last few weeks.
But no one feels that way more than the woman who is 41 weeks pregnant. How dare you claim that you have a right to what she hasn't gotten. She deserves the sympathy for how long she has to wait. Not you!
And to the woman who demands that her doctor induce her ASAP even though she's not even at 39 weeks (I've sat next to her in the OB office before) I say, "shame on you! Get a spine - if you're about to become a mother for the first time, you're gonna need it."
Honestly, I am only this angry because of the affront to women who really have to tough it out and who do so with dignity and in silence. I have been that woman - three times (okay, maybe not the dignity part, and I'm not so sure about the silence, but still). My first child was born a full week past the due date and weighed in at 8 pounds 12 oz (mind you, I am a smaller person - 5'5" and 115 lbs. before that pregnancy). Only once I hit my due date did I start talking about getting induced. And even during pregnancies 2 & 3 I waited to be induced until my due date had passed by at least several days, if not a week. I never took it as my right to have that baby sooner.
As for people asking about your pregnancy - they're concerned. They see how tough it is on you and want to be an encouragement. Or else they're just excited for you. So get over yourself! Until your due date passes and people start asking, "You're still here?" as they gaze at your exploding belly, you are insulting every woman who has ever endured what you're going through with your expectations to be treated any different.
'Nuf said.
Inbox ballooning to 73 messages
If you are pregnant and have not yet reached full term (and not the fakey, "you could go any day" full term, we're talking 39 or 40 weeks pregnant), unless you are of advanced maternal age or have a high-risk pregnancy or are expecting multiples - do not act like it is owed to you to have your baby as soon as possible. And do not complain about how hard it is and how big you feel. We all feel that way during the last few weeks.
But no one feels that way more than the woman who is 41 weeks pregnant. How dare you claim that you have a right to what she hasn't gotten. She deserves the sympathy for how long she has to wait. Not you!
And to the woman who demands that her doctor induce her ASAP even though she's not even at 39 weeks (I've sat next to her in the OB office before) I say, "shame on you! Get a spine - if you're about to become a mother for the first time, you're gonna need it."
Honestly, I am only this angry because of the affront to women who really have to tough it out and who do so with dignity and in silence. I have been that woman - three times (okay, maybe not the dignity part, and I'm not so sure about the silence, but still). My first child was born a full week past the due date and weighed in at 8 pounds 12 oz (mind you, I am a smaller person - 5'5" and 115 lbs. before that pregnancy). Only once I hit my due date did I start talking about getting induced. And even during pregnancies 2 & 3 I waited to be induced until my due date had passed by at least several days, if not a week. I never took it as my right to have that baby sooner.
As for people asking about your pregnancy - they're concerned. They see how tough it is on you and want to be an encouragement. Or else they're just excited for you. So get over yourself! Until your due date passes and people start asking, "You're still here?" as they gaze at your exploding belly, you are insulting every woman who has ever endured what you're going through with your expectations to be treated any different.
'Nuf said.
Inbox ballooning to 73 messages
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Butterflies and Growing Girls
I'm beat! I sit here in my big chair with my feet up, longing for a neck message and maybe a hot cup of tea to go with it. I've worked hard today on one of my favorite kind of projects: a transformation. We are painting the bedroom that two of our girls share (on a rotating basis - the Uber-Princess is on her way out and Timid Daughter is joining Little Miss History). The older two had decided it was time to do away with the sweet pink walls dotted with purple butterflies and fushia flowers. They are ready for a "bigger girl room". They're ready. Me? Not so much.
Amusing Dad & I painted the first coat this afternoon. It'sa deep teal color "Tropical Tide". The girls decided on that for the base color and we'll add "Victorian Purple" dots later. Each stroke of the brush brought us further from little girl room and more committed to "big girldom". Each butterfly I covered in teal sent tingles down my spine. When I reached the final few feet of pink, Timid Daughter & the Uber-Princess helped roll a bit and then stood back and watched me finish.
"There goes the last butterfly," remarked Timid Daughter.
The last one indeed. Like butterflies that flit in ever-widening circles away from my garden are my daughters. This summer we've given little bits of freedom to LMH, like riding her bike to the pool with a friend (and without us). I sigh as she goes, say a brief prayer and return to my housework. Timid Daughter wants to follow as soon as she can.
The transformation from little girl pink to big girlteal" Tropical Tide" just confirms what is already at work. They are growing quickly.
Which makes me anxious to move on to decorating the room the Uber-Princess will occupy next. She's asking for - get this - princesses on her walls. Who'da thunk?!
And so we'll still have one "little girl" room. For now.
Amusing Dad & I painted the first coat this afternoon. It's
"There goes the last butterfly," remarked Timid Daughter.
The last one indeed. Like butterflies that flit in ever-widening circles away from my garden are my daughters. This summer we've given little bits of freedom to LMH, like riding her bike to the pool with a friend (and without us). I sigh as she goes, say a brief prayer and return to my housework. Timid Daughter wants to follow as soon as she can.
The transformation from little girl pink to big girl
Which makes me anxious to move on to decorating the room the Uber-Princess will occupy next. She's asking for - get this - princesses on her walls. Who'da thunk?!
And so we'll still have one "little girl" room. For now.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Works for Me: Summer Chore Jar
Right now as I type, my children are happily setting about getting their morning chores done. Did you get that? They're happily doing their chores. In fact, breakfast is rarely over before they start asking about the special chore for the day.
How do I do it? A "chore jar". Each week I make a bunch of slips of paper containing the chores that I want my children to get done for the week. I usually use flylady's zone for the week as a starting place and often follow her suggested zone chores (if you haven't checked flylady out, she has a great method for simplifying the job of housekeeping). I put in enough chores for each child to do one a day, minus one day off (so with 3 children times 4 days, I usually come up with 12 tasks). Every week I also put in a slip that says "bye" - meaning no chores for the day. If one child draws that slip, all the rest of the slips go back (except for the "bye") and we take the morning off.
So here's how it works: each child draws a chore. I keep them simple like "wipe the baseboards and door frame", "dust the fan blades", "clean the bathroom sink". And with using one zone/room for the week, a lot of those putzy spring-cleaning type chores get done. They're allowed to trade if they want (rarely) and they get one "do-over" for the week if they really, really don't like the task they drew.
And that's all it takes to get some happy workers. I think it's a combination of the element of surprise and the simple tasks that make it work. They know once they've done their regular morning routine (get dressed, make bed, collect laundry, etc.) and completed the chore for the day that they are pretty much free from work. And me? I make myself available to assist on the daily chores, but usually I also manage to get in one or two cleaning tasks too before calling it a day on house cleaning.
It works for me and it might work for you too. For more Works for Me Wednesday tips check out the list over here.
How do I do it? A "chore jar". Each week I make a bunch of slips of paper containing the chores that I want my children to get done for the week. I usually use flylady's zone for the week as a starting place and often follow her suggested zone chores (if you haven't checked flylady out, she has a great method for simplifying the job of housekeeping). I put in enough chores for each child to do one a day, minus one day off (so with 3 children times 4 days, I usually come up with 12 tasks). Every week I also put in a slip that says "bye" - meaning no chores for the day. If one child draws that slip, all the rest of the slips go back (except for the "bye") and we take the morning off.
So here's how it works: each child draws a chore. I keep them simple like "wipe the baseboards and door frame", "dust the fan blades", "clean the bathroom sink". And with using one zone/room for the week, a lot of those putzy spring-cleaning type chores get done. They're allowed to trade if they want (rarely) and they get one "do-over" for the week if they really, really don't like the task they drew.
And that's all it takes to get some happy workers. I think it's a combination of the element of surprise and the simple tasks that make it work. They know once they've done their regular morning routine (get dressed, make bed, collect laundry, etc.) and completed the chore for the day that they are pretty much free from work. And me? I make myself available to assist on the daily chores, but usually I also manage to get in one or two cleaning tasks too before calling it a day on house cleaning.
It works for me and it might work for you too. For more Works for Me Wednesday tips check out the list over here.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Making Iced Tea & Making Do
My iced tea machine broke today. My new one, that I got for Christmas last year. It's July. I live in Chicagoland. And I need my iced tea.
The thing is, I'm pretty sure I sometimes made iced tea before I got the fancy machine. Sometimes. But I can't remember how I did it. It certainly couldn't have been as simple or as fast.
I started thinking, 'I sure was looking forward to that iced tea this afternoon. And there are people coming over tonight and those people deserve iced tea, if they so want some. But my machine just up and broke.'
Then I thought something else: I thought of the robin I saw this morning. He startled me as I stepped around the corner of our house to collect a bag of yard waste to put by the street. I was picking up the bag when I heard a splashing sound behind me. There, in a small amount of water that had pooled in the depressed lid of an old plastic trash can, was this male robin, rolling his roly-poly belly all around in that water.
I watched him for a few moments. He had no modesty, this little bird. He cared not at all that some lady was watching him. Nor did he care that he wasn't washing in a proper bird bath. He was making do with my rain-filled trash can lid.
Like that robin, I'm making do. I unplugged the broken machine, started the flame under my tea kettle and set some water to boiling. Once it was hot, I poured it over the tea bags in my fancy brewing pitcher. And I made iced tea. It didn't come as simple or fast, but it's made. And with a whole bunch of sugar added, it will be some good sweet tea for me and my company.
Inbox is at 35 - I'm going backwards!
The thing is, I'm pretty sure I sometimes made iced tea before I got the fancy machine. Sometimes. But I can't remember how I did it. It certainly couldn't have been as simple or as fast.
I started thinking, 'I sure was looking forward to that iced tea this afternoon. And there are people coming over tonight and those people deserve iced tea, if they so want some. But my machine just up and broke.'
Then I thought something else: I thought of the robin I saw this morning. He startled me as I stepped around the corner of our house to collect a bag of yard waste to put by the street. I was picking up the bag when I heard a splashing sound behind me. There, in a small amount of water that had pooled in the depressed lid of an old plastic trash can, was this male robin, rolling his roly-poly belly all around in that water.
I watched him for a few moments. He had no modesty, this little bird. He cared not at all that some lady was watching him. Nor did he care that he wasn't washing in a proper bird bath. He was making do with my rain-filled trash can lid.
Like that robin, I'm making do. I unplugged the broken machine, started the flame under my tea kettle and set some water to boiling. Once it was hot, I poured it over the tea bags in my fancy brewing pitcher. And I made iced tea. It didn't come as simple or fast, but it's made. And with a whole bunch of sugar added, it will be some good sweet tea for me and my company.
Inbox is at 35 - I'm going backwards!
Monday, July 06, 2009
Solitude
I'm on my own for the next three days. The kids are off for some fun with their second cousins out at Grandma & Grandpa's Lake House. Amusing Dad is mostly at work. So it's just me. Solo. Alone.
This fact was not lost on the Uber-Princess. As we were driving to their grandparents' local residence to drop them off for their trip, she suggested a puppy.
"You know, Mom," she explained. "Once I go to first grade you're going to be alone every day. You might get lonely. You need a puppy to keep you company."
No matter that first grade for her is still a year away. She was thinking ahead. And she was thinking of how I'll feel with her gone all day. It worried her. Need I say that this speaks volumes about the Uber-Princess herself? She is a social butterfly. The concept of being alone all day would be torturous to her. And of course, she wouldn't wish that on anyone.
I'm not getting a puppy any time soon. Being alone does not bother me. In fact, I sometimes rather like it. Like today. I did wake up early enough to see Amusing Dad and wish him a good day. But since then I haven't seen or spoken to another soul. And it's been grand!
There is more room for my thoughts in this empty house of mine. And space to relax. I've done some straightening in different rooms with the glad thought that they'll still be that way tonight...and tomorrow... and even for a while the next day. And I'm disciplining myself to hack away on some writing and speaking projects that would otherwise progress in only fits and starts with the children around.
Here's another odd thing, I'm listening a little more to my own voice. Not my spoken voice - I haven't heard it since I talked to Amusing Dad this morning (and I couldn't hear it when I was singing while out on an early morning bike ride because my headphones blocked it out). I'm listening to my internal voice, the voice of my thoughts. In writing, the big hairy objective that most new writers fail to achieve is finding their "voice", that is, getting the voice in their brain down onto paper. I'm wondering if I've found it. But it means getting time and space to listen. So that's what I'm doing today.
And my inbox is down to 20!
This fact was not lost on the Uber-Princess. As we were driving to their grandparents' local residence to drop them off for their trip, she suggested a puppy.
"You know, Mom," she explained. "Once I go to first grade you're going to be alone every day. You might get lonely. You need a puppy to keep you company."
No matter that first grade for her is still a year away. She was thinking ahead. And she was thinking of how I'll feel with her gone all day. It worried her. Need I say that this speaks volumes about the Uber-Princess herself? She is a social butterfly. The concept of being alone all day would be torturous to her. And of course, she wouldn't wish that on anyone.
I'm not getting a puppy any time soon. Being alone does not bother me. In fact, I sometimes rather like it. Like today. I did wake up early enough to see Amusing Dad and wish him a good day. But since then I haven't seen or spoken to another soul. And it's been grand!
There is more room for my thoughts in this empty house of mine. And space to relax. I've done some straightening in different rooms with the glad thought that they'll still be that way tonight...and tomorrow... and even for a while the next day. And I'm disciplining myself to hack away on some writing and speaking projects that would otherwise progress in only fits and starts with the children around.
Here's another odd thing, I'm listening a little more to my own voice. Not my spoken voice - I haven't heard it since I talked to Amusing Dad this morning (and I couldn't hear it when I was singing while out on an early morning bike ride because my headphones blocked it out). I'm listening to my internal voice, the voice of my thoughts. In writing, the big hairy objective that most new writers fail to achieve is finding their "voice", that is, getting the voice in their brain down onto paper. I'm wondering if I've found it. But it means getting time and space to listen. So that's what I'm doing today.
And my inbox is down to 20!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Aiming for the Illusive "Zero Messages"
A month or two ago I read a post by Michael Hyatt, CEO of Thomas Nelson, Inc. about keeping on top of email. It had me inspired and motivated to weed through the mess that had become my inbox and empty it out. Previously I had been satisfied to get it down to 50 messages. But Hyatt talks about clearing it out. Making it completely empty. As in zero messages.
I can't remember ever seeing my inbox say "0 messages". Not even the day I set it up (because, after all, you have to have someone send a test message and then you've got mail). However, once I read what Michael Hyatt does on a regular basis, suddenly zero messages had become the Holy Grail of email communication for me. I wanted to get my inbox empty. I needed to get that inbox empty.
Two months later and I'm still hovering around 50 messages. Sometimes (weekends) it zooms up to a hundred or more. Then gradually during the work week I attempt to whittle it down. One week I even had it down to 18 messages. Almost there, but not quite.
So I am going public with my quest. Shame me. Hound me. Do your part to urge me on to that illusive goal. I want to reach zero messages. The perennial procrastinator in me makes this a challenge, but I'm ready to purge the procrastination. I want to storm the inbox and obliterate the messages there. Only 38 messages to go. Can I do it?
Oh dear, do you realize what you've just done, Amusing Mom? You've just invited all these people to blast your inbox in an effort to thwart your quest. Or worse yet, you've caused all the lovely people you enjoy hearing from to shy away from sending you email. What to do? How to reassure them that you'll promptly delete all "spam"/fake emails and happily (& promptly) reply to any real email? Oh well, what's done is done - trust that your readers are ALL lovely people who will gladly continue to send you electronic missives. Now pick up that laptop and get off on your quest!
I can't remember ever seeing my inbox say "0 messages". Not even the day I set it up (because, after all, you have to have someone send a test message and then you've got mail). However, once I read what Michael Hyatt does on a regular basis, suddenly zero messages had become the Holy Grail of email communication for me. I wanted to get my inbox empty. I needed to get that inbox empty.
Two months later and I'm still hovering around 50 messages. Sometimes (weekends) it zooms up to a hundred or more. Then gradually during the work week I attempt to whittle it down. One week I even had it down to 18 messages. Almost there, but not quite.
So I am going public with my quest. Shame me. Hound me. Do your part to urge me on to that illusive goal. I want to reach zero messages. The perennial procrastinator in me makes this a challenge, but I'm ready to purge the procrastination. I want to storm the inbox and obliterate the messages there. Only 38 messages to go. Can I do it?
Oh dear, do you realize what you've just done, Amusing Mom? You've just invited all these people to blast your inbox in an effort to thwart your quest. Or worse yet, you've caused all the lovely people you enjoy hearing from to shy away from sending you email. What to do? How to reassure them that you'll promptly delete all "spam"/fake emails and happily (& promptly) reply to any real email? Oh well, what's done is done - trust that your readers are ALL lovely people who will gladly continue to send you electronic missives. Now pick up that laptop and get off on your quest!
Monday, June 22, 2009
Alone & a Rest
The house is quiet today. It's empty. Amusing Dad is off at work. The children hopped into their grandparents' RV at the campground this weekend and should return sometime this afternoon. I'm alone.
Funny thing is, without a husband and children around today I find that I'm...still a wife and a mom. I woke up to a house empty of people, but filled with needs. The need for food prompted a trip to the grocery store. The need for clean clothes set me to working on laundry. I made a drive to Amusing Dad's work to take him some things he had forgotten. I fed the girls' fish. There were piles to put away and bills to pay. And so it has gone.
I made only one deviation from my to-do list today. I took a nap. I was thoroughly enjoying my day alone, listening to a lecture on CD from a conference I recently attended. Without the demands of three young girls to distract me, I could let my mind focus on the thoughts that came up. So by mid-afternoon, I was finding myself a bit overwhelmed by all those thoughts. There is never a day where I can entertain more than one deep train of thought and here I'd been riding three or four for some hours now. It drained me.
There is one more thing absent from my house today: busyness. For months now I've run from one activity to the next, prepared for one commitment after the other, worked on one project after another. Last Thursday the final project was complete. My plate is now empty, save for the needs of one husband and three daughters. My to-do list has shrunk to a doable size. My calendar has space for relaxation.
It is no wonder that I needed a rest.
Funny thing is, without a husband and children around today I find that I'm...still a wife and a mom. I woke up to a house empty of people, but filled with needs. The need for food prompted a trip to the grocery store. The need for clean clothes set me to working on laundry. I made a drive to Amusing Dad's work to take him some things he had forgotten. I fed the girls' fish. There were piles to put away and bills to pay. And so it has gone.
I made only one deviation from my to-do list today. I took a nap. I was thoroughly enjoying my day alone, listening to a lecture on CD from a conference I recently attended. Without the demands of three young girls to distract me, I could let my mind focus on the thoughts that came up. So by mid-afternoon, I was finding myself a bit overwhelmed by all those thoughts. There is never a day where I can entertain more than one deep train of thought and here I'd been riding three or four for some hours now. It drained me.
There is one more thing absent from my house today: busyness. For months now I've run from one activity to the next, prepared for one commitment after the other, worked on one project after another. Last Thursday the final project was complete. My plate is now empty, save for the needs of one husband and three daughters. My to-do list has shrunk to a doable size. My calendar has space for relaxation.
It is no wonder that I needed a rest.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Wilton Tent Sale
starts tomorrow!!! After taking a year off (which, frankly, was a good thing for my pocketbook since we never manage to emerge from there spending under $50), the big white tents are pitched again.
If you need any cake decorating supplies (including this really cool spray-on food coloring that is great for backgrounds on cakes when you're doing something like water or grass), it's the place to go. I don't think I ever see any real sales on Wilton in the stores, so the discounts at their tent sale are unbeatable. Of course, it helps if you live in the Chicago metropolitan area. Wilton is located in Woodridge on 75th at I-355.
We'll have our tribe traipsing through there in the next couple of days. I'm not sure that we actually need anything, but it's such an incredible kitchen smorgasbord that it's hard to stay away. A Musing Dad is just as big a fan of the tent sale as I am (maybe even more).
Now that I think about it, I just might pick up one of those cool cupcake trees. Or maybe a portable container for cupcakes. And then if I get one, I'll have to whip up a batch of Magnolia's goodies...
Note on Tent Sale dates & hours: Runs May 29 to June 16. Hours are 4:30pm-8pm on the 29th, then Saturdays and Sundays 8am - 6pm and Mondays through Fridays 9am - 8pm.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Breaking Expectations
Rebel or conformist? Which are you?
I'm a conformist, through and through. Rules are meant to be followed. It drives me nuts to see people not following the rules. To me they seem rude and self-centered. I've always taken it that people who go against the grain are just being selfish.
Now I'm beginning to wonder if they're just self-aware. Going along with the program often comes at a cost. As a conformist I would simply go with it and then fume and gripe it when the cost was more than I had wanted to pay.
Well, I'm learning to rebel. Not for rebellion's sake. For my sake. I'm learning to pay attention to the price of rules and expectations and decide whether I can pay it. And if I can't pay, I won't play.
Here's an example from the last couple of weeks that really opened my eyes to this:
a good friend has been good through some difficult times. As to be expected, another friend coordinated meals for her family. I was asked if I could make a meal.
Normally, my heart would sink at the thought of having to cook for another family. Cooking is a necessary evil to me. I do it for my family and I do it reasonably well, but without any real joy. And so when situations arise (births, deaths, sickness) I pitch in by making a meal but dread every minute of it and find myself drained in the process. Cooking is not my love language, my chosen area of service, a hobby, or anything aside from a way to keep my family alive.
So here it is, a request for a meal. My heart sinks. Not only that, but I am already burnt out by the own demands in my life. From where I stand, I'm wishing someone would make me a meal. And so I avoid responding, but I think to myself, "I just can't do it".
Some days pass and I walk around in a cloud of guilt for not wanting to help a good friend this way. Finally, I simply decide that I need to take the step of not doing something simply because it's expected. And so I respond that I cannot make a meal. I am not in a place where I am able to do it. Period.
Suddenly the guilt vanishes. I've rebelled and placed myself and my needs first. But I'm not selfish. I'm still a caring person. Without the weight of expectations I find the freedom to be creative. I write a card to my friend in crisis. I drop by her house with a small gift. I show compassion through actions that fit me better than making a meal. I think she is blessed. And I'm not so burnt out.
This conformist is seeing that rebellion can be good. I'm thinking of making it a rule to rebel at least once a day. Of course that rule might be hardest to break of all.
I'm a conformist, through and through. Rules are meant to be followed. It drives me nuts to see people not following the rules. To me they seem rude and self-centered. I've always taken it that people who go against the grain are just being selfish.
Now I'm beginning to wonder if they're just self-aware. Going along with the program often comes at a cost. As a conformist I would simply go with it and then fume and gripe it when the cost was more than I had wanted to pay.
Well, I'm learning to rebel. Not for rebellion's sake. For my sake. I'm learning to pay attention to the price of rules and expectations and decide whether I can pay it. And if I can't pay, I won't play.
Here's an example from the last couple of weeks that really opened my eyes to this:
a good friend has been good through some difficult times. As to be expected, another friend coordinated meals for her family. I was asked if I could make a meal.
Normally, my heart would sink at the thought of having to cook for another family. Cooking is a necessary evil to me. I do it for my family and I do it reasonably well, but without any real joy. And so when situations arise (births, deaths, sickness) I pitch in by making a meal but dread every minute of it and find myself drained in the process. Cooking is not my love language, my chosen area of service, a hobby, or anything aside from a way to keep my family alive.
So here it is, a request for a meal. My heart sinks. Not only that, but I am already burnt out by the own demands in my life. From where I stand, I'm wishing someone would make me a meal. And so I avoid responding, but I think to myself, "I just can't do it".
Some days pass and I walk around in a cloud of guilt for not wanting to help a good friend this way. Finally, I simply decide that I need to take the step of not doing something simply because it's expected. And so I respond that I cannot make a meal. I am not in a place where I am able to do it. Period.
Suddenly the guilt vanishes. I've rebelled and placed myself and my needs first. But I'm not selfish. I'm still a caring person. Without the weight of expectations I find the freedom to be creative. I write a card to my friend in crisis. I drop by her house with a small gift. I show compassion through actions that fit me better than making a meal. I think she is blessed. And I'm not so burnt out.
This conformist is seeing that rebellion can be good. I'm thinking of making it a rule to rebel at least once a day. Of course that rule might be hardest to break of all.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Super Savings Saturday: Cheap Baby Wipes
If you have a little one in diapers, chances are you go through a TON of baby wipes. And that can be pretty expensive after a while (as if all those diapers weren't enough). Well, I found a recipe for homemade wipes shortly after my first child was born and I used it through all three of my girls' days in diapers. These things were cheap, easy to make and worked just fine, thank you!
Wanna know the secret recipe*? Here it is:
1 roll of regular size sheet Bounty paper towels (do not skimp & buy cheepie paper towels - they will. not. work.)
1 cup of water
1 Tbs. baby shampoo (any brand)
1 Tbs. baby oil (any brand)
Cut the paper towel roll in half. I usually used a hack saw, but a bread knife works too. Then remove the cardboard core. Place the half roll in a RubberMaid servin' saver 3 qt., size G container or similar size container with lid. Mix together the water, shampoo & baby oil. Pour over paper towel roll, saturating the towels evenly.
To use, pull paper towels from up from center of roll.
I used these almost exclusively for all three girls. The only reason I bought regular baby wipes was to put in the travel wipes container in the diaper bag for when we were out and about.
*Sorry for no attribution of my original source. It's been so long now that I completely forget where I got it from.
Wanna know the secret recipe*? Here it is:
1 roll of regular size sheet Bounty paper towels (do not skimp & buy cheepie paper towels - they will. not. work.)
1 cup of water
1 Tbs. baby shampoo (any brand)
1 Tbs. baby oil (any brand)
Cut the paper towel roll in half. I usually used a hack saw, but a bread knife works too. Then remove the cardboard core. Place the half roll in a RubberMaid servin' saver 3 qt., size G container or similar size container with lid. Mix together the water, shampoo & baby oil. Pour over paper towel roll, saturating the towels evenly.
To use, pull paper towels from up from center of roll.
I used these almost exclusively for all three girls. The only reason I bought regular baby wipes was to put in the travel wipes container in the diaper bag for when we were out and about.
*Sorry for no attribution of my original source. It's been so long now that I completely forget where I got it from.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Party At the Dentist's Office
Can I tell you something? I like the dentist's office. Oh, not my dentist's office. Not at all! No, I'm talking about my kid's dentist. Ever since they started going there it's been an appointment I look forward to. Do you know why? It is an hour of uninterrupted Mom Time.
It's not such a big deal to me now. With my three kids in school at least part of the time, I get Mom Time often enough. But back when they were smaller, I felt like the only time I ever got a break from mommy duty was when the little darlings were asleep, and frankly by then I was too tired to notice. But then they got old enough for the dentist -- all three of them. And what a day that was! I actually counted down the months until that appointment arrived. Yes, during their younger years Mommy time was often so sorely lacking that any trip to the pediatric dentist truly made me want to celebrate. Really and truly.
If that concept rubs you wrong and you want to call me a bad mom, go ahead. I actually hear those kind of comments (indirectly) often enough. I'm also the mom who sends her kids to public school and cheers when Summer (or Winter or Spring) break is over. I love my girls. A lot. And I enjoy being with them. But I also really, really need time to myself. And I guess if that is what it takes to make a bad mom, then I am one.
For the record: as bad a mom as I am, I still make them brush every morning and every night. It's way cheaper to pay a babysitter than the dentist.
It's not such a big deal to me now. With my three kids in school at least part of the time, I get Mom Time often enough. But back when they were smaller, I felt like the only time I ever got a break from mommy duty was when the little darlings were asleep, and frankly by then I was too tired to notice. But then they got old enough for the dentist -- all three of them. And what a day that was! I actually counted down the months until that appointment arrived. Yes, during their younger years Mommy time was often so sorely lacking that any trip to the pediatric dentist truly made me want to celebrate. Really and truly.
If that concept rubs you wrong and you want to call me a bad mom, go ahead. I actually hear those kind of comments (indirectly) often enough. I'm also the mom who sends her kids to public school and cheers when Summer (or Winter or Spring) break is over. I love my girls. A lot. And I enjoy being with them. But I also really, really need time to myself. And I guess if that is what it takes to make a bad mom, then I am one.
For the record: as bad a mom as I am, I still make them brush every morning and every night. It's way cheaper to pay a babysitter than the dentist.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
It's, Um...Me!
I was tagged today by everydaymom, who apparently has not picked up on the unwritten code of amusingmom to keep her identity a tip-top internet secret. But since I'm in need of some creative prompts for blog posts, I decided to take her up on the game.
Here are the rules for "Keeping it Real": Take a picture of yourself right now.
No primping or preparing.
Just snap a picture.
Load the picture onto your blog.
Tag some people to play.
That's it, easy as PIE
So here I am, as I was upon reading that tag. Sitting in Panera, just minding my own little business. No primping or preparing. No regular camera either. Thank goodness for Photo Booth (which, incidentally, I have used to take regular photographs when my husband was out with the regular camera. It does do a pretty decent job and lets you choose special effects before shooting your photo (like the one I used here).
Now who to tag?
Llama Momma
WilyHacker
Beast Mom
Michelle Gregory
Here are the rules for "Keeping it Real": Take a picture of yourself right now.
No primping or preparing.
Just snap a picture.
Load the picture onto your blog.
Tag some people to play.
That's it, easy as PIE
So here I am, as I was upon reading that tag. Sitting in Panera, just minding my own little business. No primping or preparing. No regular camera either. Thank goodness for Photo Booth (which, incidentally, I have used to take regular photographs when my husband was out with the regular camera. It does do a pretty decent job and lets you choose special effects before shooting your photo (like the one I used here). Now who to tag?
Llama Momma
WilyHacker
Beast Mom
Michelle Gregory
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Super Savings Sunday Tip
Do you like breakfast cereal? What about Post breakfast cereals? Do you live near a Jewel (or another grocery store in the Albertson's chain, possibly)? Here's a good deal that's going on from now through Wednesday, April 1st:
Select varieties of Post cereal are on sale 2 for $3, but you must buy two to get the deal (or else they're $2.50). And you must use your preferred card. $1.50 a box sounds pretty good, doesn't it? But wait...there's more.
Currently there is a promotion going on where if you buy Post cereal, you can get a coupon for money off your next transaction:
Buy 3, get $2 off your next order
Buy 4, get $3 off
Buy 5 or more, get $5 off.
So...if you buy 6 (at 2/$3) it will cost you $9, but at the end of your transaction it will print you a coupon for $5 off. Which is like paying $4 for 6 boxes.
Sounds pretty good, huh? But wait... you can make it even better if you get the Sunday paper. This week's Smart Source coupon insert has a coupon for $1.00 off 2 boxes of select Post cereals (Shredded Wheat, Raisin Bran, or Grape Nuts Nuggets or Flakes - 10 oz. or larger)
If you get more than one paper, like I do (Chicago Tribune and the Naperville Sun), or if a friend or relative who doesn't use theirs will give them to you (thanks, Mom!), you can use three of those coupons on your six boxes. Your total cost for those 6 boxes would come to $1 (plus tax). Even one or two coupons makes it a super deal.
(Btw - if you don't like one of the 2/$3 varieties, you can substitute in another Post cereal - like Honeycombs and you'll still get the coupon at the end. I did that today and ended up paying $2 for my six boxes with two of them being the really big boxes of Honeycombs).
Six boxes may sound like a lot. But at that price, I'd say stock up! Make space in your pantry and fatten up your wallet at the same time.
Note: I've confirmed that this same deal is going on at the Albertson's stores too!
Select varieties of Post cereal are on sale 2 for $3, but you must buy two to get the deal (or else they're $2.50). And you must use your preferred card. $1.50 a box sounds pretty good, doesn't it? But wait...there's more.
Currently there is a promotion going on where if you buy Post cereal, you can get a coupon for money off your next transaction:
Buy 3, get $2 off your next order
Buy 4, get $3 off
Buy 5 or more, get $5 off.
So...if you buy 6 (at 2/$3) it will cost you $9, but at the end of your transaction it will print you a coupon for $5 off. Which is like paying $4 for 6 boxes.
Sounds pretty good, huh? But wait... you can make it even better if you get the Sunday paper. This week's Smart Source coupon insert has a coupon for $1.00 off 2 boxes of select Post cereals (Shredded Wheat, Raisin Bran, or Grape Nuts Nuggets or Flakes - 10 oz. or larger)
If you get more than one paper, like I do (Chicago Tribune and the Naperville Sun), or if a friend or relative who doesn't use theirs will give them to you (thanks, Mom!), you can use three of those coupons on your six boxes. Your total cost for those 6 boxes would come to $1 (plus tax). Even one or two coupons makes it a super deal.
(Btw - if you don't like one of the 2/$3 varieties, you can substitute in another Post cereal - like Honeycombs and you'll still get the coupon at the end. I did that today and ended up paying $2 for my six boxes with two of them being the really big boxes of Honeycombs).
Six boxes may sound like a lot. But at that price, I'd say stock up! Make space in your pantry and fatten up your wallet at the same time.
Note: I've confirmed that this same deal is going on at the Albertson's stores too!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
A Little Crafting Fun
I haven't posted any pampering ideas for a while, but had so much fun putting together a sample craft for my daughter's birthday party that I had to share. Isn't it cute?
It's a 5 7/8" x 5 1/2" canvas bag that we found in groups of 5 for $6 at Jo-Ann Fabrics (get them for less with a coupon). I stamped it with the musical notes image and glued on the ribbon. All told, it took less than 10 minutes to complete. I'm thinking I could fill it with matching notecards or maybe small lotions and soaps as a gift.
The kids each decorated their own with stamped pictures, ribbons and drawings they made with fabric markers. It was the perfect craft for a group of 8-year-olds. They had a blast doing it and then had a place to stash their goodies from the party (although we did have to wait for the markers to dry a little first so not everyone's goodies actually got in their canvas bag).
Because they are so quick & inexpensive, I'm thinking they would make cute party favors or special event gifts (like a women's ministry luncheon). Just switch up the colors on the ribbon and the kind of stamp to match your theme.
Any other ideas for how to fill this fun bag?
Monday, March 16, 2009
Beannachtaà na Féile Pádraig oraibh! (Blessings of St. Patrick's Day Upon You!)
Every year at this time, I find myself proud to be able to trace some of my ancestry to Ireland. And it's nice to see that I'm not the only one. Even our president has some Irish in him. If you don't believe me, watch the video - he explains it himself. Actually, watch the video anyway. YouTube wouldn't allow me to post it here. Trust me, your St. Patrick's Day isn't complete until you've seen this.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Announcing: Frugal Friday or Something Like That
I came up with a new idea for blog content (which the few faithful followers I have know has been lacking as of late): Frugal Friday. These would be posts sharing a money saving idea or tip or deal alert. The only thing is, I don't expect to post them only on Friday, nor will I post something every Friday. In fact, this first frugal post isn't coming to you on a Friday. So maybe it will be a Savings Sunday or Money Matters Monday post. But I hope you get the gist. I just want to pass along things I've learned or heard that make it easier for all of us trying to weather this financial ickiness (recession, crisis, whatever you want to call it).
Here's today's tip. It's a deal alert and if you have a kid in diapers and live near a Walgreen's, you'll want to listen up (this is from Jill Cataldo's web site):
Spend $25 or more on Huggies diapers or wipes and get a $10 coupon for your next shopping trip (called a Register Reward at Walgreens). This week diapers are on sale for $10 a pack.
Print out coupons from the following sites: Coupons.com and Red Plum for $5 and $3 (I think they'll allow you to print two of each and they may only have them available for so long, so check it out soon). You can also find ones for Huggies in the 2/8 Smart Source insert or 3/1 Smart Source for $1.50 - not as good a deal, but still...
Here's today's tip. It's a deal alert and if you have a kid in diapers and live near a Walgreen's, you'll want to listen up (this is from Jill Cataldo's web site):
Spend $25 or more on Huggies diapers or wipes and get a $10 coupon for your next shopping trip (called a Register Reward at Walgreens). This week diapers are on sale for $10 a pack.
Print out coupons from the following sites: Coupons.com and Red Plum for $5 and $3 (I think they'll allow you to print two of each and they may only have them available for so long, so check it out soon). You can also find ones for Huggies in the 2/8 Smart Source insert or 3/1 Smart Source for $1.50 - not as good a deal, but still...
Here's an additional help that Jill points out:
Then, if you can find one, pick up the 99-cent coloring book from Walgreens. It contains a bunch of Walgreens store coupons, including one for $1 off Huggies. You will only need one, as Walgreens coupons apply to all your like items in one order. (Additionally, most Wags will let you keep the coupon, as they just discard the store coupons at the end of the day.)This is how she does the math:
3 packs of Huggies @ $10 = $30That's my deal alert for today. More frugal tips to come!
Minus $1 x 3 for coloring book coupon = $27
Minus two $5 coupons and one $3 coupon = $14
Pay $15 and get at $10 RR = $4 for 3 packs of Huggies!
Friday, March 06, 2009
Let's Sing a Shanty
"Let's sing a shanty," LMH said to her sisters this morning. Because that's what all kids sit around and sing, right?
And so they did. Little Miss History, Timid Daughter and the Uber-Princess belted out The Drinking Gourd as solemnly, deeply, and loudly as three little white girls can.
"Follooooow...the dri inkin' goooourddd. Follooooooww...the dri inkin' gooourddd. The old man is a waitin' gonna carry you ta freedom..."
I laughed a moment to hear them sing such an unconventional song. But then I sobered up. I remembered the other night as we walked home from an evening program at school and the Uber-Princess looked up at the stars and asked me, "where is the Drinking Gourd, Mommy?".
She knows what it is, if not the significance of the song they sang today. We listen to this kind of music and we talk about it. They like to know. They like to learn. And so their daddy has been urging them to bring home the book from the school library about The Drinking Gourd so we can read it again.
I wanted to post a video of this song so you can get a feel for it, but none of the ones on YouTube match the version we know best. I was excited, however, to see one there with images of Graue Mill in Hinsdale - a local stop on the underground railroad near my childhood home. We need to go there sometime to flesh out that part of our country's history and underscore the meaning of this shanty my kids sing.
How about in your home? What kind of songs does your family sing?
And so they did. Little Miss History, Timid Daughter and the Uber-Princess belted out The Drinking Gourd as solemnly, deeply, and loudly as three little white girls can.
"Follooooow...the dri inkin' goooourddd. Follooooooww...the dri inkin' gooourddd. The old man is a waitin' gonna carry you ta freedom..."
I laughed a moment to hear them sing such an unconventional song. But then I sobered up. I remembered the other night as we walked home from an evening program at school and the Uber-Princess looked up at the stars and asked me, "where is the Drinking Gourd, Mommy?".
She knows what it is, if not the significance of the song they sang today. We listen to this kind of music and we talk about it. They like to know. They like to learn. And so their daddy has been urging them to bring home the book from the school library about The Drinking Gourd so we can read it again.
I wanted to post a video of this song so you can get a feel for it, but none of the ones on YouTube match the version we know best. I was excited, however, to see one there with images of Graue Mill in Hinsdale - a local stop on the underground railroad near my childhood home. We need to go there sometime to flesh out that part of our country's history and underscore the meaning of this shanty my kids sing.
How about in your home? What kind of songs does your family sing?
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Pierced
Last summer we let LMH get her ears pierced. Nine years old seemed a little young to me, but she really wanted to and her father thought it would be fine. So I agreed. We all went as a family for the big event. She was brave. Her sisters were awed.
Fastforward to last month. Timid Daughter had been gleefully wearing the clip-on earrings she received for Christmas every time she could:not to the playground where they could get lost, not to school, not to church... And so she'd stare at her sister's ears and wistfully say, "I wish I could get my ears pierced". But she knew the rule: not until she was nine like her sister.
Unbeknownst to her, these mournful conversations were tugging at her father's heartstrings.
"We could get hers done now," he'd say to me. "It's a good time of year. No soccer to worry about."
And I'd shake my head and think, 'too young. Too young'. But before long, between his rational explanations and her reveries about life when she had pierced ears, I'd had my arm twisted. And so we trooped off to the mall again as a family. Timid Daughter got pierced ears...and so did the Uber-Princess.
"It's easier to just do them both at once. If you're taking care of one's ears, you can do the other just as well," Musing Dad had reasoned.
The Uber-Princess was excited to get hers done too. She picked out a demure pair of cubic zirconia studs. She climbed bravely up into the chair and sat perfectly still. She grimaced only slightly at the pain, then stared proudly in the mirror at her glittering ears.
All was well until the next day. Suddenly the sight of my baby with pierced ears wrenched at my heart. 'Too young! Too young!' I thought to myself. How can it be that this is my little baby? She looks so much older...and yet not.
It went that way for me for a few days as I mourned this simple rite of passage come too soon in our household. It is done. The girls are so happy. But if any mom out there has their young daughters asking for pierced ears, I caution you to think about it. There's always tomorrow or next year (or the year after even). Don't let them grow up too fast, even if it's just a simple hole in the ear.
Fastforward to last month. Timid Daughter had been gleefully wearing the clip-on earrings she received for Christmas every time she could:not to the playground where they could get lost, not to school, not to church... And so she'd stare at her sister's ears and wistfully say, "I wish I could get my ears pierced". But she knew the rule: not until she was nine like her sister.
Unbeknownst to her, these mournful conversations were tugging at her father's heartstrings.
"We could get hers done now," he'd say to me. "It's a good time of year. No soccer to worry about."
And I'd shake my head and think, 'too young. Too young'. But before long, between his rational explanations and her reveries about life when she had pierced ears, I'd had my arm twisted. And so we trooped off to the mall again as a family. Timid Daughter got pierced ears...and so did the Uber-Princess.
"It's easier to just do them both at once. If you're taking care of one's ears, you can do the other just as well," Musing Dad had reasoned.
The Uber-Princess was excited to get hers done too. She picked out a demure pair of cubic zirconia studs. She climbed bravely up into the chair and sat perfectly still. She grimaced only slightly at the pain, then stared proudly in the mirror at her glittering ears.
All was well until the next day. Suddenly the sight of my baby with pierced ears wrenched at my heart. 'Too young! Too young!' I thought to myself. How can it be that this is my little baby? She looks so much older...and yet not.
It went that way for me for a few days as I mourned this simple rite of passage come too soon in our household. It is done. The girls are so happy. But if any mom out there has their young daughters asking for pierced ears, I caution you to think about it. There's always tomorrow or next year (or the year after even). Don't let them grow up too fast, even if it's just a simple hole in the ear.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Five-Star Friday
I woke up with a question running through my brain this morning: what kind of day would it be? And along with that question came the thought: wouldn't it be nice if someone could preview our days for us and write up a handy review? That way we'd know whether we should get out of bed or just pull up the blankets and stay put.
A simple movie review format would work fine for me. Give me the star rating - on a scale of one to five, how would you rate this day? Is it a two-star day? A four-star? And maybe a quick recap of the highlights (without giving away any spoilers) would be a big help, not to mention the perspective that would come from hearing it summarized by an objective viewer.
It just seemed to me, in that early morning sleepy brain state, that it would make things so much easier. I could be prepared for the junk to come if I knew it was going to be one of those two-star kind of days - you know, lower my expectations right off the bat. And even if it started out rocky, knowing a day ultimately rated five stars would give me the courage to press on and perhaps give me a little bit of excited anticipation too.
So far today has been a five-star Friday. I wonder how it would have been if I'd known that this morning.
A simple movie review format would work fine for me. Give me the star rating - on a scale of one to five, how would you rate this day? Is it a two-star day? A four-star? And maybe a quick recap of the highlights (without giving away any spoilers) would be a big help, not to mention the perspective that would come from hearing it summarized by an objective viewer.
It just seemed to me, in that early morning sleepy brain state, that it would make things so much easier. I could be prepared for the junk to come if I knew it was going to be one of those two-star kind of days - you know, lower my expectations right off the bat. And even if it started out rocky, knowing a day ultimately rated five stars would give me the courage to press on and perhaps give me a little bit of excited anticipation too.
So far today has been a five-star Friday. I wonder how it would have been if I'd known that this morning.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Hobby Refound
I'm getting back into scrapbooking again after some months of being away from it. The past year or two has simply been a drudgery for me. It wasn't fun, only work. And with each month that I didn't scrap or did only a little I was that much "further behind". What kind of hobby is that, really? I mean, who wants to do something with that kind of setup? Do people with other hobbies ever "get behind"? C'mon on now! That just seems wrong to me.
So I picked up a new book at the recommendation of a friend: Photo Freedom. It is a scrapbooking organizing guide. And it is just what I needed. Instead of looking at photos just chronologically, you shift toward looking at them also thematically - which requires a different way of organizing. I've only just started, but already I'm feeling the weight lift. I'm beginning to realize that part of the drudgery was the fact that I kept doing the same thing over and over again: birthday page, Halloween page, Christmas page, Fourth of July, etc. For year after year of my kids lives I'd do the same thing (and three versions for each year no less!). Sure, it required some creativity to keep those pages fresh and different (no, I did not repeat the same page for each album), but let me tell you, it was still getting very, very dull.
Then I'd see all these creative pages either at scrapbook gatherings or in magazines or books. There were the ones where they show a kid doing the same thing at different ages, or collages of people or places. And I'd think to myself: that would be great to do if I could just come up with those kind of groups of pictures. Now I can! And I'm getting excited again.
So if you visit me any time soon - that mess on the dining room table is the raw material for this new creativity. I'm back in the scrapbooking saddle.
There's just one thing: I haven't actually scrapped a new page yet. But soon, very soon I'm going to and it will be just fabulous!
So I picked up a new book at the recommendation of a friend: Photo Freedom. It is a scrapbooking organizing guide. And it is just what I needed. Instead of looking at photos just chronologically, you shift toward looking at them also thematically - which requires a different way of organizing. I've only just started, but already I'm feeling the weight lift. I'm beginning to realize that part of the drudgery was the fact that I kept doing the same thing over and over again: birthday page, Halloween page, Christmas page, Fourth of July, etc. For year after year of my kids lives I'd do the same thing (and three versions for each year no less!). Sure, it required some creativity to keep those pages fresh and different (no, I did not repeat the same page for each album), but let me tell you, it was still getting very, very dull.
Then I'd see all these creative pages either at scrapbook gatherings or in magazines or books. There were the ones where they show a kid doing the same thing at different ages, or collages of people or places. And I'd think to myself: that would be great to do if I could just come up with those kind of groups of pictures. Now I can! And I'm getting excited again.
So if you visit me any time soon - that mess on the dining room table is the raw material for this new creativity. I'm back in the scrapbooking saddle.
There's just one thing: I haven't actually scrapped a new page yet. But soon, very soon I'm going to and it will be just fabulous!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Released Today: Hotel on the Corner of Bitter & Sweet
Today marks the release of Jamie Ford's first novel: Hotel on the Corner of Bitter & Sweet. I heard about this book through his agent as she shared on her blog different aspects of selling his book to the publisher. And somewhere along the line, probably through this agent again, I read an excerpt. It was fascinating! So take it from me (like I really know anything about it, but still), this promises to be a big book. I think Ford is one of those authors who is going somewhere (from what I can tell, he's the next Nicholas Sparks...or something like that). Now that it's been released I'm trying to figure out how and when I can get myself a copy.
In the meantime, if you're looking for some good reading, check it out. I don't know Jamie Ford. He's not paying me to push his book. All I'm in it for is the opportunity to say, "see? I told ya!".
In the meantime, if you're looking for some good reading, check it out. I don't know Jamie Ford. He's not paying me to push his book. All I'm in it for is the opportunity to say, "see? I told ya!".
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Sweet Good-byes
When you need bread where do you go? The bread store, right? I mean, where else would you get bread?
Oh, you say you get yours at the grocery store?
Yeah, me too. Only we used to get bread at the "bread store". Until yesterday, when Amusing Dad stopped there only to find the place shuttered - another victim to the current recession. It made me sad. There are a lot of fond memories for me because of the bread store.
Growing up, the Wonder Hostess Outlet was what my mom called "the bread store", because it was pretty much the only place she'd buy her bread. But she also bought things like Twinkies, Ding Dongs, Ho Ho's and Suzie Q's. We all loved to hear her saying she was making a trip to the bread store. When she got home our freezer would be loaded up with all these goodies and we could count on finding one in our lunch most days. And sometimes we (meaning me, although I'm pretty sure my siblings did the same thing) would sneek down to that freezer and pull out a frozen cupcake or other treat and eat it right then and there. Yup, frozen Ho Ho's might even be better than thawed.
By the time I got married I had forgotten about the bread store. It wasn't on my shopping route, nor did I find Suzie Q's and their ilk as appealing any more. But then one day my husband came home with a box of Twinkies and a guilty smile. He'd made a stop at the "bread store". I watched him put that box in the freezer with a quick explanation - they tasted better frozen. Aha! Another freezer Twinkie thief!
When his job took him to the other side of town, close to the Wonder Hostess outlet, we began to buy most of our bread there again. In fact I'd gotten used to calling him near the end of the work day to ask him to swing by for a loaf or two.
Suddenly those days are gone. No more cheap, but good Texas Toast. No more discount Ding Dongs and Ho Ho's.
I guess I can be thankful for one thing: my kids won't grow up being freezer Twinkie thieves.
Oh, you say you get yours at the grocery store?
Yeah, me too. Only we used to get bread at the "bread store". Until yesterday, when Amusing Dad stopped there only to find the place shuttered - another victim to the current recession. It made me sad. There are a lot of fond memories for me because of the bread store.
Growing up, the Wonder Hostess Outlet was what my mom called "the bread store", because it was pretty much the only place she'd buy her bread. But she also bought things like Twinkies, Ding Dongs, Ho Ho's and Suzie Q's. We all loved to hear her saying she was making a trip to the bread store. When she got home our freezer would be loaded up with all these goodies and we could count on finding one in our lunch most days. And sometimes we (meaning me, although I'm pretty sure my siblings did the same thing) would sneek down to that freezer and pull out a frozen cupcake or other treat and eat it right then and there. Yup, frozen Ho Ho's might even be better than thawed.
By the time I got married I had forgotten about the bread store. It wasn't on my shopping route, nor did I find Suzie Q's and their ilk as appealing any more. But then one day my husband came home with a box of Twinkies and a guilty smile. He'd made a stop at the "bread store". I watched him put that box in the freezer with a quick explanation - they tasted better frozen. Aha! Another freezer Twinkie thief!
When his job took him to the other side of town, close to the Wonder Hostess outlet, we began to buy most of our bread there again. In fact I'd gotten used to calling him near the end of the work day to ask him to swing by for a loaf or two.
Suddenly those days are gone. No more cheap, but good Texas Toast. No more discount Ding Dongs and Ho Ho's.
I guess I can be thankful for one thing: my kids won't grow up being freezer Twinkie thieves.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
From 60 to 0 in 2.5
We went to Disney World this week, home of immersive movies, beloved cartoon characters and fast-moving roller coasters. AMusing Dad didn't get to ride the Rockin' Roller Coaster at Hollywood Studios theme park, which boasts an impressive exceleration from 0 to 60 in something like 2.9 seconds. But that's okay, because Southwest Airlines gave us a ride to rival that one. We traveled from comfortable 60-degree Orlando to zero-degree (and now sub-zero) Chicago in only 2.5 hours. And let me tell you that the shock of that leaves you reeling much longer than the Rockin' Roller Coaster.
Thankfully we have a "snow day" due to the highly inclement weather to recover from it. And I'm hoping I charged my "warmth" battery enough to tough it through this artic spell.
Thankfully we have a "snow day" due to the highly inclement weather to recover from it. And I'm hoping I charged my "warmth" battery enough to tough it through this artic spell.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Resolved: Spend Less
Can you remember the last time you bought a candy bar for a quarter? That was the going rate for candy when I was a kid. And if you were lucky enough to have a quarter, there was a tiny shop in town called Jimmy's that had shelves upon shelves of candy and you could squeeze in there with your friends and pick out a treat.
Ah, memories! But guess what? I bought two candy bars today for 25 cents each! And I got a bottle of dish washing liquid for 55 cents. Two 100-count bottles of Exedrin cost me $6, but I received a $5 coupon in exchange. I'm finding the deals!
It's all part of my New Year's Resolution to cut our grocery bill by 30-40% this year. I'm feeling the need to cut costs, what with the economic uncertainty and my own bent toward thrift. It won't be easy, since I've always been one to shop the sales. But I'm feeling armed with the right tools to really make a difference. This year I'll be "Super-Couponing".
What's that you say? No, it's not cutting and cataloging all the Sunday coupons. That's too much work for nothing. I used to do that and was happy when I could save 10% using coupons at the discount grocer. Nope, Super-Couponing is much more savvy than that. It involves matching coupons to sales in order to cut costs or even earn money shopping. And I'm doing it with the help of some great web sites.
For starters, shoppers in Chicagoland can benefit from the Super-Couponing Queen, Jill Cataldo's advice. Then there's Coupon Mom who has lists for different stores in different states (plus the big Chains like WalMart & Target) that match up the current coupons and sales and show the percent savings on items listed in the current ads. To do your own coupon matchup, check out Coupon Tom's searchable database.
Two quick examples to show you the savings:
This week Jewel grocery store has a promotion going on where if you buy $30 of specific products you'll get coupons back for $15 on your next shopping trip.
I bought:
1-100 oz. bottle of Tide for $11.47 (rings up as $15.99 toward the $30)
minus $1.00 coupon
8 rolls of Bounty Paper Towels for $10.00 (rings up as $14.99 toward the $30)
minus $2.00 in coupon savings
Total Out of Pocket $20.03 plus $15 in savings on my next trip (in theory, the same as spending $5.03)
At Walgreen's I got:
Fructis Hair Styling Mousse (my favorite) for $2.99
less $2.00 Walgreen's coupon
less $1.00 mfr. coupon equals FREE
one box of Quaker Oats Instant Oatmeal for $3.59
less $1.60 Walgreen's Coupon
less $.70 mfr. coupon
one box of Electrasol tabs (20-ct) for $3.49
less $2.50 mfr. coupon
with $1.50 rebate coming (hence they "paid" me 50 cents for this one)
Colgate Toothpaste for $3.49
less $.75 coupon
take off the $5 coupon I had from a previous trip where I spent $14.85 & got $20 in coupons for future trips.
add one Christmas clearance glitter pen for 12 cents to bring me up into the positive before tax
Total out of pocket: $.71
Just on those two transactions I bought $50.97 of groceries for $20.74, with $15 to spend later.
I'm hoping this all brings me closer to that resolution (and closer to prices not last seen since the 1980's?).
Ah, memories! But guess what? I bought two candy bars today for 25 cents each! And I got a bottle of dish washing liquid for 55 cents. Two 100-count bottles of Exedrin cost me $6, but I received a $5 coupon in exchange. I'm finding the deals!
It's all part of my New Year's Resolution to cut our grocery bill by 30-40% this year. I'm feeling the need to cut costs, what with the economic uncertainty and my own bent toward thrift. It won't be easy, since I've always been one to shop the sales. But I'm feeling armed with the right tools to really make a difference. This year I'll be "Super-Couponing".
What's that you say? No, it's not cutting and cataloging all the Sunday coupons. That's too much work for nothing. I used to do that and was happy when I could save 10% using coupons at the discount grocer. Nope, Super-Couponing is much more savvy than that. It involves matching coupons to sales in order to cut costs or even earn money shopping. And I'm doing it with the help of some great web sites.
For starters, shoppers in Chicagoland can benefit from the Super-Couponing Queen, Jill Cataldo's advice. Then there's Coupon Mom who has lists for different stores in different states (plus the big Chains like WalMart & Target) that match up the current coupons and sales and show the percent savings on items listed in the current ads. To do your own coupon matchup, check out Coupon Tom's searchable database.
Two quick examples to show you the savings:
This week Jewel grocery store has a promotion going on where if you buy $30 of specific products you'll get coupons back for $15 on your next shopping trip.
I bought:
1-100 oz. bottle of Tide for $11.47 (rings up as $15.99 toward the $30)
minus $1.00 coupon
8 rolls of Bounty Paper Towels for $10.00 (rings up as $14.99 toward the $30)
minus $2.00 in coupon savings
Total Out of Pocket $20.03 plus $15 in savings on my next trip (in theory, the same as spending $5.03)
At Walgreen's I got:
Fructis Hair Styling Mousse (my favorite) for $2.99
less $2.00 Walgreen's coupon
less $1.00 mfr. coupon equals FREE
one box of Quaker Oats Instant Oatmeal for $3.59
less $1.60 Walgreen's Coupon
less $.70 mfr. coupon
one box of Electrasol tabs (20-ct) for $3.49
less $2.50 mfr. coupon
with $1.50 rebate coming (hence they "paid" me 50 cents for this one)
Colgate Toothpaste for $3.49
less $.75 coupon
take off the $5 coupon I had from a previous trip where I spent $14.85 & got $20 in coupons for future trips.
add one Christmas clearance glitter pen for 12 cents to bring me up into the positive before tax
Total out of pocket: $.71
Just on those two transactions I bought $50.97 of groceries for $20.74, with $15 to spend later.
I'm hoping this all brings me closer to that resolution (and closer to prices not last seen since the 1980's?).
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Twinkle Toes
I suppose you may have been wondering where I've been. Life has been oh so demanding during these past few weeks of winter break. I've had to help occupy my family by playing many rounds of Bananagrams. I've been baking gingerbread cookies and crafting cards, playing Mario Kart on the Wii and consuming endless calories of gingerbread cookies and other holiday goodies. Yes, I have been busy.
So naturally I was due for a break, which came yesterday in the form of a trip to the day spa with my friend, everydayMom. We went for pedicures, which is the most obvious choice for January in Chicagoland, no? After all, it's the time of year where my feet, encased in thick, wooly socks and shrouded in sheepskin-lined shoes never see the light of day. My toes get all wrinkled and pasty looking. Hence I'm desparate for colored nails to distract from their otherwise hideousness. Why this concern outside of sandal season? Two words: Wii Fit.
If you've never used this contraption, let me explain. Wii Fit uses a thing called a balance board, which you are required to stand on barefoot. Makes me shudder just to think about it. But thanks to last nights escapade (see everydayMom's post for more details), I am much more confident about baring my feet in the name of physical fitness.
Now if only I could do something about that thing called my "Wii Fit Age". This morning, after chastising me for neglecting to work out for one day, the machine downgraded me twenty years. Fifty-two?!! How can that be?
Well, at least my toes look young and vibrant!
So naturally I was due for a break, which came yesterday in the form of a trip to the day spa with my friend, everydayMom. We went for pedicures, which is the most obvious choice for January in Chicagoland, no? After all, it's the time of year where my feet, encased in thick, wooly socks and shrouded in sheepskin-lined shoes never see the light of day. My toes get all wrinkled and pasty looking. Hence I'm desparate for colored nails to distract from their otherwise hideousness. Why this concern outside of sandal season? Two words: Wii Fit.
If you've never used this contraption, let me explain. Wii Fit uses a thing called a balance board, which you are required to stand on barefoot. Makes me shudder just to think about it. But thanks to last nights escapade (see everydayMom's post for more details), I am much more confident about baring my feet in the name of physical fitness.
Now if only I could do something about that thing called my "Wii Fit Age". This morning, after chastising me for neglecting to work out for one day, the machine downgraded me twenty years. Fifty-two?!! How can that be?
Well, at least my toes look young and vibrant!
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Merry Christmas!
This morning, in the middle of opening gifts, the Uber-princess spontaneously broke out in song. We joined her in singing Happy Birthday to Jesus. That was one of the best gifts of the morning. A sweet card that described what she likes about each member of our family ("Smart is the word for my big sister. She knows cursive."), given to all of us by Timid Daughter ranks right up there too. And our girls' reaction when we asked them if it was a good Christmas, before letting them open up an uncharacteristically big family gift warmed my heart too - they were perfectly happy with the handful of smaller gifts they'd been given. It made me confident that giving them a big gift was a good decision - it wouldn't define Christmas for them, it would just enhance it.
I worry about those things - what the holiday will mean to our girls. I want the gifts to be an expression and illustration of the great gift we've already received in Jesus being born as God in the flesh. It honestly makes the enjoyment of all the material things that much sweeter. Christmas in our home is not made or broken by what is received - those things are the icing on the cake.
Knowing that they "got it" was freeing because I also delight to see my children enjoy receiving gifts. I want them to feel loved, and sometimes a gift is a good way to express that (for some, it is the best way to express that - see the Five Love Languages to learn more). This year I truly revelled in lavishing a big gift on them. I loved to see them shrieking and jumping in excitement over such an unexpected gift. There is Christmas in that - the showing of deep love through an extravagant gift, a costly gift. People quote John 3:16 so often that we get numbed to this. Today I felt it anew, the abundant love expressed at Christmas: "For God so loved the world, that He gave His one and only Son..."
I worry about those things - what the holiday will mean to our girls. I want the gifts to be an expression and illustration of the great gift we've already received in Jesus being born as God in the flesh. It honestly makes the enjoyment of all the material things that much sweeter. Christmas in our home is not made or broken by what is received - those things are the icing on the cake.
Knowing that they "got it" was freeing because I also delight to see my children enjoy receiving gifts. I want them to feel loved, and sometimes a gift is a good way to express that (for some, it is the best way to express that - see the Five Love Languages to learn more). This year I truly revelled in lavishing a big gift on them. I loved to see them shrieking and jumping in excitement over such an unexpected gift. There is Christmas in that - the showing of deep love through an extravagant gift, a costly gift. People quote John 3:16 so often that we get numbed to this. Today I felt it anew, the abundant love expressed at Christmas: "For God so loved the world, that He gave His one and only Son..."
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Now That's A New One
I had the chance to sit in on the preschool lesson in church this past Sunday. My little group of two-year-olds and I marched in and found ourselves a spot on the squishy mats in back and settled in to watch the big kids. Much as the two's are sweet and adorable (some of the time), often their older preschool counterparts can be even more of a hoot and both the two-year-olds and I relish taking in their antics. This week was no exception.
As is to be expected in December, the teacher had prepared a fun lesson about the angel's announcement to Mary and to Joseph. So to get the kids in the spirit of things she opened with this question:
"What do we celebrate at Christmas?"
A boy of about four or five years immediately shot his hand in the air.
"I know! I know!" he said.
The teacher pointed to him and asked for his response.
He said, "We celebrate when Santa died."
Ummm... Yeah. Well, they've got a few more weeks to help that little guy out. And bless his heart, he definitely was sincere.
As is to be expected in December, the teacher had prepared a fun lesson about the angel's announcement to Mary and to Joseph. So to get the kids in the spirit of things she opened with this question:
"What do we celebrate at Christmas?"
A boy of about four or five years immediately shot his hand in the air.
"I know! I know!" he said.
The teacher pointed to him and asked for his response.
He said, "We celebrate when Santa died."
Ummm... Yeah. Well, they've got a few more weeks to help that little guy out. And bless his heart, he definitely was sincere.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Freedom!!!
Aaaaah! Did you hear the big sigh of relief that emanated from my house yesterday afternoon? I fulfilled the last of my outside commitments for 2008 yesterday morning. And in the process I reached the big goal I set for myself in January. I am free!
No more speaking engagements or radio interviews to prepare for. No more articles to be submitted. No more volunteer commitments to remember. No more meetings to attend. While I enjoy doing all those things, the pace of ordinary life makes a commitment-free couple of weeks feel very good. Yes, I am free!
I am free to shop for the 15 or so remaining Christmas gifts on my list. I am free to address 90 to 100 christmas cards. I am free to bake batches upon batches of Christmas cookies. I am free to wrap those dozens of gifts hidden in the corners and closets. I am free to catch up on the 75 emails that have accumulated in my inbox. I am free to write the December newsletter that should have gone out a week and a half ago. I am free to finish the last chapter of the novel I wrote in November.
I'm also free to: catch up on the books on my reading list, play board games with my kids, have lunch with a friend or two or three, celebrate writing a novel in a month, take a nap every now and then, get in the workouts that I've been saying I would since April, take my girls to see HSM3 (which they have been begging me to do for more than a month), write more than one blog post a week, and just simply enjoy the extra space on my calendar.
Can I tell you what I love the most about the last few weeks of the year? All the freedom!
No more speaking engagements or radio interviews to prepare for. No more articles to be submitted. No more volunteer commitments to remember. No more meetings to attend. While I enjoy doing all those things, the pace of ordinary life makes a commitment-free couple of weeks feel very good. Yes, I am free!
I am free to shop for the 15 or so remaining Christmas gifts on my list. I am free to address 90 to 100 christmas cards. I am free to bake batches upon batches of Christmas cookies. I am free to wrap those dozens of gifts hidden in the corners and closets. I am free to catch up on the 75 emails that have accumulated in my inbox. I am free to write the December newsletter that should have gone out a week and a half ago. I am free to finish the last chapter of the novel I wrote in November.
I'm also free to: catch up on the books on my reading list, play board games with my kids, have lunch with a friend or two or three, celebrate writing a novel in a month, take a nap every now and then, get in the workouts that I've been saying I would since April, take my girls to see HSM3 (which they have been begging me to do for more than a month), write more than one blog post a week, and just simply enjoy the extra space on my calendar.
Can I tell you what I love the most about the last few weeks of the year? All the freedom!
Monday, December 01, 2008
November by the Numbers
57,397 words written
100's of games of Solitaire played in avoidance of writing
48 hours of butt-in-chair, must-get-this-done effort made (roughly)
12's (dozens) of cups of tea and hot chocolate consumed
10 fingers worked to the bone
9 different disasters incorporated into the plot (give or take a few)
8 copies of the draft sent by email as back-up
7 characters insinuated themselves into A Musing Mom's life
6 or more blog posts never got written
4 family members made room for writing time
3 "write-ins" attended
2 hands and arms ached from the rigors of endless typing
...all in the pursuit of ONE novel (in rough draft form).
100's of games of Solitaire played in avoidance of writing
48 hours of butt-in-chair, must-get-this-done effort made (roughly)
12's (dozens) of cups of tea and hot chocolate consumed
10 fingers worked to the bone
9 different disasters incorporated into the plot (give or take a few)
8 copies of the draft sent by email as back-up
7 characters insinuated themselves into A Musing Mom's life
6 or more blog posts never got written
4 family members made room for writing time
3 "write-ins" attended
2 hands and arms ached from the rigors of endless typing
...all in the pursuit of ONE novel (in rough draft form).
Monday, November 24, 2008
Word Counts
I dreamt about word counts last night. I'm on the home stretch toward meeting the NaNoWriMo goal of 50,000 words in 30 days. So I've been clocking in a few hundred words before going to bed many nights. And yesterday I spent a few hours before that at a write-in with other NaNo folks. No wonder the dreams about word counts then, eh?
Reminds me of a statistic I learned during sessions with our pastor in preparing for marriage. It went something like this: men have an average of 500 words they will use during a given day; women have a 27,000-word quota. Therefore, what often happens is this: the husband arrives home at the end of his work day and all of his words have been spent. But the wife, particularly if she is a stay-at-home-mommy to a little one still has approximately 26,975 words left and only a few hours in which to use them. She will start firing them off rapidly as soon as her honey walks in the door and can continue on unabated for the remainder of the evening, if allowed. She has no fear of running out of words, she fears running out of time.
In this word-count driven month I'm living, I drift back to those statistics often. And I wonder - do writers have these kind of limitations? If I press to write more than 4,500 words in one day, will I run out? Or do I have a global word count limit that I am rapidly approaching and which is set to be reached right at about three quarters of the way through the final chapter of my novel? Will my written word-count limit be replenished daily the way verbal limits seem to be?
Not a lot of deep thought here tonight. Just my way of saying, I'm still here. I'm still writing. It's just that this pesky novel is eating up a good amount of my word quota and not leaving much for y'all. I've stolen these few to have something to share today.
What are your thoughts on word limits? Do you have children that seem to have widely varying needs in terms of daily word expenditure? Do you and your husband match the statistics or is one (or both) of you an anomoly? Feel free to share your thoughts. As far as I know there are no limits to word intake, especially when it comes to listening.
Reminds me of a statistic I learned during sessions with our pastor in preparing for marriage. It went something like this: men have an average of 500 words they will use during a given day; women have a 27,000-word quota. Therefore, what often happens is this: the husband arrives home at the end of his work day and all of his words have been spent. But the wife, particularly if she is a stay-at-home-mommy to a little one still has approximately 26,975 words left and only a few hours in which to use them. She will start firing them off rapidly as soon as her honey walks in the door and can continue on unabated for the remainder of the evening, if allowed. She has no fear of running out of words, she fears running out of time.
In this word-count driven month I'm living, I drift back to those statistics often. And I wonder - do writers have these kind of limitations? If I press to write more than 4,500 words in one day, will I run out? Or do I have a global word count limit that I am rapidly approaching and which is set to be reached right at about three quarters of the way through the final chapter of my novel? Will my written word-count limit be replenished daily the way verbal limits seem to be?
Not a lot of deep thought here tonight. Just my way of saying, I'm still here. I'm still writing. It's just that this pesky novel is eating up a good amount of my word quota and not leaving much for y'all. I've stolen these few to have something to share today.
What are your thoughts on word limits? Do you have children that seem to have widely varying needs in terms of daily word expenditure? Do you and your husband match the statistics or is one (or both) of you an anomoly? Feel free to share your thoughts. As far as I know there are no limits to word intake, especially when it comes to listening.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
When I saw this sign on our vacation last month I was tempted to buy it. How true, huh?
Well, that was more than a month ago. And you might be thinking that since I'm 18 days into my noveling frenzy that it would be truer than ever. I've spent tens of hours at my computer and typed more than 73 single-spaced pages, totalling over 30,000 words. I've downed dozens of cups of hot chocolate (sorry, coffee makes me edgy late at night) and scribbled notes on stacks of index cards. I'm on track to finish at least a 50,000-word novel by November 30th.
So it would be so easy right now to play on your sympathy and tell you how my children are starved for attention, my freezer is empty and the dust bunnies are growing in greater numbers than my word count. I could act like my wrists are screaming in pain from carpal tunnel and my back is aching from hunching over my computer. I could moan about the rigors of dealing with uncooperative characters and plot holes as big as Manhattan.
But it would all be a lie (okay, so my whole left arm is inflamed and the fingers on my left hand occasionally feel numb, plus the dust bunny part is kinda true). Over the past eighteen days I've fed my children and gotten them off to school, cooked, cleaned, done laundry, been on two radio interviews and done two speaking engagements, hung out with friends and... Well, I've pretty much done everything I'd normally be doing. Then instead of spending my evenings reading a book, playing solitaire or getting beat at some game by my husband, I've retreated to my den and spent an hour and a half writing. Add in some bigger chunks of writing on the weekend and it totals up to over 30,000 words so far.
Think about it: how many goals or tasks have you seen as so monumental that you never even attempted them? How many things could you achieve if you committed yourself to baby steps every day? I'm beginning to see that probably many of life's big accomplishments were reached though a series of regular everyday baby steps.
What's your big dream? What's your next goal? And what will you do today and the day after that and the day after that until you achieve it?
Me? I'm going to keep on setting my rear on my chair in the den for the next twelve days in hopes of crossing the NaNo finish line. When I get there I plan to have a celebration - it just won't be at my house. Too many dust bunnies for that.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Teacher Gifts
Every year I make (or assemble) gifts for my children's teachers. Every year I work with one idea and use it for all three of my daughters' teachers. It's easier to focus on one single concept and I've found economies of scale in terms of cost and time by doing it this way. This year's teacher gift? A footed serving plate made by gluing a tapered candle holder to a china salad plate (or other nice plate). I have given this gift before and returned to it because it is a timeless gift and turns out very classy for little money. We searched outlet stores and thrift stores to find our plates and the candle holders came from garage sales (and polished up very nicely). A little china glue on the rim of the candle holder and we were in business. I'll just add some homemade cookies or candy before wrapping them up. And since they're done so early, we may not wait until December to give them (that way their teachers can use them for the holidays).
Works for me! How about you. For more Works for Me Wednesday ideas check out Rocks In My Dryer.
Saturday, November 08, 2008
Mistaking Model For Formula
In life there are models to be imitated and formulas to be followed. One guarantees a specific result, the other guarantees nothing. And this is an important distinction. Make the mistake of thinking you are following a formula when you're just imitating a model can lead you to a lot of frustration and heartache. I know. I'm there.
One of the hallmarks of the United States is our adherence to "the great American dream", the model of hard work leading to success. It is a beautiful model, with some wonderful stories to support it. Personally I love the story told in the movie Pursuit of Happyness. It is a heartwarming tear-jerker about a down on his luck salesman who risks all his life savings to pursue a career in the stock market. His wife leaves him and he and his son live on the streets while he pursues this dream. In the end he succeeds and winds up owning his own firm, becoming a millionaire. What I love most about this story is that it's true.
Here's the catch: a lot of people (myself included) derive a formula from this model. It goes something like this: hard work plus determination equals success (HW+D=S). We think that if we work hard and persist at working hard that finally what we are working toward will come to us. And we're tricked into thinking this is a guaranteed result by the people around us who do just that - who work hard and get rewarded for it. Thankfully most places of employment in this country operate on that model.
The marketplace on the other hand does not. Should someone decide to self-publish a book a year ago, with the thought of launching it at a national conference for an organization that should be happy to support it, they will find that life is not so easy. The book will not arrive in time for the conference. The organization will not even acknowledge the copies sent to its leaders. Someone might then remember the "determination" part of the equation and persist in trying to get the book out there, going way beyond her natural bents and inclinations. She may work many hours and seek a variety of venues to sell the book. When single copy sells here and a dozen friends are kind enough to buy copies there, someone celebrates these tiny successes and reminds herself that it's going to take more determination. And she continues on.
In the meantime around her are these models of success that fool her into thinking that if she just works harder and persists longer her success will come too. A friend bithely self-publishes and sells more in a couple of weeks than someone has in over a year. And someone wonders what she has done wrong, how much harder, how much longer she needs to go at it before she'll succeed. Until she finally sees her error.
It's not a formula. It's a model. Like many people in this country right now, she's seeing that it's a broken model. It simply does not work any more. Then she remembers a visit to Springfield last month. She remembers standing in front of a time line of President Lincoln's life and pointing out to her daughter the large string of failures he had before becoming President of the United States. Maybe that's the current model: expect failure - lots of it.
I just don't know whether I'd say to expect success to come along later. It just might not.
Post Script: Literary agent, Terry Whalin, addresses the tough nature of "success" in the world of books and publishing today on his blog, without suggesting one should throw in the towel. And he gives some more examples along the lines of what I said about Lincoln. I might just need a new dose of determination here. That and a revised perspective (thank you, everydayMom).
One of the hallmarks of the United States is our adherence to "the great American dream", the model of hard work leading to success. It is a beautiful model, with some wonderful stories to support it. Personally I love the story told in the movie Pursuit of Happyness. It is a heartwarming tear-jerker about a down on his luck salesman who risks all his life savings to pursue a career in the stock market. His wife leaves him and he and his son live on the streets while he pursues this dream. In the end he succeeds and winds up owning his own firm, becoming a millionaire. What I love most about this story is that it's true.
Here's the catch: a lot of people (myself included) derive a formula from this model. It goes something like this: hard work plus determination equals success (HW+D=S). We think that if we work hard and persist at working hard that finally what we are working toward will come to us. And we're tricked into thinking this is a guaranteed result by the people around us who do just that - who work hard and get rewarded for it. Thankfully most places of employment in this country operate on that model.
The marketplace on the other hand does not. Should someone decide to self-publish a book a year ago, with the thought of launching it at a national conference for an organization that should be happy to support it, they will find that life is not so easy. The book will not arrive in time for the conference. The organization will not even acknowledge the copies sent to its leaders. Someone might then remember the "determination" part of the equation and persist in trying to get the book out there, going way beyond her natural bents and inclinations. She may work many hours and seek a variety of venues to sell the book. When single copy sells here and a dozen friends are kind enough to buy copies there, someone celebrates these tiny successes and reminds herself that it's going to take more determination. And she continues on.
In the meantime around her are these models of success that fool her into thinking that if she just works harder and persists longer her success will come too. A friend bithely self-publishes and sells more in a couple of weeks than someone has in over a year. And someone wonders what she has done wrong, how much harder, how much longer she needs to go at it before she'll succeed. Until she finally sees her error.
It's not a formula. It's a model. Like many people in this country right now, she's seeing that it's a broken model. It simply does not work any more. Then she remembers a visit to Springfield last month. She remembers standing in front of a time line of President Lincoln's life and pointing out to her daughter the large string of failures he had before becoming President of the United States. Maybe that's the current model: expect failure - lots of it.
I just don't know whether I'd say to expect success to come along later. It just might not.
Post Script: Literary agent, Terry Whalin, addresses the tough nature of "success" in the world of books and publishing today on his blog, without suggesting one should throw in the towel. And he gives some more examples along the lines of what I said about Lincoln. I might just need a new dose of determination here. That and a revised perspective (thank you, everydayMom).
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
NaNoWriMo Update
Yeah, I know it's only a few days into the month, so what possibly could there be said at this juncture about my stunning work of creative brilliance? Not much really, except that it is historical fiction (or perhaps hysterical since I've engaged in a minimal amount of research about the time period in which it occurs) and I'm over 9,000 words into it. I'm feeling like it was wise to go all out in the beginning here because the more words I have done, the more I feel like I'm committed to this mammoth undertaking.
It's been fun to hear of other writer friends taking up the challenge with me. I think that is part of what makes NaNoWriMo such a great adventure: the thrill of "competition" and the company that such misery requires. That said, I can't figure out the NaNoWriMo buddy system, so instead I invite anyone who'd like to buddy up with me to add me to their NaNoWriMo buddy list. Here is a link to my user profile for you to do that (Llama Momma, the one I previously gave you I've ditched. Sorry): http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/436784 .
All you non-writers, don't worry, I have other non-writing thoughts I plan to share in the next few days. In the meantime I have some wild beasts to fend off and some hungry characters to feed.
It's been fun to hear of other writer friends taking up the challenge with me. I think that is part of what makes NaNoWriMo such a great adventure: the thrill of "competition" and the company that such misery requires. That said, I can't figure out the NaNoWriMo buddy system, so instead I invite anyone who'd like to buddy up with me to add me to their NaNoWriMo buddy list. Here is a link to my user profile for you to do that (Llama Momma, the one I previously gave you I've ditched. Sorry): http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/436784 .
All you non-writers, don't worry, I have other non-writing thoughts I plan to share in the next few days. In the meantime I have some wild beasts to fend off and some hungry characters to feed.
Friday, October 31, 2008
On the Brink of...
a great adventure! At least that's what I keep telling myself. You see, I decided it was time to keep a promise I made to myself a very long time ago. I promised that one day I would write a novel. Well, I'm not sure what I was thinking when I made that promise because I'm pretty sure it's impossible to write an entire novel in a day. So I'm fudging a little and instead I'm going to write a novel in a month. A whole novel. In one month.
I'm sure it sounds a bit nutty to some of you. Or a bit amazing to others. I liken it to running a marathon, except not so hard on the knees. It's the stuff we dream of or talk about or joke about, as in "yeah, maybe someday I'll write a novel". Thing is, someday doesn't ever seem to be today. So Chris Baty and the folks at NaNoWriMo (that's National Novel Writing Month for the uninitiated) offer up the opportunity to make the thirty days of November into that "someday". And this year I'm joining them.
If I can somehow get technology to cooperate, I hope to have a word-counter statistics graph posted here so you can keep track of my progress. The goal is 50,000 words by November 30th. If you do the math that's 1,667 words per day, or about one and a half hours of solid writing daily.
I'll be living large in the world of my characters during November. Chasing a dream. Hopefully I'll be one of those who makes it across the finish line. If not, I plan to have fun trying.
I'm sure it sounds a bit nutty to some of you. Or a bit amazing to others. I liken it to running a marathon, except not so hard on the knees. It's the stuff we dream of or talk about or joke about, as in "yeah, maybe someday I'll write a novel". Thing is, someday doesn't ever seem to be today. So Chris Baty and the folks at NaNoWriMo (that's National Novel Writing Month for the uninitiated) offer up the opportunity to make the thirty days of November into that "someday". And this year I'm joining them.
If I can somehow get technology to cooperate, I hope to have a word-counter statistics graph posted here so you can keep track of my progress. The goal is 50,000 words by November 30th. If you do the math that's 1,667 words per day, or about one and a half hours of solid writing daily.
I'll be living large in the world of my characters during November. Chasing a dream. Hopefully I'll be one of those who makes it across the finish line. If not, I plan to have fun trying.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Playdate Problems
Yesterday Timid Daughter had a wonderful first playdate with her "best friend". They have long hung out on the playground at school and TD has spoken glowingly of this friend. But an attempt last year at an extracurricular playdate failed.
This school year, despite them not being in the same class, their friendship has flourished even more. So we decided to make another attempt at a playdate. TD phoned the friend and set up a playdate for this past Sunday. On Friday at school we bid the friend goodbye with excited words about the upcoming playdate being exchanged.
On Sunday we arrived home from church to a phone message wondering when the friend should come. I returned the call (merely 15 minutes after it had been left) and got an answering machine myself. I left a message about the time we'd planned originally. That time came and went. I phoned and left another message. Still the friend did not come. TD phoned also and left a message. No friend.
Suddenly memories from several years ago of a playdate gone bad for LMH raced through my mind. She had been asking for weeks to have this friend over. So I phoned and made arrangements. The day of the playdate came and the friend did not come. I phoned the house and left a message. Still no friend. Finally, in desperation to save the day for my daughter we called another friend - her best friend - to see if she could play instead. LMH's best friend could not play because the little girl that was supposed to be at our house was instead at hers. I immediately explained to the mom what had happened on our end. And she shared that they had just called the girl that afternoon and she agreed to come over (even though she'd told my daughter that very day that she'd be coming to our house). Needless to say, both that mom and I decided the little girl who had stood my daughter up for a better offer was no longer welcome in our homes for playdates.
Last Sunday my stomach was in knots over the thought that this could be happening again. After dinner the phone finally rang with a call from the girl's sister. They had gone out for the day, could she come another time? Despite the shakey circumstances, I jumped at the chance to salvage things. And salvage I did. The two girls had the best time yesterday and I hope that they continue to be friends and play together outside of school for years to come. Because I don't think I could handle it any other way.
This school year, despite them not being in the same class, their friendship has flourished even more. So we decided to make another attempt at a playdate. TD phoned the friend and set up a playdate for this past Sunday. On Friday at school we bid the friend goodbye with excited words about the upcoming playdate being exchanged.
On Sunday we arrived home from church to a phone message wondering when the friend should come. I returned the call (merely 15 minutes after it had been left) and got an answering machine myself. I left a message about the time we'd planned originally. That time came and went. I phoned and left another message. Still the friend did not come. TD phoned also and left a message. No friend.
Suddenly memories from several years ago of a playdate gone bad for LMH raced through my mind. She had been asking for weeks to have this friend over. So I phoned and made arrangements. The day of the playdate came and the friend did not come. I phoned the house and left a message. Still no friend. Finally, in desperation to save the day for my daughter we called another friend - her best friend - to see if she could play instead. LMH's best friend could not play because the little girl that was supposed to be at our house was instead at hers. I immediately explained to the mom what had happened on our end. And she shared that they had just called the girl that afternoon and she agreed to come over (even though she'd told my daughter that very day that she'd be coming to our house). Needless to say, both that mom and I decided the little girl who had stood my daughter up for a better offer was no longer welcome in our homes for playdates.
Last Sunday my stomach was in knots over the thought that this could be happening again. After dinner the phone finally rang with a call from the girl's sister. They had gone out for the day, could she come another time? Despite the shakey circumstances, I jumped at the chance to salvage things. And salvage I did. The two girls had the best time yesterday and I hope that they continue to be friends and play together outside of school for years to come. Because I don't think I could handle it any other way.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Any Maids Looking for Work?
Combine one five-day weekend, including a trip out of town, with one laptop in need of a tiny repair that the repair folks turn into a much bigger deal. Result? AMusing Mom is all out of internet sorts.
I function very well with routine. Disrupt that routine and I'm honestly lost. I need to have my Monday through Friday "work week" with it's attendant flow of events. I need to have my laptop environment, complete with flexibility to work at the kitchen table while the Uber-Princess plays in the next room. I need my Simpleology to do list and my inbox folders for sorting email. Otherwise my ability to navigate the complex world of cyberspace and even the simple world of my little home just fizzles.
Enough about my virtual absence. Here's a quick story for you to show that my youngest child still deserves the title "Uber-Princess":
Last night, after a round of torturous room cleaning, which precluded having any dessert, she climbed into bed with a bit of grumbling.
Then she turned her round eyes up to me and said, "I wish I had a maid".
"Why?" I asked.
"If I had a maid, then I could just leave my things on the floor and she could put them away".
Who can argue with that? That's my Uber-Princess... And I think I'd like to be the Uber-Queen.
I function very well with routine. Disrupt that routine and I'm honestly lost. I need to have my Monday through Friday "work week" with it's attendant flow of events. I need to have my laptop environment, complete with flexibility to work at the kitchen table while the Uber-Princess plays in the next room. I need my Simpleology to do list and my inbox folders for sorting email. Otherwise my ability to navigate the complex world of cyberspace and even the simple world of my little home just fizzles.
Enough about my virtual absence. Here's a quick story for you to show that my youngest child still deserves the title "Uber-Princess":
Last night, after a round of torturous room cleaning, which precluded having any dessert, she climbed into bed with a bit of grumbling.
Then she turned her round eyes up to me and said, "I wish I had a maid".
"Why?" I asked.
"If I had a maid, then I could just leave my things on the floor and she could put them away".
Who can argue with that? That's my Uber-Princess... And I think I'd like to be the Uber-Queen.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Nobody's Mom is in 4th Grade
I love that the second grade teachers at my children's school bring out the book Nobody's Mother is in Second Grade during the first few weeks of the school year. It really communicates the idea of personal responsibility quite clearly. And it's a handy tool for me to refer back to when my children want to blame me for something they should have remembered.
Like today, when I reminded my fourth grader that it was her job to remember her flute on Tuesdays for band. Even though I brought it to her last week, I explained that doing so was an act of grace. It wouldn't happen again because...nobody's mother is in fourth grade. She nodded and agreed that it was her responsibility. And I smiled to see the flute grasped firmly in one of her hands as we headed off to school.
Then I stopped to chat with another band mom on the playground. Yes, remembering to bring her flute was an issue with her daughter also. We both commented that: isn't it great that we can pull out the whole "nobody's mother..." line, instead of allowing our kids to blame us. Oh yes, we are both very hopeful that our children are being taught well about responsibility and taking care of the things that fall to them. The load on our fourth graders seems to be getting tougher, but we are so proud of them and confident they'll continue to shoulder more and more responsibility. Definitely, things are going well this school year. Yes, they are!
And this musing mom (who isn't in fourth grade) walked blithely back to her home, glad for the strides her young ones are taking. Glad, that is, until she saw the blinking light on the answering machine.
"Mom, I forgot my lunch. Can you bring it over before 11:30?", came the fourth grade voice.
Now I don't know who Nobody is, but since their mom is in second grade, maybe she could take this lunch to school with her to pass along to my daughter... just so long as she doesn't point out the pudding and fruit snacks that seem to somehow have mysteriously disappeared from it.
Sigh... What grade aren't you in?
Friday, October 03, 2008
I have my music
It took me months of saving my allowance and paper route money to get my first Sony Walkman. It was a cutting edge piece of electronics at the time. Not only did it play tapes, but it also had an FM cassette device for listening to the radio. I had that walkman for years, and in typical teenager fashion, used it a lot.
In recent years, however, the concept of personal music had all but disappeared for me. My "current" walkman sat untouched at the bottom of a drawer, the headphones long missing. Keeping an ear out for babies and toddlers made them unworkable. In fact, even my house radio often stayed silent during the day because so often my children's conversational voices were too soft to hear above the music. I found myself turning it off every time I wanted to talk to them. Then in the evenings my husband would dominate the radio dial. Even if I liked what I was hearing, it wasn't very often that it was my music playing.
But I had no idea what I was missing until this week. I now have an iPod. I don't have much music loaded on it yet, but no matter. You see, I have also discovered Pandora. Oh the joys of creating your own "stations" and listening to music that you had forgotten you liked! It was pure bliss to put in my ear buds the other night and snuggle under the covers with the sounds of Gordon Lightfoot serenading me. I like my iPod and I love being able to listen to my music on occasion. Tonight I'll join my husband in listening to Mountain Stage on the house stereo. But maybe tomorrow I'll plug back in and rock out to Outfield or chill to George Winston.
How about you? What are you listening to these days?
In recent years, however, the concept of personal music had all but disappeared for me. My "current" walkman sat untouched at the bottom of a drawer, the headphones long missing. Keeping an ear out for babies and toddlers made them unworkable. In fact, even my house radio often stayed silent during the day because so often my children's conversational voices were too soft to hear above the music. I found myself turning it off every time I wanted to talk to them. Then in the evenings my husband would dominate the radio dial. Even if I liked what I was hearing, it wasn't very often that it was my music playing.
But I had no idea what I was missing until this week. I now have an iPod. I don't have much music loaded on it yet, but no matter. You see, I have also discovered Pandora. Oh the joys of creating your own "stations" and listening to music that you had forgotten you liked! It was pure bliss to put in my ear buds the other night and snuggle under the covers with the sounds of Gordon Lightfoot serenading me. I like my iPod and I love being able to listen to my music on occasion. Tonight I'll join my husband in listening to Mountain Stage on the house stereo. But maybe tomorrow I'll plug back in and rock out to Outfield or chill to George Winston.
How about you? What are you listening to these days?
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Ta Daaa!
Okay, so I kind of feel like I do when I get a really cute new haircut. There's that whole feeling of "will anyone notice" and "will they like it", combined with the "I don't care, because I LOVE it" attitude. And then there's the surreptitious looking in the mirror, trying to steal glances at different angles, marveling that it's really still me under that glorious 'do.
Yes, it's still me, A Musing Mom, just sporting a new look. The new design was a birthday gift from LMH & Timid Daughter, which I asked for partly for fun and partly because it fits my clutter-free/less clutter gift desires (which totally do not apply to clothes because they hardly take up space at all, right Mom?).
Don't you think George & Ashley of Tekeme Studios did an awesome job? If you need a new 'do - I mean blog or website design, check them out.
Me? I'm going back to stealing glancesin the mirror at my blog page.
Yes, it's still me, A Musing Mom, just sporting a new look. The new design was a birthday gift from LMH & Timid Daughter, which I asked for partly for fun and partly because it fits my clutter-free/less clutter gift desires (which totally do not apply to clothes because they hardly take up space at all, right Mom?).
Don't you think George & Ashley of Tekeme Studios did an awesome job? If you need a new 'do - I mean blog or website design, check them out.
Me? I'm going back to stealing glances
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
GPS for Real Moms
I got a great gift for my birthday from A Musing Dad: a GPS. How awesome is that? No more getting turned around and having to backtrack when I'm trying to find a new place. No more trying to read the MapQuest printout while scanning street signs and wishing my perfectly able-bodied nine-year-old could sit in the front seat and help me navigate. But even better: no more wondering where exactly the nearest gas station would be. I do this even in my own stomping grounds.
I love, love, love the long list of "nearby points of interest" that are available at my fingertips: banks, libraries, police stations (very, very important from a safety standpoint), places of worship... Yet already I find that the makers of the Garmin Nuvi have neglected the item of utmost importance to every mom of preschoolers...the restroom!
Could you imagine how much better life would be if, in that moment of panic when your child realizes they've waited too long, you could respond calmly to the desperate plea of "I have to go potty. Nooooowww!"? Imagine your poise as you deftly tap your GPS screen and select under the "nearby places of interest", the words "public restroom", then select the best option and peacefully guide your child (with the help of the pleasant GPS navigator voice) to the absolute closest public restroom.
Yep, the GPS market, which is already on fire, would fairly explode were they to make that simple modification and market it as a mommy map. Add in places for nursing in privacy, or places to hide a toddler having a meltdown...
You think Garmin will be calling me soon to ask me to consult on this new project? 'Cuz I have a few more ideas. Now if only they'd create an option for locating your GPS device. Where did I put that thing, anyway?
I love, love, love the long list of "nearby points of interest" that are available at my fingertips: banks, libraries, police stations (very, very important from a safety standpoint), places of worship... Yet already I find that the makers of the Garmin Nuvi have neglected the item of utmost importance to every mom of preschoolers...the restroom!
Could you imagine how much better life would be if, in that moment of panic when your child realizes they've waited too long, you could respond calmly to the desperate plea of "I have to go potty. Nooooowww!"? Imagine your poise as you deftly tap your GPS screen and select under the "nearby places of interest", the words "public restroom", then select the best option and peacefully guide your child (with the help of the pleasant GPS navigator voice) to the absolute closest public restroom.
Yep, the GPS market, which is already on fire, would fairly explode were they to make that simple modification and market it as a mommy map. Add in places for nursing in privacy, or places to hide a toddler having a meltdown...
You think Garmin will be calling me soon to ask me to consult on this new project? 'Cuz I have a few more ideas. Now if only they'd create an option for locating your GPS device. Where did I put that thing, anyway?
Saturday, September 20, 2008
To Mom & Dad
on the Fortieth Anniversary of your entry in to parenthood...
(St. Margaret Hospital, September 1968)
I imagine you there at the nursery window, Mom in a wheelchair, Dad standing behind her. You hold hands tight and stare through the glass at the all-too-tiny baby. She sleeps, safely cocooned within the protective walls of the incubator. Her wispy fingers curl in fists and her delicate chest heaves up and down. Her skin is pale, almost translucent, adding to the fragile aura about her, this October baby come in September.
A nurse sees you at the window and goes over to the glass incubator. She carefully reaches in and lifts the little baby girl for you to see. Almost immediately her tiny mouth opens in a cry and you start in surprise again. She's here. Already. Too soon. You think over the past hours, the past days. Mom-to-be, admitted to the hospital for toxemia, dad-to-be continuing to work. And then THAT day, the day the baby arrives. The messages to Dad that his baby is coming don't get passed along. Mom goes through labor, wondering if he is there waiting, and wondering how her baby will be.
At that nursery window your minds race with prayers for this little preemie. Prayers of gratitude for her wholeness, her health... and prayers that she'll stay safe and well. Prayers that soon she will come home with you where you can hold her and kiss her. But for now...
It isn't at all how you expected. That is your baby. You should be cuddling her, cradling her in your arms. That you can't makes her seem that much more fragile and far away. You wonder about her, this tiny little thing. Will she grow and flourish like all the round, pink-cheeked babies in the maternity ward? Will she play dolls and skip rope? Will she...
After a while you leave. You'll return later, many, many times - sometimes being allowed into the nursery, reaching in the incubator and touching her bitty fingers. But not holding her. Not yet.
You see, for that first month in that nursery, in that incubator, Someone Else is holding her. Some One unseen. He holds her with gentle hands and whispers over her of His plans for her. And years down the road when those hands reach out again, she'll know them... recognize them. She'll grab them and hang on.
This once tiny one, now all grown up, too big for cuddles and lap sitting, still rests in Those Hands. She's glad for a Mom & Dad who took such good care of her in her youth. And she's glad for the hands of a Heavenly Father who held her in an incubator forty years ago and didn't let her go.
(St. Margaret Hospital, September 1968)I imagine you there at the nursery window, Mom in a wheelchair, Dad standing behind her. You hold hands tight and stare through the glass at the all-too-tiny baby. She sleeps, safely cocooned within the protective walls of the incubator. Her wispy fingers curl in fists and her delicate chest heaves up and down. Her skin is pale, almost translucent, adding to the fragile aura about her, this October baby come in September.
A nurse sees you at the window and goes over to the glass incubator. She carefully reaches in and lifts the little baby girl for you to see. Almost immediately her tiny mouth opens in a cry and you start in surprise again. She's here. Already. Too soon. You think over the past hours, the past days. Mom-to-be, admitted to the hospital for toxemia, dad-to-be continuing to work. And then THAT day, the day the baby arrives. The messages to Dad that his baby is coming don't get passed along. Mom goes through labor, wondering if he is there waiting, and wondering how her baby will be.
At that nursery window your minds race with prayers for this little preemie. Prayers of gratitude for her wholeness, her health... and prayers that she'll stay safe and well. Prayers that soon she will come home with you where you can hold her and kiss her. But for now...
It isn't at all how you expected. That is your baby. You should be cuddling her, cradling her in your arms. That you can't makes her seem that much more fragile and far away. You wonder about her, this tiny little thing. Will she grow and flourish like all the round, pink-cheeked babies in the maternity ward? Will she play dolls and skip rope? Will she...
After a while you leave. You'll return later, many, many times - sometimes being allowed into the nursery, reaching in the incubator and touching her bitty fingers. But not holding her. Not yet.
You see, for that first month in that nursery, in that incubator, Someone Else is holding her. Some One unseen. He holds her with gentle hands and whispers over her of His plans for her. And years down the road when those hands reach out again, she'll know them... recognize them. She'll grab them and hang on.
This once tiny one, now all grown up, too big for cuddles and lap sitting, still rests in Those Hands. She's glad for a Mom & Dad who took such good care of her in her youth. And she's glad for the hands of a Heavenly Father who held her in an incubator forty years ago and didn't let her go.
For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11
Friday, September 12, 2008
Since when do elbows figure into morals?
"Push her back! C'mon, get in there!"
The mom in the lawn chair next to me leaned forward, shouting mightily to her daughter on the field. The opposing player had been running hard alongside the girl as she tried to move the ball down the field. Suddenly her arms came up and she gave a swift, almost covert shove. Our player plunged to the ground, while her opponent took off down the field with the ball.
"They need to get more aggressive out there. Our girls aren't being nearly physical enough," the mom growled.
I watched with my stomach in knots as the more experienced team our girls were playing their very first game against continued to dominate, not by fair play, but by foul.
The banter and angry shouts to stoop to their level of play continued from the other parents on our side of the field. Then the referee blew his whistle to call a player on elbowing.
"Finally!" yelled one of the dads.
This was how our first club soccer game went a week and a half ago. And I find myself in the peculiar situation of having to explain to my daughter about playing clean, but also about following the coach's instructions. In talking to the coach, he basically said it came down to morals (following official rules of soccer which don't allow for elbowing) or doing what the ref will let you get away with. I wonder if this coach will sometimes follow the other team's lead in terms of "dirty play". I've told my daughter to not do anything wrong on the field, but to also follow instructions from the coach (and NOT the parents on the sidelines).
Sigh. It was so much easier when it was just at the park district level. I'm also left to wonder, have we done the right thing?
The mom in the lawn chair next to me leaned forward, shouting mightily to her daughter on the field. The opposing player had been running hard alongside the girl as she tried to move the ball down the field. Suddenly her arms came up and she gave a swift, almost covert shove. Our player plunged to the ground, while her opponent took off down the field with the ball.
"They need to get more aggressive out there. Our girls aren't being nearly physical enough," the mom growled.
I watched with my stomach in knots as the more experienced team our girls were playing their very first game against continued to dominate, not by fair play, but by foul.
The banter and angry shouts to stoop to their level of play continued from the other parents on our side of the field. Then the referee blew his whistle to call a player on elbowing.
"Finally!" yelled one of the dads.
This was how our first club soccer game went a week and a half ago. And I find myself in the peculiar situation of having to explain to my daughter about playing clean, but also about following the coach's instructions. In talking to the coach, he basically said it came down to morals (following official rules of soccer which don't allow for elbowing) or doing what the ref will let you get away with. I wonder if this coach will sometimes follow the other team's lead in terms of "dirty play". I've told my daughter to not do anything wrong on the field, but to also follow instructions from the coach (and NOT the parents on the sidelines).
Sigh. It was so much easier when it was just at the park district level. I'm also left to wonder, have we done the right thing?
Monday, September 08, 2008
On the Air
Remember the book, Pampering Gifts? It's a Martha Stewart meets Mary Hunt (Cheapskate Monthly) how-to book that brings a ministry slant to decorating and gift giving. You can see the cover and link to it on my sidebar there to the right. Well, this little book has been huffing and puffing it's way along in the world of book selling. Yes, its the Little Book That Could.
A little update on it's journey: the author will be a guest on Prime Time Chicago (90.1 WMBI) this Wednesday at 3pm. She'll be talking about gift giving on a modest budget - something many of us will be thinking about even more this Fall as our economy continues to slide downward. If you're in the Chicago area, tune in on Wednesday. Outside of Chicago you can listen live over the internet at the WMBI website. Pray for a good phone connection while she's being interviewed (she's having issues with this).
Other book news: Proverbs 31 Ministries will be adding Pampering Gifts to the list of books available through their She Plans web site. Tell your church events planner and women's ministry director to check out this site. LeAnn Rice is working hard to help event planners with articles and resources for every aspect of event planning.
Just a little update, for those who want to know.
A little update on it's journey: the author will be a guest on Prime Time Chicago (90.1 WMBI) this Wednesday at 3pm. She'll be talking about gift giving on a modest budget - something many of us will be thinking about even more this Fall as our economy continues to slide downward. If you're in the Chicago area, tune in on Wednesday. Outside of Chicago you can listen live over the internet at the WMBI website. Pray for a good phone connection while she's being interviewed (she's having issues with this).
Other book news: Proverbs 31 Ministries will be adding Pampering Gifts to the list of books available through their She Plans web site. Tell your church events planner and women's ministry director to check out this site. LeAnn Rice is working hard to help event planners with articles and resources for every aspect of event planning.
Just a little update, for those who want to know.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Same but Different
Yesterday was the first day of Uber-Princess's second year of preschool. I expected it to be the same-old, same-old, even though I told her to expect it to be different. It was different. She was in the same room with one of the same teachers as last year and a few of the same kids. But instead of sixteen kids and two teachers there were only eight kids and one teacher. Smaller, quieter. No long hug goodbye this year, just a little wave. Instead of skipping out to my car without looking back, I shuffled slowly with many little glances over my shoulder. For a couple of hours I was going to miss my little princess.
The trip to Panera felt the same but different too. Different day, different crowd. Ah, but the red-haired retired man in his neat polo, khaki shorts and loafers was there as usual. The cinnamon bagel tasted the same, but cost more. My regular spot was open, but I went to a table next to an outlet for the first time instead. This year I reveled in the bittersweet taste of freedom, but only briefly, before setting to my tasks.
Last year I was a mom new to those hours without children. I felt like I would get lost in the expanse of free time. Now I know all too well the tightness of their boundaries. I am familiar with where they end. Like many moms, that first year I moved more into the space than would fit. This year it's still cramped and crowded, but I can make my way around to what I need. I see that the space has expanded - just a little. And I wonder if it's enough to move in the things outside the door yet. Or must they wait for next year?
A few hours later, I leave my space, my heart a little lighter. I go back to collect my little princess who grabs my hand tight and looks intently into my face as she shows me the baby dolls and dress-up clothes in her classroom. I pick her up and carry her out of the room, enjoying the little hands wrapped around my neck. I savor being with her. And later that evening as her father tells how she ran out to tell him in a breathy voice that "Keeevvvinn" was in her class again, I chuckle. Already the space is becoming more comfortable again - different, but comfortable.
The trip to Panera felt the same but different too. Different day, different crowd. Ah, but the red-haired retired man in his neat polo, khaki shorts and loafers was there as usual. The cinnamon bagel tasted the same, but cost more. My regular spot was open, but I went to a table next to an outlet for the first time instead. This year I reveled in the bittersweet taste of freedom, but only briefly, before setting to my tasks.
Last year I was a mom new to those hours without children. I felt like I would get lost in the expanse of free time. Now I know all too well the tightness of their boundaries. I am familiar with where they end. Like many moms, that first year I moved more into the space than would fit. This year it's still cramped and crowded, but I can make my way around to what I need. I see that the space has expanded - just a little. And I wonder if it's enough to move in the things outside the door yet. Or must they wait for next year?
A few hours later, I leave my space, my heart a little lighter. I go back to collect my little princess who grabs my hand tight and looks intently into my face as she shows me the baby dolls and dress-up clothes in her classroom. I pick her up and carry her out of the room, enjoying the little hands wrapped around my neck. I savor being with her. And later that evening as her father tells how she ran out to tell him in a breathy voice that "Keeevvvinn" was in her class again, I chuckle. Already the space is becoming more comfortable again - different, but comfortable.
Monday, September 01, 2008
For Better, For Worse
One of my favorite comic strips, For Better or For Worse, signed off this weekend with this beautiful strip.
But that's not what this post is about. This one is a meme, with the subtitle:
5 Ways Blogging Changed My Life
This meme was created by L.L. Barkat at Seedlings in Stone, who was kind enough to tag me.
Here are the rules:
1. Write about 5 specific ways blogging has affected you, either positively or negatively.
2. link back to the person who tagged you
3. link back to this parent post (I'm not so much interested in generating links, but rather in tracking the meme so I can perhaps do a summary post later on that looks at patterns and interesting discoveries.)
4. tag a few friends or five, or none at all
5. post these rules— or just have fun breaking them
So, here goes:
1. I've found a new object that triggers my Catholic guilt. When my blog languishes from lack of posts, I feel guilty of neglect. Dear readers, please know how badly I feel when you must go for days on end without hearing from me. [Ahem]. Now that I've gotten that out of my system...
2. Before I started this blog I was virtually clueless about the world of blogging. I hadn't read any blogs. I don't even remember how I started finding blogs to read. Now I've got several tabs on my Google home page for blogs. And I enjoy reading them all because of what I learn from them - about life, writing, and the people who blog. Some regularly make me laugh (BatteredHam, Beast Mom), some make me cry (...another chapter) and many I am glad to call friends (Llama Momma, Reconciliation Blog).
3. I spent some time obsessing over my blog posts for the first six months or so. Every little thing that would happen to me would have me thinking, "hey, this would make a great blog post!". Now I just think, "hey, I want to remember to put this in my Christmas letter this year - I'd better blog about it".
4. I've found my voice. Or maybe I'm continuing to find it. A certain style seems to prevail over time in my posts, a way of looking at things, phrasing my thoughts. Blogging has been a great exercise for me as a writer in ways that my paper journal could never be.
5. I've heard your voices. I love that blogging is an interactive medium. I write articles, but rarely hear how they were received by the reader. Here I can hear back from readers immediately (hint, hint to all of you lurkers). It's very satisfying. But not only that, it is so good to be able to learn what other people think about the things I'm thinking about (whether they agree or disagree).
Tagged: anyone listed above who cares to share on this topic, along with Wily Hacker (who could use a new post sometime soon), Beth at A Quest For Relevance, and Breaths of the Heart.
But that's not what this post is about. This one is a meme, with the subtitle:
5 Ways Blogging Changed My Life
This meme was created by L.L. Barkat at Seedlings in Stone, who was kind enough to tag me.
Here are the rules:
1. Write about 5 specific ways blogging has affected you, either positively or negatively.
2. link back to the person who tagged you
3. link back to this parent post (I'm not so much interested in generating links, but rather in tracking the meme so I can perhaps do a summary post later on that looks at patterns and interesting discoveries.)
4. tag a few friends or five, or none at all
5. post these rules— or just have fun breaking them
So, here goes:
1. I've found a new object that triggers my Catholic guilt. When my blog languishes from lack of posts, I feel guilty of neglect. Dear readers, please know how badly I feel when you must go for days on end without hearing from me. [Ahem]. Now that I've gotten that out of my system...
2. Before I started this blog I was virtually clueless about the world of blogging. I hadn't read any blogs. I don't even remember how I started finding blogs to read. Now I've got several tabs on my Google home page for blogs. And I enjoy reading them all because of what I learn from them - about life, writing, and the people who blog. Some regularly make me laugh (BatteredHam, Beast Mom), some make me cry (...another chapter) and many I am glad to call friends (Llama Momma, Reconciliation Blog).
3. I spent some time obsessing over my blog posts for the first six months or so. Every little thing that would happen to me would have me thinking, "hey, this would make a great blog post!". Now I just think, "hey, I want to remember to put this in my Christmas letter this year - I'd better blog about it".
4. I've found my voice. Or maybe I'm continuing to find it. A certain style seems to prevail over time in my posts, a way of looking at things, phrasing my thoughts. Blogging has been a great exercise for me as a writer in ways that my paper journal could never be.
5. I've heard your voices. I love that blogging is an interactive medium. I write articles, but rarely hear how they were received by the reader. Here I can hear back from readers immediately (hint, hint to all of you lurkers). It's very satisfying. But not only that, it is so good to be able to learn what other people think about the things I'm thinking about (whether they agree or disagree).
Tagged: anyone listed above who cares to share on this topic, along with Wily Hacker (who could use a new post sometime soon), Beth at A Quest For Relevance, and Breaths of the Heart.
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