Footprints In The Mud

Toss In Some Raisins

2012-01-23T06:09:00.000-08:00

My husband drives me crazy.

Not because he doesn't do anything around the house, or isn't my moral support, or doesn't help with a kids, cooking, and chores- He does all of that. In fact, he's a better wife than I am, simply because he can do everything by the time I get out of bed- and we wake up at the same time.

He drives me crazy because he's a genius. He knows exactly what to do to shut me up.

We have issues as to what exactly constitutes a good breakfast. I think of eggs, waffles or cereal, and he thinks of sticky buns, doughnuts and rice pudding. Homemade rice pudding. He considers it healthier than rice krispies, but then I add that the kids can add bananas to the cereal, thus making it better for them. So the next time I come down to see what they're eating, I see rice pudding- with raisins tossed in.

Now I can't say anything in rebuttal, because the dang pudding had fruit.

Apple pie? Put raisins in it. Bland cereal? Put raisins in it. Life is sweeter (and healthier) when you toss in some raisins. Tastes better too.

Another thing that makes me nuts is that he doesn't clean up after himself when he cooks. Every pot, pan, bowl, and kitchen gadget has been used to make his creations, and he leaves me the mess. I cook, I clean up, he cooks, I clean up. I pointed this out to him several times, and sometimes he would clean up the mess. Sometimes. But then he found a way around it.

He makes me goodies.

This is done after dinner to distract me from seeing what he did to the kitchen. By the time I'm done being distracted, I forget all about the mess and wind up going to bed without stepping a foot past the dining room. Morning comes, the sun rises; and by the time I find out what he's done, he's long gone at work.

Last night was a perfect example.

He offered to make dinner. I foolishly let him, enjoying the time off. We ate dinner while watching a movie, and afterwards he decided to throw something together to snack on. He made something with reduced-down raspberry jam and homemade hot fudge. I didn't even have to move- he served me my little tidbit as I sat on the couch. I was Queen for the Evening, and I reveled in it, foolish mortal that I was.

This morning I came down to find the kids eating rice pudding (with raisins). I just sighed and went into the kitchen. I stopped dead in my tracks. My clean kitchen was no longer- in it's place was a nuclear bomb site, complete with a crusted over rice pudding pot, last night's dirty dishes, and every appliance used to make the stew we had for dinner.

Did I scream? No. Did I howl in frustration? Nope. I just pictured the raspberry chocolate goodies in the fridge, and I'd eat some after I'd cleaned up this mess. And who knows? Maybe I'll toss in a few raisins just to see if it tastes better. He got away with it again, and made me smile in the process!

Yes, my husband drives me crazy, but he truly is a genius. The worst kind of genius too- one that knows when to toss in some raisins!

Budgeting and Breaking of (Homemade) Bread

2012-01-19T08:22:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking a lot since my last post, and seriously wondered if my complaints were justified. In my mind's eye I felt we had been proper Scrooges throughout last year, so I dove into the accounts and took a long look at what we spent.

Everything we spent, in fact. Because we are anal enough to actually use our bank card for sales as little a 1.99. It took me three days to organize, tally and separate the good spending from the bad (which is harder than it sounds!), but I've finally finished. And the numbers were shocking.

I can honestly say I had no idea I was having that much fun, or I was that generous at Christmas. Last year was a pretty fun year; I must have complained my way through it and missed out on all the frivolity. But not this year!

I'm breaking out the Yardstick of Really Strict Budgeting, and whacking the snot out of our Finite Financial Status, slapping silly the Income and Payments of Uncertainty to try to make the money stretch like Gumby on a griddle.

Here are a few things I'm doing to cut costs that you can do too!

Bake you own bread. It sounds hard, but it really isn't- just a little time consuming. Most of it is waiting anyway, and you can do other things while it's rising. I've found it better to not use a bread machine. Why? Because I can do four loaves of bread in the oven vs. one loaf in a bread machine- and I don't have to worry about taking that stupid little mixer-thingie out before the bread bakes! I always forget to remove it- then I have a loaf with a hole big enough for a weaver bird to nest in. Besides, with a teenage boy in the house, that one loaf might only last 3.2 seconds. I need to bake in bulk- I just wish my oven was bigger- about the size of Indiana- then I might satisfy Mr. Hormonal Growth Spurt for more than an eyeblink.
One of the benefits to baking your own bread is that great fresh-baked smell that wafts through the entire house. Anyone who's had a bad day walks in and just can't help but smile! That smell ought to be used during Congressional meetings- there would be a lot less arguing.
I don't just mean loaf bread either- you can make rolls for sandwiches or as a side for soup or dinner, bagels take more effort but are a lot cheaper if you make them, and don't forget tortillas- those suckers are easy to store or freeze and are great for making wraps for school lunches- just toast them before packing lunches, and you suddenly become the Best. Mom. Ever. And no preservatives either!

Make your own goodies. Cookies of almost any kind, cakes big and small, soft pretzels, popcorn, krispy treats- it doesn't matter- they'll be appreciated and gobbled up. Just ask my husband who made rice pudding last night and put the leftovers in the fridge to tempt me. Let's just say I did a really good job of cleaning out the fridge this morning. Don't tell him, and I'll share his next batch with you.

Not only will you save a lot of money doing all this, but the homemade stuff tastes better.

Stretch what you have. Pasta, rice, potatoes or leftover veggies can make a meal go a long way, but since I refrain from eating anything with wheat flour, my choices are a bit more limited. I still make meals with pasta or bread, but I switch my portion out with rice, potatoes or vegetables. Soups, stews and casseroles are great one pot wonders, and there's very little cleanup afterwards. If you have canned soups, stretch them out with a little more water and add rice or pasta (or milk and potatoes if it's a cream soup). I've made one can stretch to feed all four of us this way (at least when the kids were younger), or use that cream soup as a sauce for a big pile of pasta or rice- and watch your family make it disappear. Gumby on a griddle, I'm telling you!

I might just take this one step further and see how long I can live out of my pantry and freezer. Any fresh stuff I would buy, but what kind of wacky concoctions could I come up with if I did this? I'll keep you posted if I do!

In the meantime, I'm going to bake some fresh bread before my husband comes home- maybe the bread will distract him from wanting any pudding....

Called on the Carpet

2012-01-16T04:12:00.000-08:00

The term 'getting called on the carpet' originated from (at least in my family) very bad house pets who did a no-no on the rug. Our beloved pet would then be called in and told in a very stern voice (with a lot of pointing to the offending mess) that they did a Very. Bad. Thing. Then they were sent off with their tail between their legs, while we grabbed a bucket and scrub brush with a lot of hot water and soap.

But it's a whole lot worse when a friend calls someone on the carpet, and that someone is you. And no, I didn't do a no-no on the rug- but I did do a Very. Bad. Thing. I didn't even realize I was doing it until she said something.

Well, she didn't actually 'say' it- it was a private message I'd received on Facebook. Basically, she told me what she thought I was doing wrong, and that I'd been doing this for three years, and she was tired of me doing it, and though she was going to remain civil, we couldn't really be friends anymore. At first I was defensive about what she said (after all, I never do anything wrong- but don't ask my husband to confirm that), but after reading her message over a few times, I realized that I had indeed been guilty of her accusations, at least in part. The other part was simply misunderstandings, and the lack of information she had for some of my actions.

So I wrote back, filling in the missing blanks without giving excuses, and apologized for what I could. Then I left the ball in her court. And if I had a tail, I would have tucked it between my legs and hid under the kitchen table.

What was the reason for her message? I complained too much. I know it sounds small, but after three years of hearing me go on about the same subject, I just plain got on her nerves- it's as simple as that. And here all I thought I was doing was sharing conversation. At least until I confirmed things with my husband.

One great thing about my husband (that also makes him a pain in the patootie sometimes) is that he isn't afraid to tell me the truth about myself. When I asked him 'Do you think I complain about ________ too much?' I'll get a most honest and poignant 'Yes!' from my spouse. Sometimes I'll get a 'No', but it isn't often.

I admit, I have a bad habit of complaining about things. Most times I can turn it into something funny, but all in all, the basic, bare-bones of the joke is a complaint. So my friend-who-is-no-longer-a-friend actually did me a favor by telling me. I just wish she had said something three years ago- then maybe I could've salvaged this relationship.

There is no pause button, no Twix Bar last-minute saves, no Do-Overs when you screw something up. At least concerning relationships. However, apologies can be made and broken relationships fixed if both parties are willing. And if both parties aren't able to make amends, you need to let go and learn from your mistakes.

I don't know if we'll ever be friends again, but I hope to be. Both of us need a little work though- I need to work on keeping my conversation more positive without complaining, and she needs to work on not waiting so long before saying something to me.
I don't mind people telling me they don't like something I'm doing- to each her own, and everyone will disagree with everyone else at one point or another- just don't wait until you're so frustrated that you want to sever the relationship! Tell me. I'm a big girl- I can handle it. I might not like what you have to say, but I promise I'll walk off and think on it. And if it's something I believe needs changing, then I'll change it.

If not? Well, we either work through it or walk away. It's as simple as that.

Politeness can be a great asset, but it can also be a hindrance. Sometimes you need to step up and call someone on the carpet if they're doing something wrong. Even if that someone is me. I can't change if I have no idea I'm doing something wrong, after all.

Don't be afraid of the truth- it might hurt, it might make you mad, but if what your friend/husband/coworkers are all saying the same thing, then it's probably true. Then do what you can to make yourself better. I'm not saying you should change just for those around you (people pleasing doesn't make anyone happy in the long run), but choose your battles and change the parts of yourself that will make you a better person. Ask questions, get answers, and become a better person.

Before someone calls you on the carpet.

Going Bananas! (In More Ways Than One)

2012-01-09T11:28:00.000-08:00

Today is the day when things are supposed to settle in and go back to normal. Why not last week, you ask? Because I just happened to be born two days after New Years and dagnabbit, I had to keep the house cleared up for my big birthday dinner with my friends, courtesy of my husband, Roland the Wonder Chef.

Saturday was spent with my husband prepping a meal for six women, and all I was asked to do was buy his ingredients, chop some veggies and stay out of his way. Dinner was served on his grandmothers fine china, but we never found the matching silverware- you see, I had decluttered and it got stored away somewhere, not to be found until we both die of old age. So we used the everyday silverware. No one noticed.

The meal was lovely, with a raspberry vinaigrette salad with almond slivers, shrimp bisque, half a roasted herbed chicken, complete with broccoli, green beans and a potato latke (potato pancake)- then for dessert we were served a raspberry fudge cream cake. All of this was made from scratch- not a single can was used in the entire process- and we all ate our fill as we talked about women stuff.

It. Was. Awesome!

He even did the dishes afterwards! It took him that night and most of the afternoon the next day, but he did it all! It took him so long because he used about every cooking vessel we own, as well as most of my kitchen gadgets. I just stayed out of his way and let him do what he does best. After 15 years of marriage, I know better than to stick my rear in our little two-butt kitchen while he's there- especially when he has the kids helping! It was like a well-oiled basket of ferrets in there- they knew what they were doing, but all you saw was chaos!

And the house managed to stay fairly neat the entire two weeks. It was a miracle of elephantine proportions, but also in part because we shoved all the extra stuff in our bedroom. The staff from Hoarders should be calling us any minute now! I have to do gymnastics to get to my dresser, and the same goes for my husband (um, I mean he has a hard time getting to his dresser too!) We don't let the cats or the kids in there for fear of never seeing them again.

I was planning to tackle the bedroom today, but I'd forgotten about a blessing we received late last week. We were offered a ton of bananas, and since they were ready to go a little too ripe, it was the perfect time to make banana bread. I put them in the fridge until after my birthday dinner, fully intending on making some yesterday after church.

But God said Sunday was a day of rest, and my body let me know that if I remotely did anything physical it would hurt me, so I listened and took a nap.

Today is the day everything should get done, and the only thing I've accomplished was making enough banana bread to feed a small country. I haven't touched the bedroom yet (my room tackling was more of a nudge), and I still have to make pizza dough for dinner. And now I see I have to get my daughter before she decides I've abandoned her and goes off to live with the neighbors. After all, they just got a puppy!

Still I managed to get a lot done, just not what I expected to. This used to drive me nuts, but now I just roll with it. In this case, I just make banana bread and pizza!

Stop Saying, Start Praying!

2012-01-01T12:46:00.000-08:00

Every New Year I find myself making a new list (okay, not so new- more like an addendum) of my resolutions. I usually make them easy to achieve, just so I feel good about myself, sharing my list with friends and making comparisons. But this year, things will be different!

I'm not making a resolutions list- instead, I'm making a prayer list. This is a list of the things I need God to work on for me, since there is no way humanly possible for me to do them- at least not without His help.

1. Please heal my thyroid. I have a thyroid that's slower than the government. I want one that works right so I don't have to take any more of these stupid little pills every day. Not to mention a properly working one will also keep my hair from thinning, my body from fattening, and my mind from freezing up like a ten year old computer.

2. If it is Your will, please let us get a new house. The rental we've been living in is getting mold from bad plumbing issues, we need to go hunt teddy bears to make fur parkas to guard against drafts, and I could really use some extra space to hide from these people who think I'm here on the planet to serve their every need. Okay, so I am there for that, but it would be nice to have a door with a lock on it so I can read a book past the second sentence without being interrupted.
Oh, and a laundry room on the first floor. And a kitchen the size of a small state. With a mortgage of two hundred dollars a month. But I'm just letting God handle the details- right now, I'm just asking for the house, and the means to get it, thank you!

3. Give me the strength and willpower to keep the house clean and organized. God is the only one who can do this- I've found out I'm as good at this as a sloth is in running a marathon. I have as much natural ability for cleaning as a horse does with typing. All I want is the energy to keep maintaining what I've cleaned so far, and declutter everything else before I die. God might have to make me live longer to do this though!

4. Please give us the budgeting skills and business savvy of Bill Gates. We don't need to be bazillionaires, but being thousandaires would be a nice change! Help us to use the money You have given us through work and skills to prosper enough to help others- and to get that house we want.

5. Make me what you want us to be- and give us a few hints. I know you have Big Plans for me and mine, but just give us an inkling as to where you need us to be and what our jobs are. And don't be subtle either- I usually don't recognize hints very well.

6. Help me to be more patient. And while I'm asking for huge miracles, I'd like a pet unicorn too. A white one with a purple mane and tail, please.

I have no idea what God has in mind for me this year, but it is going to be awesome! The changes that have happened in just the past few months has been an eye-opening experience, and He has opened my heart to all kinds of great stuff. I've lost weight (almost 30 pounds!), had a major attitude adjustment, and have been working (and succeeding) in many of my negative self-talk.

I've stopped talking, and started doing. And guess what? I'm getting positive results!

God is good- and He is good all the time!

So...what's on your prayer list this year?

Why Stress Over Holiday Mess?

2011-12-22T03:49:00.000-08:00

Oh, the irony of that title!

I stressed over messes for years, especially around the holidays. Everything should have been neat, clean and put in their proper places, yet by the time Christmas had arrived, the house was in order, but I was a ragged mess- mentally and physically.

Of course if I had been maintaining my mess in the first place...well, that's trash over the can at this point. I'm now getting my house decluttered and organized, and I know I won't be done by Christmas. And I don't give a rat's patootie either.

Every day I see others stressing about it though- like we all don't have enough to be stressed over! Especially the moms. Moms have a particular need for perfection around this time of year. Moms with kids too little to lend much of a hand. Moms with older kids too busy/tired/unwilling to lend a hand.

It's a lot like planning your own wedding every year. You want perfection. You need perfection. But there's no way in Washington that you'll get perfection. Not when little Tyler just painted the TV with yogurt, and the family pet just did something nasty on the rug concerning pine needles and tinsel.

When you have kids, don't expect perfection. You ain't Martha Stewart, and you can't afford her kids psychologist bills. Give up the ghost of perfection, and put on the ghost of the Spirit!

Who are we all trying to impress, anyway? Those family members we see once a year? Are we afraid of Aunt Mertle sticking her nose up in the air and sniffing distastefully at our skewed magazines, or toys on the floor? Give her some nose plugs and tell her to go see a lung specialist for that 'pug snort' she seems to have. Or tell her to go pound sand. Or just don't invite her over! You need people around you that let you relax in your own home, not make you feel like a bumbling innkeeper!

Just remember, God doesn't give a hoot if our house is messy- He cares only about how welcoming we are. If you feel Aunt Mertle must be there, welcome her warmly and stuff her so full of food that she can't move- it's hard to sniff disdainfully when you're eating good food and enjoying yourself!

You have kids. Kids make messes. It's their job. But if you're focused on the people and not the 'things' around you, you'll not only find yourself relaxing, but having a great time too! So don't stress over holiday mess. I'm not...anymore.

I'm going to sit down with my Aunt Mertle, have a homemade cookie (maybe the one my kids made just for me- a snowman with gloppy icing, one eye and a misshapen hat), some hot berry tea and enjoy myself. After all, isn't the reason for the season to celebrate the birth of Christ?

And who can celebrate when stressed? Take that word and spell it backwards- Desserts! Now that's celebrating!

I Am a Tiger!

2011-12-17T05:15:00.000-08:00

I've been reading a book called Change (Almost) Anything In 21 Days, and I must say, though I've had little time to read, what I've read so far has really touched me in some fantastic ways. I thought I'd share some of them with you!

The basic idea of the book is making an affirmation for 21 days by writing it ten times a day. Okay, so I haven't written anything down yet (only because I haven't narrowed my bazillion affirmations to one or two), but I have tried another way, and that's singing/chanting it to myself whenever I walk home from my daughter's school or the gym. Like the book suggests, I kept it simple:

I can do anything; I am confident.

I know it sounds a little silly (after all I won't be a rocket scientist, or a veterinary surgeon in my near future), but the premise is a sound one- I can do anything I set my mind to, and I can do it because I am confident in my abilities. Just doing this little chant every day has done wonders for my self-esteem.

The book also states that being grateful for what God has provided puts you in a more positive mindset. So I make sure I take time out each day to thank God for anything I can think of.

Today, when I read page 34, a story popped out at me and just about slapped me silly. This is what I wanted to share with you today.

A man walked through a forest and saw a fox that had lost it's legs and wondered how it lived. Then he saw a tiger come up with game in it's mouth. The tiger ate it's fill and left the rest of the meat for the fox.
The next day God fed the fox by means of the same tiger. The man began to wonder about God's greatness and said to himself, 'I too shall just rest in the corner with full trust in the Lord and He will provide me with all that I need.'
He did this for many days, but nothing happened. He was almost at death's door when he heard a voice say, 'Oh you who are on the path of error, open your eyes to the truth! Stop imitating the disabled fox and follow the example of the tiger!'

Wow. In all this time, I had no idea I was acting like the fox. I only started emulating the tiger this past week, and that was before I read this. God is so awesomely cool!

How many people do you know who emulate the fox? I know of more than a few, myself included. But how many people do you know who are tigers? And the biggest question of all is this; Which one are you?

Me? I'm a tiger! GROWL!

Conquering the Negative

2011-12-13T07:51:00.000-08:00

I have to admit it- we used to be middle class (okay, lower middle, but still in the middle), but with the economy taking a swan dive into the depths of debt, we're now thrown into a whole new era of need. I could cry poor mouth (in fact, I have many times, much to my shame), but what good did that do? People would get uncomfortable around me and start to walk away when they saw me coming. I gave this a great deal of thought, and I've been a big, weenie-burger whiner. I kept putting on the crap-colored glasses and seeing the negative in my surroundings.

The bank account is starving, but we aren't. Due to some awesome bargain-finding skills via me, my husband and my mom, I've gotten wind of some great sales when food shopping; good quality stuff, not the insta-meals that will keep you fed, but are filled with all sorts of chemicals. Home cooking not only allows me to make things fresh, but I know what's going in it. No MSG or yellow number 6, thank you very much!

Just don't ask my son if he's starving. He'll tell you he gets only one breakfast (at home- he sneaks another at school), one snack, one lunch, another snack and only three servings of dinner. The funny thing is we only allow two helpings at the dinner table. I think he sneaks the extra one when he goes after 'helping number two' unsupervised. The kid could eat all day and never be full, and he's only thirteen! Despite this deprivation, he's healthy, so that's another tick on the 'positive stuff' chart.

We never seem to have much extra money, but always just enough money. And that's all that really matters in the long run, right? Anytime we have extra, it's usually stocked away like nuts for winter. I start Christmas shopping in January. By the time Christmas comes around, that gift that was only five or ten bucks becomes a bunch of five or ten dollar items, and everyone gets something. Or I save up until I can get a bigger item. Either way, somebody is getting something.

This also goes for birthdays too- even though I can't always get a gift, I make up for it by inviting a few of my kid's friends over and make homemade pizza and cake. I also whip up my own frosting, and have all kinds of decorator tips from way back in the single days when I had a salary and could afford hobbies. I have yet to take a cake-decorating class, but kids don't usually care- the cake tastes good no matter how pretty the frosting is!

When I look back, I realize that most of the stuff we have was given to us via relatives and friends. We never had to buy a new couch or bed, because someone was always getting rid of theirs. The same thing goes for AC units, clothing, books and other needs big and small. It's just hard to see the blessings through crappy glasses.

God swatted me upside the head last week and knocked those glasses off, and I'm so glad He did. It's really amazing to see the world for it's potential; it's like being blocked by a six-foot brick wall- instead of looking for a way around it, I was staring at the bricks close-up and wondering how I could ever manage getting over something so big. All I had to do was look up to see the obstacle was not as cumbersome as I imagined. Now my vision was clear, and things were looking up. Literally.

I intend to keep this positive attitude. How? By thanking God. For everything.

I found myself asking God for stuff, and very little time thanking Him, except when it was something big or something I might have gotten in trouble for. How many time did you pray when you accidentally ran a red light or thought you broke something precious to someone else? I decided to just stop during the day and thank Him for whatever came to mind. And during that time, not ask for anything. It's harder than you think!

I thanked Him for my warm fuzzy socks that protected me from the cold kitchen floor. I thanked Him for the energy to get the kitchen cleaned. I thanked Him for the chance to bless others that morning, when I was able to offer my cell phone to a motorist who locked her purse in her car. Anything and everything I could think of for that few minutes was glorifying God and no one else. And I came away feeling better about the world in general.

Everyone here knows how much I hate housework, but since I started thanking Him for the energy to do it, I've been finding myself humming as I worked! Acting like I was actually having fun! It was a very weird experience, but a good weird. Like Gonzo. And I just had to share that feeling with you.

If you're in a similar situation (and more of us are as each day passes), don't look at the world through crap-colored glasses. Don't wait for God to swat you upside the head. Take a deep breath, take those glasses off, and look at the world from a different perspective- a more positive one. What can you do to bless others? What can you thank God for? What's happening that's good in your life?

I bet you'll feel blessed too!

Let Me Re-Introduce Myself...

2011-12-11T06:10:00.000-08:00

Soon it will be a new year, but this is not the reason I'm writing this post. I'm writing this because I want things to change in my life, and the only one holding me back is me.

So I will no longer be afraid to speak my mind- Especially if it's funny.

Let me re-introduce myself. I'm a wife of a fantastic husband and also the mother of two really great kids. All three drive me to madness, but it's a good kind of madness. The kind of madness you can actually write about and not get yourself (or your family) arrested. I'm a Jacqueline of All Trades, but have yet to consider myself a Master of Anything, though people like most of my creative endeavors.

Except the one time I tried to make a dish involving hamburger and uncooked rice. Ugh.

I have no intention to ever call myself a Master except when it concerns big messes. That I know I'm good at- and so far no one else has denied it! Call yourself a Master when you're not, and people call you a braggart. When others call you a Master, yet you don't consider yourself one, people call you humble.

My husband is both The Greatest Handyman Ever and the Encyclopedia Britannica. But these are not his only talents. He can also cook up a storm- if I were to compare ourselves to famous cooks, I'm Paula Deen and he's somewhere between a pastry chef and Rachael Ray. I'm the down home cook and he's the gourmet cook. Let's just say between the two of us, we eat well around here.

He can also clean the house better than I ever could, because he likes to clean- in fact, he can not only do it better, he can do it faster than me- Maybe because he likes it so much. All I know is he's done the entire house before I'm finished half of a single room, and it looks great. Dagnabbit. He's better at a lot of stuff than I am except rolling out pie crust. He can't roll a crust to save his life, but he can pull a fifteen course meal out of the oven in thirty minutes. Weird.

He's also my GPS whenever I get lost. I could call him from anywhere on the planet and he can tell me where I am and how to get home before I get a word out. Strange but true!

My son has finally made it to his teen years, and we call him Wikipedia- he takes pride in that nickname, but unlike my husband, Mr. Encyclopedia, our son is just like the 'Wiki' version- full of 'factual misinformation' that people feed into him. Having Aspergers, he takes many things said in jest as a fact, and will back those 'facts' up with stuff he pulls from out of the blue- but it sounds good to ears younger than himself who don't know any better. When he's wrong he's really, really wrong... but when he's right, he'll blow your mind!

I found out that my son is great with little kids. We went to a summer picnic where there were at least twenty children, and he had all of them playing games he invented. He kept them running around and entertained for a good five hours; my husband and I received kudos from parents that had real, uninterrupted conversations since they gave birth. He's an amazing kid!

My daughter is a girly tom-boy who loves to wear dresses and climb the monkey bars- but not at the same time. When she was little she heard her brother screaming about a waterbug in the bathroom, and she was the First Responder, heading for the Room Of Death with her shoe poised to strike. She's our little Warrior Maiden, and though bugs are beginning to freak her out now, she is always sticking up for others at the schoolyard. She's not afraid to tell someone they're not being nice, and comfort the victim until she can guide him or her to one of the school aids. I can totally see her in a prom dress packing a taser gun. Don't mess with the dress!

She gets excited about everything. I love that about her. She has a big heart for animals and nearly broke down in a puddle of tears when she heard she was still too young to volunteer at the animal shelter. We watched Animal Cops together a lot over the summer, and she wants to save all of them. I think we'll need a bigger yard first.

Both kids are super awesome when it comes to helping others. I am one blessed woman- when these people aren't driving me crazy!

I should include our two cats, Boo-boo and Scootch. One was named after Laverne and Shirley's stuffed cat (even though he's grey and white and not black like the stuffed kitty on TV) and the other kept getting underfoot, and I had to constantly tell him to 'scootch out of my way' all the time. So the names stuck. Boo-boo likes to knead and lick my arm when he wants comfort, and Scootch has learned that if he leaps onto my desk and sits on my mouse (which I'm usually using at the time) he will get some pets and attention.

They're here to make me see the lighter side of life when I start taking things too seriously. Scootch isn't the most adept at ' sticking the landing' and falls off of things periodically- he's our clown. Boo-boo is a one-person cat and has taken a shine to me, but is only now warming to my husband after a year of being in our care. Neither one wants to be cuddled to death by the kids though, and they will swat at them, only using their claws on the rare occasion when the kids refuse to back off.

Sometimes they remind me of my kids whenever I'm eating; they put their little noses near my plate, asking in their own less noisy but more subtle way if I'm going to finish what I have. Nine times out of ten they walk away from the tidbit offered, which is more than I can say for my kids, which will not only take a bite, but take my plate and hork down the whole thing if I let them. Especially my son, who burns off the calories before he's even finished chewing.

And yet I'm the heavy one in the family. Go figure.

Now a few more nasty truths.

My house is a mess. Not just a dinky little I-really-need-to-clean-up-that spot kind of mess, but more like a dear-God-where's-the-shovel? kind of mess. We were in the process of moving, but the finances fell through, so now I have a partially-packed house where the only organized things are in the boxes.

I also have a lot of clutter, because I'm a packrat and I'm lazy. I hate going through stuff. It takes forever. And most of it is stuff that would fit nicely into a junk drawer. In fact, most of it was in a junk drawer before I decided to clean out. Pencils that break when in the sharpener, screws of all sizes that might have come from things we tossed out; dead pens, dried-up rubberbands; parts to things that might be important, but only my husband knows what they are. And that's just scratching the surface!
I'm getting a box that says 'Fossils' and tossing it out into the trash when it's full. After twelve years in the same rental home, I believe most of this untouched clutter could legally be called fossils, so I wouldn't be lying. Much.

If this keeps up, they might be calling Hoarders on me. My husband probably would have already, but he can't find the phone.

I. Am. Lazy.
If I can get away from cooking every night, I will. Making bigger meals helps, but it makes a bigger mess. I'm still deciding whether it's worth it or not. However, soup can be made in bulk with little extra mess, so I plan on making it more often.
I like sitting in a sunny window and reading the day away, as well as fighting off monsters on my PC. I was a facebook addict, and had to stop because the family was being seriously neglected due to my awesome facebook farming skills and my arcane powers of destruction. Fun but totally time-wasting. And that's not why God put me here!

I am a Christian.
This is not a nasty truth, but some people do give me a wide berth when they see me holding a Bible. It's like they think I'm going to start running about the schoolyard yelling 'Repent!" while smacking everyone upside the head with the Word. Oh, I've thought about it (sounds like fun actually), but I'd never do it. I'm not a nut, religious fanatic, or cultist. I love Jesus and He loves me, and Satan and I will never be buddies. Period. I'll mention God on this blog, but I will never be preachy. I hate preachy people. But I will tell you that God has done a lot for me, where I have yet to return the favor- like I ever could. God is good all the time...and me? Well, let's just say my record is not remotely close to exemplary.

So that's me and mine in a nutshell. I promise I will give you no less than my best efforts, and I won't be afraid to tell the truth. Not that I've lied in the past, but you can keep the truth hidden by keeping silent. I'm tired of muzzling myself.

I'm Beth Brubaker, and I'm lazy, messy, and lose my cool with my family sometimes. I love to laugh, sing, and I cry during sappy girl flicks. I love to eat, read, and find joy in the little things. I love God, my husband, my kids and my cats, in that order. And I love to write.

Nice to meet you! God Bless!

Is God a Feminist?

2011-11-22T05:39:00.001-08:00

It's time to talk about a touchy subject- one that's hits home in many hearts, men and women alike.

What is Feminism, and who are these Feminists?

Feminism, as defined by the dictionary, is a doctrine that advocates an equality between women and men; to have the same rights in political and economic status. There's nothing wrong with that at all, but society has taken this premise and lifted it to insane heights, adding this or that addendum to turn the definition into something more sinister. Think of the book Animal Farm, where all the animals take over and are supposed to be equal- until the pigs get power hungry. That is what's happening to Feminism today.

Women can be anything they want to be, and yes, they might have to fight a little harder to get it, but not nearly as much as they used to. Now a woman has a better chance of succeeding (if she has the drive and motivation) than she ever did- but does that mean we all have to be superwomen concerning business and finances? If we can be all we can be, why are some Feminists looking down their noses at those who have chosen the life of an at-home mom? Or a cleaning lady? or any other jobs that used to be 'women only' professions? If we can choose what we want to be, why are those choices frowned upon?

That's where the Feminist comes in. Sometimes good (equal rights), but sometimes (and more often nowadays) not so good. Feminists are becoming known as 'those self-righteous bitches' and 'man-haters' that not only climb the ladder of success, but try to step on the head of every man she can in her stilettos, not just wanting to be equal to men, but to be better than men.

But isn't equality the reason we started Feminism in the first place? So we wouldn't be under oppression by men? So why are so many Feminists becoming the 'oppressive monsters' they were originally fighting? It makes no sense.

A perfect example I'll use is me. I was brought up in a home that 'women can do anything men can do, only better'. Many times I saw my mom treating my dad with disrespect, and figured that was the way it was supposed to be. She didn't like being an at-home mom, and pursued other interests throughout my childhood.

When I got married, I figured I was the boss and he would be under me. I was a fairly new Christian then, and he was in the church all of his life. He was raised by women and understood men could be oppressive as well, so he was also a feminist- in the equal sense, not the in the 'I'm better than you' mindset I was in at the time. In the beginning it seemed to work, because when I shoved, he backed off. I shoved him around for eight years in fact, not letting him do anything that wasn't approved by me first. I had gone one better than my mother, believing in the hype that is today's standard as a Feminist. I wasn't a man-hater, just a man controller. My husband's leash was short, but had gems instead of spikes, if you will.

Then God hit me with a brick- my husband started standing up for himself. And I didn't like it.

That was also when God started really working in my heart about what role we play as women in the Bible. Don't stop reading! I'm not going to tell you I turned all lovey-dovey and nurturing, rubbing his feet and giving birth to a nation while happily doing the dishes. I'm going to tell you something that rocked my world.

God is a Feminist too.

He made Eve to be Adam's partner. An equal. Yes, He also says that men are the leaders, but men are also supposed to love their wives as they would themselves. God told men that we are equals. And if you look at Proverbs 31:10 - 31, it tells us that her husband has full confidence in her- she buys and sells property and goods, cares for the children and hires servants (aka employees whether they be in a company or a house cleaner for your home), she takes care of the house and speaks with wisdom. Does that sound like a weak, oppressed woman to you? Yes, she is obedient to both her husband and God, but she also has an opinion, and her husband is expected to consider her words- just as long as she's not screeching them at the top of her lungs!

So there is a big difference between being an oppressive Feminist vs. an equality Feminist- Respect. Men are equals. Women are equals. We all have a job to do whether that's staying at home with the kids or running a multi-million dollar business. Man or woman, don't treat the opposite sex as if they are a lesser being. That's not what God had in mind when He made us.

Now that my husband and I are true partners, our marriage has gotten better and better- In fact, this May will be our fifteenth anniversary! I no longer hold a leash but my husband's hand- and to be honest, I like that much more! Yes, sometimes it's still a struggle, but we work through it. Why?

Because we're both Feminists. And so is God.

My Tah-Dah List

2011-11-17T04:25:00.000-08:00

My To-Do list is so long, I'm thinking about calling Guinness World Records to document it!

For those who aren't familiar with these kinds of lists, did you know there are several categories on a To-Do list? Here are a few:

The Big Chore List- these are things that need to be done periodically, like cleaning the oven or washing the walls- though why anyone washes walls is beyond me- I just cover my walls with pictures and bookshelves- and velcro, if the kids get out of hand.

The Call List- these are people you need to contact before the day is out, otherwise you'll forget they exist. Usually reserved for appointment making or work-at-home clients, and maybe the babysitter. Girlfriends and your spouse don't count- those are fun things, and fun things are never to be listed, because you'll never get to them if you do.

The Short Stuff- five minute tasks that are a one-time deal. You do them, and you don't have to deal with them for a while. Like bills. Or taxes. It doesn't take long to put them all into the recycle bin, after all, and you're helping the environment.*

The Dear-Lord-Do-I-Have-To-Do-This-Again?!? List- This is the bulk of the To-Do list- things you have to do every single day of your life until you die, and sometimes after you die. This includes dustball removal (because no one else can see them), making meals, straightening clutter, washing clothes, doing dishes, and staying sane- though that last one usually isn't on the list, it's a given- kind if like the 'k' in knife. You need it there, but no one needs to write it down because it's understood.

The Re-Do/Priority List- This is a list of your lists. This is also the list that gets re-written a bazillion times a day because you thought you could schedule these things without being interrupted, foolish mortal that you are. Doing wash might be a priority in the morning, but when your husband calls and casually mentions he's invited all of his co-workers to dinner (all fifteen-hundred of them), you need to scratch out that list and prioritize doing dishes instead, because the kitchen is becoming a target for anthropologists.

And don't forget you need to call the College of Anthropology to tell them to cancel the dig next week, because you're having company.

I think it should be called a Tah-Dah list, because finishing it would be miraculous!

*Attention tax and bill guys- I really do pay them, just online- and most of the time it really does take five minutes, because I have no money. It's only your bazillion stinking reminders that go into the recycle bin. Thank You.

I Was An Acorn

2011-11-09T09:05:00.001-08:00

I came up with this poem as I walked home from the gym- I hope you enjoy it!

I Was An Acorn
By Beth Brubaker

I was an acorn,
Hard, smooth, encased in a shell.
I was buried in the soil, knowing not my purpose,
And God saw fit for me to take root.

I begin to grow,
breaking that shell that was my solace.
Slowly stretching my arms to the light,
It took years for me to grow.

Every time before I sleep
God's best shines through me.
These are not my colors,
but God's artistry through me.

Even when I pass from this world,
I will not be remembered as an acorn,
But as I am now.
A rainbow of color that brings joy to all,
for I am God's creation, His pride, and joy.

Fried Brains, With a Side of Stupid

2011-11-07T07:46:00.000-08:00

My hyper-kinetic brain came up with a brilliant idea. I was going to create a website, and sell my services as a poet/lyricist to help along the We-Want-To-Buy-A-House fund. All I had to do was buy a domain name, find a server and make the site.

Yeah, right.

I asked some of my younger and smarter buddies for help. That's where it went all higglety-pigglety.

'Do you know how to make a website?' I ask hopefully. 'Oh sure, that's easy!' they'd reply, 'Just click on the flibbity-floo and upload your snigglefritz, save the file, and you're all done!' Click the the WHAT? Load the WHO? It sounded like gobblygook to me!

Seeing the blank deer-in-the-headlights gaze I gave them, they showed me their websites and what they did on them, and I was really impressed. Pictures and home movies were there, with emails, links, streaming, and all those other website goodies, toting their wares as website designers.

And these were twelve year-olds.

Yet I was too proud to admit I wasn't as smart as them, so I faked understanding, went home, and gave it a go.

I clicked on what I thought was the flibbity-floo and found myself on a totally different part of my dashboard. Apparently I clicked in the whoozeewhatsis instead, and now I was in some kind of HTML thing with codes that looked like the Matrix. I went back and tried again. And again. The problem with computers is, they always do the same thing when you do the same thing. It's really annoying!

It took me two hours to make my logo and put it onto the first page. It took me another two to get an item on the menu bar. If I keep going at this rate, I'm going to die before I get the darn thing done! Part of me is wondering if dying would be worth it- just so I don't have to mess with this stubborn hunk of technological horse-poo. The only things keeping my sanity are my cats (major cuddle factor), and my husband, who can get me out of any computer mess. He can't help with the website, but he's a whiz at putting the CPU back together after I've finished whacking it with a hammer.

So here I sit with a half-baked website, two menu items that lead to blank pages, and a really cool looking logo. I think that's a good for a week of torture, don't you?

I can see this as a diner scene in a bad movie:

'Fried brains with a side of Stupid, please.' I ask the waitress.
'Would you like a cup of 'Duh' to go with that?'
I sigh. 'Yes, I would, thank you.'

It's going to be a long week.

I'll keep you posted, but in the meantime you might want to send me some chocolate- I think I might need it!

Touch My Stuff And Die!

2011-10-31T07:11:00.000-07:00

We teach our kids 'You need to learn to share', 'It feels good to share, Sweetheart.' But when it comes to some things, sharing is just not an option.

Like chocolate. Or my laptop. Even if my husband bought it for me.

Just last week, my laptop was snuggled within the confines of my sewing room. It was cramped, and I couldn't spread out to write (the fabric was in the way), but because no one was allowed in the sewing room, my technological baby was left unmolested. But that all changed when I asked if I could use the 'kids' computer desk (the computer that was there died a horrible death- or at least the monitor did), using the tactic that the kids don't need that much space just to play computer games. Whenever we get a new monitor, that is.

My plan worked, but there were some unexpected pitfalls.

It took me two days to clear off that darn desk, and another two to get all my stuff into it, organize it, and have some clear workspace. Workspace which I now have to guard like a rabid momma bear, because people are always trying to mess up my new space with their old cra...um...stuff. I've managed to keep most of the clutter at bay, but last night the unexpected happened.

It was a cold night, my hands wrapped in fingerless gloves my mother-in-law made me so I could use the computer without catching frostbite. I was playing a game on the family computer, minding my own business, when I felt a disturbance in the force. Someone was sitting at my desk. I could sense them somewhere behind me. Thinking they were there to watch my awesome gaming skills, I let them be- after all, what harm could they do sitting in my desk chair?

My neck prickled. I hear the familiar ding of my laptop being booted. I wondered if the game used a similar sound, but no, not too many monster-slicing games have a soft ding booting sound. Then I heard something that made my blood run cold.

Bing, bong-bong, bong-bong! That was no game- someone was using my laptop! Risking whiplash, I turned in surprise to see my soon-to-be-deceased love of my life start up a blank document on my laptop. My laptop.

He was Touching. My. Stuff. Without my consent. This was a blatant breaking of husband/wife protocol.

"And what do you think you're doing?" I ask, glaring at him in a way that Medusa would envy. "Just writing up some stuff for my Men's Ministry." he replied oh-so-innocently. "On my laptop? The one that has all my writing stuff exclusively on it?" I was trying to give him a chance to back away slowly, and think about what he was doing.

Then he grinned at me, all smarty-pants-like. "Well, you're playing game, and I need to do this, so I thought I'd just get it done." I raised one brow significantly, giving him the subtle signal that his life (and bed space) might possibly be in jeopardy. "And just where were you going to save it?" I inquired, again, giving him a chance to explain himself before his demise.

"On the laptop, of course." was his reply, regarding me as if I was the one being unreasonable. Hah.

"That's my writing tool, my desk, and you get your ding-dang hands off of it! There is no saving of documents on my laptop- unless it's mine!" I folded my arms, indignant. "Besides, all you had to do was ask me to get off of this computer- then you can do whatever you want!" To make my point even more clear, I stuck my tongue at him.

Then he grinned again. "That's all I wanted to do in the first place."

Grumbling, I finished my level (doing exceptionally well, since most of the monsters were now named after him), and I relinquished the computer to my husband. I plan on buying a safe for my laptop, or hide it where no one will find it. Maybe in the laundry, or in the dishwasher- or possibly the oven, since no one around here does any chores. Willingly, anyway.

Nah. I'll just put up a big sign that says,' Touch My Stuff And Die!' on my laptop- and the chocolate.

Messy Mondays

2011-10-24T04:39:00.002-07:00

Why are Mondays so messy?

The entire family seems to take a vacation over the weekend, leaving the mess for the cleaning staff- which is me. My own fault, really- I was too busy folding laundry this morning to go downstairs and make sure all the mess-makers had straightened up before going to work and school. I came down to...chaos. And I bet if I yell at any of them about it when they get home, I'll hear a chorus of 'What mess?', since most of it will be taken care of.

Except for the 'hot spots'- those places where no matter how much you clean it off, it gets piled with stuff. Like the kitchen sink, the counters, the kitchen table, the computer desk, the floors, walls, windows and ceilings. All but those hot spots. The rest I clean myself. It takes me all week!

This is basically what my week looks like (and possibly yours):

Monday is Messy Day- the messiest day of the week.
Tuesday is Tornado Day- since that's my day off from the gym, I usually get the most cleaning done, but it still looks like a tornado hit the place and took all the good stuff.
Wednesday is Wonder Day- because it's a wonder I get anything done with cleaning, chores and my To-Do list.
Thursday is Thank-God-I'm-Almost-Done Day- this is when the house starts to look like people live here and not wild baboons.
Friday is Fabulous Day- the house is clean enough for company, as long as they aren't cleaning snobs. They only get invited once a year, during the holidays. The cats are unhappy that I picked up or tossed out all their playthings like empty, ripped-up boxes, shredded things that used to be cat toys, or socks and shirts they would hide under.
Saturday is Sabotage Day- all things concerning cleaning are ignored to go out and have fun. But the gnomes, seeing the house is empty, trash the place while we're out. I think the cats are working for them, so they have more toys.
Sunday is a Day of Rest- or it's supposed to be! I still have to cook and do dishes most of the time, and if my husband cooks, every pot and pan in the house is used and are abandoned in a pile to become fossilized for Monday.

If this is anything like your week, we need to get together for tea and have a chat. But only come on Friday, please. I might find my tea by then. Maybe.

Where Did The Time Go?

2011-10-13T07:40:00.000-07:00

I do believe that time continuum that resided on my stairs has now infected me. Why do none of these things ever happen to me in a good way I'll never know, but it did happen, and I think only the geniuses of this world can figure it out. I know I can't!

I'm not sure when it started, but I go to sit down for ten minutes, and it winds up being thirty...a five minute trip downstairs for something becomes an hour, and a one minute phone call turns into a series of them that can last all day.

Where does the time go?

Straight down the toilet, that's where. Or in my case, straight down the Internet. You don't mind talking to your buddy (even if you're busy) as long as your checking your emails while you chat. You can also do Facebook and some research for your next project while having a little lunch- until you find that talking cat video that went viral this morning and you just had to take a look really quick. Hah.

Computer games are just as bad. 'Oh, I'll just play until the next level, since I'm almost there' you tell yourself, but that time continuum takes over and it takes hours just to complete what was supposed to be an easy two minute level- that you had to beat by restarting it 270 times.

The day begins with you running ahead of schedule, and ends in chaos. It's inevitable, and you know it. So do all of your friends on Facebook, because you told them 113 times.

I'm just wondering if it's better to turn off the computer and smash all the clocks and go by the position of the sun instead- first sun is breakfast, high sun is lunch, and dimming sun is dinner- and really, isn't that all we really need to know?

The Difference Between Autumn and Fall

2011-10-05T06:48:00.000-07:00

Some call the season after summer Autumn, some call it Fall. But which one is it really? I shall help explain the differences.

Autumn is when the weather turns chilly and brisk.

Fall is what your arms do after changing out all the screens, remove the air conditioners, bleed out the radiators and get the furnace winterized.

Autumn is when the leaves turn all sorts of pretty colors and float to the ground.

Fall is what your legs do because of all the yard work- not only because you're still mowing the lawn, but raking all the leaves that blew from your neighbor's trees into your treeless yard- And tripping over yard tools.

Autumn is a time of apple pies, big meals and lots of company.

Fall is what your body does on the couch after too much baking, cooking, cleaning, and managing drama.

Autumn is beautiful, serene, and peaceful as everything outside settles down for winter.

Fall is when you get to see all that Autumn stuff out of a hospital bed window, because you overdid it- again.

That's the difference, and I'm sticking to it! So, what season it is for you> Autumn, or Fall?

What Memory?

2011-09-28T04:51:00.000-07:00

I have a mind like a sieve- with a big hole punched through it. Especially this morning.

As we awoke the the annoying beep of our alarm clock, my husband and I discussed that since today was Wednesday, I was to take the car to the mechanic to be fixed. I had it written down, so I actually remembered- at least until I got downstairs. Apparently there is a space/time continuum on the stairway, so it was Wednesday before I made it downstairs, yet by the time I got to the bottom of the step, it became Thursday.

It was Thursday, even though I knew the car had to go in for repair.
It was Thursday even though my kids have off Thursday and Friday, yet I was taking my daughter to school, and my son already left on his bus.
It was Thursday, and I had to check our account to see just how much food money we had, even though I had no way of getting to the store because I had no car, once I took the thing to the mechanic. Space/time continuum's can mess with your head. A lot.

I went into the account and noticed there was no deposit. He was not paid for the week. I panicked, because I had no money to go food shopping in a car I wouldn't have. I called my husband to see if they gave him a check instead.

I should have never called my husband.

With a concerned tone I told my story, only to hear silence on the other end. Then he told me in the most understanding, slightly amused voice that it was indeed Wednesday, not Thursday. I could hear him shaking his head and grinning. Then he told me I was losing it- and I had absolutely no way to argue the point. Dagnabbit.

So the time vortex disappeared, and it's now Wednesday again. Surprisingly I still have the car, my daughter is waiting patiently for me to finish this post so I can take her to school, and I have vowed to only do physical labor today, as my brain has temporarily turned to tapioca.

Mmmm...tapioca. Now I'm hungry. Maybe I'll have breakfast- oh wait, I already did.

I take solace in the fact that if I'm in fact losing my memory, I won't remember today by tomorrow- or maybe even an hour from now. But I'm sure my husband, ol' what-his-name will remind me.

Now where did I put those car keys?

Do What You're Good At

2011-09-22T05:38:00.000-07:00

Being a mom isn't the easiest job in the world, but it can be one of the best.

One thing I learned was not to compare myself to other moms, because we all 'mom' differently. Not better, but differently. There are some moms out there that can home-school, run a business, do church ministries, keep their house immaculate, all while raising their child(ren), whether they be their only child or a gaggle of twelve. Not all at the same time, mind you, but at least a few of these activities all while staying sane. But you have to pick what you're good at, and work around the rest.

As you know, I hate cleaning. I'm not great at it like my husband is- he can do in an hour what take me at least three, because he likes doing it (and yes, I am comparing, but just as an example!) I, on the other hand am much better at sewing and decorating (and writing), so any of those tasks that require crafting and dexterity usually fall to me. Both of us cook, so when he's home, we usually share that duty.

And I could never, ever homeschool. I simply cannot teach academics to my kids. They would never graduate, because I have the focus of Dory, the forgetful blue fish in Finding Nemo. Besides, my son would argue his way out of doing anything constructive, and would wear me down like an elephant's posterior on a termite mound. We both know I'd give in before the first hour, simply because my voice would give out. So to school they both must go.

Now if I was the Home Ec teacher, I would totally rock. Skills are something I can teach! Cooking, sewing, and yes, even cleaning I teach my kids, (though they take after me concerning attitudes on chores), and I do well- but the yard stuff I leave to my husband to bestow upon them his knowledge. I still can't tell a weed from an herb and have promised not to pull anything up since the 'Cilantro Incident'. I only re-pot plants, and that's about all I'm allowed to do.

I'm good at scheduling things, and am the Head Scheduler of the house- as long as I write it down. Remember I'm a lot like Dory, so if I don't write it down it gets lost in the gigabytes of my mind, and I won't find it again until I'm eighty. I also have many to do lists, and when I remember where I put them, I'll follow them.

Find out what you're good at, and work around the rest. The kids and my husband help me clean when they can, and I'm getting better and better at taking care of the house. I keep them all well fed, healthy and strong, and I teach the kids life skills they need when they're older and I kick them out. On occasion I save up enough money to pay someone to clean (which is totally worth it right before going away for a weekend camping trip), so everything works out for the best.

You might do it just like me. Or completely different. It doesn't matter, as long as it gets done and you're not in a strait-jacket by the end of the day. Staying sane and content is all that matters!

Do what you're good at. Work around the rest. And be happy knowing that God loves you no matter what you do!

The Whodunit Family

2011-09-19T08:12:00.000-07:00

We have gremlins. Not just any gremlins, but messy, maniacal house gremlins. Family Circus has named a couple of them- you know them as Ida Know and Not Me, but there are others, and I think they're using our house for a family reunion. I made raspberry punch for the occasion.

Let's go down the list, shall we?

There was Not Me and Ida Know's brother, Wasn't Me.
Daddy and Mommy Mighta Dunnit.
The twins, He and She Diddit.
Their pet rabbit, Sumbunny Else Diddit. (who was not house-trained, by the way- he blamed the mess on my cats)
The cousins, She Coulda Dunnit and He Probably Dunnit.
And their pointer named I Didn't Dewit, who keeps barking up the wrong tree.

They seemed to like our place and decided to stay a while. They must like to hide behind me- only my kids can see them because that's where they always point when declaring just which one of these gremlins did the deed in question. If I can't catch them, I can't evict them- and they don't pay rent, either.

So when my husband gets home and asks me where's dinner, I'll just tell him Ida Know and She Coulda Dunnit was supposed to, but I Didn't Dewit must have eaten it- then make reservations!

Schedule? What Schedule?!?

2011-09-15T14:28:00.000-07:00

I am an organized person- at least in my own mind.

You need a certain book? It's under this pile over here...you need that paper you printed out last week? Don't look in the file cabinet- it's in this pile, over here in the kitchen. I even made myself a schedule, so I'd know what I was doing this week. It's that paper I left somewhere under the table with all the scribbles across it.

Most times a schedule does work for me (provided it's not a minute-by-minute list), but this week was like being hit by a ram on a rollercoaster- the moment I finished one task, another popped up!

Why is it when I'm at my busiest, people want to call me and ask for favors? Why do people whom I haven't seen since before birth decide to call me right before I'm walking out of the door? Why is it, when I make a perfectly sane schedule, everyone but the cats decide they need something? Oh, eventually the cats do come to me too, but only when I'm using the computer mouse- then they want to sit on my clicking hand, rub their tails over my nose and get all growly-purrin' and friendly.

And why is it that when next week comes around and I have nothing scheduled, I won't get a single phone call- at least until I'm in the bathroom! Even the cats will ignore me, unless I bribe them with treats.

It's a lot like the 'job' thing- you get a better job if you already have a job. but try and get one after you quit, and it's like you have employment leprosy- no one will hire you. Scheduling is like that. When it's full, it's really full. When it's not, you can decipher the outside temperature by all the cricket chirps.

So here's today advice- if you want to stay busy, only fill your schedule half full to allow room for chaos. If you want a nap, don't schedule anything that day.

And lastly, the disclaimer- if you happen to tell anyone your schedule is empty, the universal vibes will resound with a need to fill that void with callers, emails, and doorbell-ringers, so if you want some time to yourself, keep your yap shut.

I am not responsible for relatives coming to move in with you because you told a cousin you were going away that week, or for the baby rewiring the vacuum so all it does is spew dust everywhere when you wanted to take a nap, and I am certainly not taking any responsibility for all the food in your house getting eaten and your couch slept on because you told me you were gone for the weekend, and I needed a break! Nope, not one iota of responsibility, because you just had to tell someone. Shame on you.

In the meantime I have a lot of emails to answer, then make dinner, wash the house, paint the carpet...you know, the usual stuff.

So...what's on your schedule?

It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year!

2011-09-07T07:03:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite commercials is when the dad is riding the cart filled with school supplies like a little kid, and his kids look completely miserable, all to the tune of 'It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year". And I know exactly how that guy feels!

I love my kids more than chocolate, but they can work a nerve like nobodies business! If it isn't my son arguing with me about everything from dinner to dust specks, it's my daughter coming in-and-out of the house every 3.2 seconds asking if she can take the contents of her room outside to play.

The downside is I lost my workforce concerning chores, and no water-fetchers when I'm thirsty. I have to get my own water now, but the price for this extra cardio workout is worth the price- the freedom to raid the fridge without sharing! I swear those kids could be dead asleep in bed on the second floor, and I'd be under a bathtub in the basement with sound-proof padding all around me, open a candy bar, and they'd be there before the second crinkle of candy wrap, asking for some.

Call me a bad role model, but sometimes I just don't want to share my stuff with the kids! Especially if it's related to chocolate. And forget about opening a new bag of chocolate chips because you had a PMS moment- it could be hidden in the pantry for five years, but the second you open it, get a handful and tuck it back in it's hiding place and leave the area, they descend upon it like rabid weasels, eating the entire thing when you're not looking. A little later you go back for another handful, only to find they left the shredded remnants of the bag behind.

When the kids are at school, the moms will play!

Yesterday I ate lunch all by myself while reading a magazine. I nearly fainted from bliss! And I get to do it again today!

Not to mention I also get to do what I want, watch what I want, and play all the music I want! If this isn't heaven, it's pretty darn close. Right now, I'm a happy camper!

Until the shiny wears off and I truly start to miss my kids (okay, I miss them a little but I'm enjoying myself too much right now), I am going to turn up my music, sew in my sewing room, write on my laptop, and eat lunch while watching my programs with no interruptions. It's almost like a vacation!

Let the adventure begin!

Closed Doors, Opened Windows!

2011-08-30T08:27:00.000-07:00

Life is full of quirks.

Change is inevitable, and the irony of it all is that the only thing that doesn't change is change! And this time I don't mean menopause.

God closed a door when I received a rejection notice from the syndicate. But that doesn't mean I'm giving up. I just need to find a new window! And since last week, I have found many.

Let's just call these ideas 'Windows of Opportunity', or 'Whoa' for short- like 'Whoa, Dude! That's totally awesome!' For the record, any window of opportunity should be considered awesome. Totally.

Window Number One- Books. I could focus entirely on books. Women's Lit, fantasy, children's stories, cookbooks, How-to's and craft books. I have enough notes to write several of each at the moment!

Window Number Two- Self Syndication. Since the syndicate didn't work out, I can do it myself with a lot of elbow grease. I can also sell articles to magazines. Family humor isn't a high commodity (oddly enough) but information is. I'm full of a lot of things, and information is one of them!

Window Number Three- Blogging Website. Using my blog as a springboard, I can sell products and services. Not too sure about this one, but I have no problem endorsing things I use myself- that's one thing i won't compromise! For instance, You'll never see me endorsing diet pills or spray for jock itch. But I would definitely have ads for M&M's! Just a few ads that are self-picked, mind you. I hate going to a family site and seeing ads flash from something family friendly to a half-naked woman selling lingerie!
As for the services, I'm working on something that I used to do for friends and family that was really fun- but I won't tell you what it is just yet! Let's just say I used to have the online title of SillyPoet!

Lots to think and pray about, and new skills to learn. Who said life slows down after forty? It's more like a downhill run!

Cha-Cha-Cha-Cha-Changes?

2011-08-17T06:31:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling hostile. Why am I feeling hostile? I'll tell you why-

I have no idea!

It started out as any other day a few days ago, and something set me off- someone blinked too loud, somebody else yawned, and the cats were giving me the stink-eye because I didn't cater to their petting whims-especially when Scootch decided to sit on my mouse as I was using it.

This Momma Bear hostility has been building and building ever since. Then I realized I'm probably on the edge of menopause. If this is just the edge of it, I'm in big trouble!

I remember when my mother went through it- she would have given a charging dragon pause. But since there aren't any dragons to wrestle, she took her hormones out on the family instead, yelling at me for folding the socks wrong or dad for being male. We gave her a wide berth for the next five years.

I consider myself lucky- I have more people to vent my spleen on (including the cats), so if I spread it around enough, the family won't lock me in the basement. My husband is a lucky man- he's doing overtime for the next three weeks and I'll hardly see him. In the meantime I have to find other ways of getting rid of this aggressive mind-set other than Velcroing the kids to the wall and shaving the cats.

Then I came to an awesome conclusion.

Women going through the Big Pause should have chew toys. They should make them look like chocolate cake, ribs, or a certain male body part. But they don't make those kind as chew toys. But pet stores are a different story. Right now I'd favor the rubber chicken leg or the steak, minus the squeaker- The noise would just annoy me further.

And why do they call it menopause anyway? It's not a pause, it's a stop. A slowing-to-a-stop kind of stop. An annoying kind of stop. Well, it's annoying to me at the moment- but people breathing near me is annoying, so maybe I'm just biased.

But I don't think I'll last five years. That's a lot of chew toys.

I wonder just how comfortable I'll be in the basement. I think if I had my laptop and some sewing projects, my chew toys and a couch, I'd be fine. At least people wouldn't be blinking and breathing around me all the time.

Maybe I'll take a walk to the local pet store and see what they have. I wonder if they'll sell me a chew toy if it's for my use. If the cashier is a woman, I bet she'll sell me two, because she understands!

If you need me, I'll probably be locked in the basement, chewing on my brand-new chicken leg and possibly a box of chocolate.

To Each Her Own Diet...Sort Of...

2011-08-10T04:12:00.001-07:00

I was encouraged to go to a weight loss support group and finally decided to go. It was an informative meeting in many ways- but when it came down to everyone talking about their particular menu choices, things got hotter than a butter-greased griddle- Especially when I told them what I normally ate!

"What did you have for breakfast?" I was asked. "Three eggs with ham or bacon, depending on what's in the fridge." was my reply. I was going to tell them that sometimes I have a wedge of cheddar cheese too (a thin one, but still) when one buddy of mine made a face.

'Three eggs?' she replied with a grimace worthy of the Grinch. 'You know that many eggs every day will kill you...right?' This from a woman who eats bacteria (aka yogurt) for breakfast and soybeans (probably genetically modified) as a main part of her diet. But she's losing weight eating it, so I said nothing.

The leader was a nurse, and said she was going to start me off by cutting out at least one egg yolk from my plate. What the heck can I do with a leftover egg yolk? I looked it up- you can make some really awesome pudding with egg yolks! But I got some dirty looks when I mentioned it. 'You need to stop eating sugar too,' one lady replied. I told them I'm keeping my yolk in my scrambled eggs then, thank you very much!

One lady said she stopped eating meat. another said she ate more veggies than anything else. All of these things were addressed with smiles and nods of approval. I however, despite the fact that I've lost twenty-one pounds by eating a protein-rich diet with veggies and yes, fats like butter, got looks from some of the other ladies as if I asked them to eat a live roach.

I told them that not all 'diets' work for everyone. Some people do better on vegetables, some on protein, some do great on grains; but you can't bust on people if it's working for them. Now if I was gaining weight, it would be a different story! I would defer to the people of greater knowledge and take that yolk out. But my blood work is good, and I'm healthy on the inside- I'm just not 'fit'.

I promised I would do more cadio- I go to a gym three times a week and do light weight training, but I really need to get the ticker pumping for more than five minutes. The response was nods around the table, some bearing the expression 'You better' on their faces. I'll probably walk to the next meeting, as well as everywhere else I can think of. And next time, I'm coming armed with information to the naysayers about processed foods and their genetically modified counterparts.

Don't play with the cow, ladies...you'll get the udders.

And it won't be skim milk, either!

When You Look Into the Mirror

2011-08-04T05:47:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wish we had a mirror that would not only show us what we look like, but who we actually are. But only sometimes.

When things are going well, I'd like to see my reflection echoing back confidence, self-assurance, and yes, someone who is much, much thinner than me. I want to see my inner beauty.

But the down side is that these mirrors would also show us the uglier sides of ourselves as well. It's not all bling and glitter. In fact, I'm sure many of us would see something similar to Jabba the Hutt when we look at our true selves. I know I would!

Frankly, seeing my true self in the mirror would give me a serious case of the heebie-geebies. Why? Because I know I'm a mess. I just don't want others to know how messed up. And I'm not telling you neither- So there. Nyah, nyah!

But what would we do if we did see the monsters within ourselves? Would we make any changes? I'm betting we would- at least for the most part. Say someone looked into the mirror and saw a gnarled, ugly old Scrooge? After seeing that self-revelation, it would be hard to ignore the image when you found yourself being selfish or greedy. It would be a neat way of doing a reality check, if they truly did exist.

Imagine having mirrors like that. The world might be better if we did.

The National Debt- An Old School Solution

2011-08-03T15:05:00.000-07:00

Every other day I hear on the radio, or on the TV - "Four Days Until the Nation Defaults"..."Three More..."..."Two More"..."We Have a Solution! Extend The Debt And Save Trillions!"

Excuse me, but HUH?!? How do you pay the debt by allowing more of it? It sounds a lot like a shopoholic- you have no money in the bank, but you're ahead thousands....or in this case, trillions.

Please.

What we need is an old -school solution to this problem. But it requires both the government and our own elbow grease to do it!

First, to the government- stop giving money to other countries! How can we possibly get out of debt if we're giving it all away to countries that don't know how to handle money in the first place? Would you hand an infant twenty bucks and send them to the store? You're better off funding missionaries from this country and send them in- at least they know what they're doing!

Second, pull back our troops. They don't want to be there, the foreign countries don't want them there, and we don't want them there. Stop wasting lives and bring our guys back to the US for terrorist lookout duty.

Third, cut funding to stupid research. No one needs to know the life cycle of dirt, or that naked mole rats are truly naked. Leave that to the people at Nova.

Fourth, Cut all politicians salaries down to those of the lower-middle class or lesser. This country's original leaders weren't paid a lot because they were given power instead- it kept them humble. We could use some humility in the government right now. This one alone could pay down a lot of the debt after the first five years!

Fifth, Take care of our own. No freebies for illegal aliens. No papers, we show you the door until you have the proper documents. Limited help for legal aliens until they become a citizen. And once they become a citizen, they get treated the same as we do.

Sixth, fix the health care system. Get everything done the same day, with the same doctor. Not only will you save time, but the gasoline saved from the millions of trips back and forth alone would not only save us money as consumers, but make the environment healthier!

Seventh, get someone who actually knows how to budget in the White House- Several someones. Either that or find a way to teach these people that raising the credit limit of a debt doesn't mean you're paying it off- especially when nothing was done to stop the debt from growing! It's like trying to stop a broken water pipe with band-aids- it just ain't gonna work!

And last, but not least, bringing back the family structure. Moms and Dads staying together in one house. One goes to work, one stays home. I know it sounds simple, but look at it this way- if 50,000 people (that's 25,000 couples) did this instead of having both parents working (and let's say many of these families were just using the second job to buy a lot of luxuries), that's a whopping 25,000 more jobs that would help others who have no job. The unemployment rate is close to ten percent at the moment!

That's a lot of people out of work. And that would be a lot of jobs available that would allow people to get off of welfare.

If we just sacrificed a little of the extras with one parent staying home, you'd save money on day care and sitters, and your kids will be brought up by you, not some stranger, so they'll be taught your values. They in turn become better citizens, and stay out of trouble a lot more often than if you weren't there at all. I'm not saying Junior won't ever get into trouble (not telling you how I know that!), but it should be to a much lesser degree if we pay attention to them. And it's good for kids not to get everything they ask for either; sacrifices are often character builders!

I think too many of these politicians needed a good swat up-side the head when they were kids. Some need a good swat now.

It's too bad I'm on the other side of the country- it's a far walk to the White House!

The Calm Before the Blessing....

2011-07-25T06:36:00.000-07:00

There's an apprehension right before a thunderstorm...the sense that the world is muffled; birds streak for the trees but don't utter a sound, the wind stills, and there is an expectancy in the air of something big and powerful about to happen.

Then you start to feel it....

The wind picks up, then you begin to feel cool droplets of rain. The lower clouds scuttle underneath their bigger brothers- but then the rain stops, and the wind dies down again. You know it's not over, but you're disappointed. Where was the big show? The lightning, the thunder? It'll come, the storm promises, but not yet. Be patient.

This is where I am with God. He's making me wait again.

I love to watch thunderstorms. The excitement as a flash of lightning makes me jump, thunder booming so loud it makes the cats run for cover, tails fluffed so full they look like my static dusters. Such as it is with blessings, without the fluffy-tail part. When blessings come, it can be just as exciting (or more-so!) than any thunderstorm.

When they get here, that is!

When you get a raindrop instead of the expected downpour, it's hard to be thankful for that raindrop. It's like winning a dollar in the 'Win Millions' lottery- you won something, but (in the illustrious words of Garfield the cat) Big, Fat, Hairy Deal.

But that dollar is a dollar more than you had, and that raindrop did wet your tongue a little. You can feel God moving in the undercurrents of your life. You know something fantazmagorical is going to happen soon. That doesn't mean you don't want everything to happen now. 'You', of course, meaning me.

Dear God, You are eternal, and my lifespan is like a gnat compared to You. Please-oh-please-oh-please let something good happen soon! Either that, or make me live longer so I can wait!

Oh sure, I could ask for patience, but I'd want it right now, and I don't think He's in the mood to hear me whine.

I'll go pray some more, and find more things to write about to keep me busy. In the meantime, I'll thank Him for my droplets, but prepare my buckets for the rain!

I'm Melting!

2011-07-18T10:02:00.000-07:00

I just turned on the radio. We're in the middle of another heat wave, the announcer says. Like I can't tell that by watching my sneakers melt.

In fact, I'm melting. Even with the air conditioning on full blast, I'm sweating like a racehorse. But all I'm losing is water, not a single ounce of it is fat. Otherwise I would be happy to turn off the AC entirely and sit in a baby pool butt naked until I was 110 pounds!

Humidity kills me. If there's an ounce of water in the air, I can feel it suppressing my breath, covering my skin in perspiration, and making me feel grungy- even if I'd just finished taking a shower! My hair falls about my face in a million little sopping wet ringlets, yet I never feel sexy like those ads they have at the gym. Melting into a little puddle of sweat isn't sexy- I feel like a wax statue under too many spotlights.

And heaven forbid I try to take in a little cold water- it either evaporates on the way down, or gives me brain freeze that lasts three hours. I feel a lot better when I dump the ice-water over my head though- now my ringlets are a bit more sexy, because I can smile without my lips melting off!

I'm looking down at my radio, which is slowly transforming into a pool of plastic and wire. The announcer begins to sound garbled, like his lips are sliding off his face. Time to go.

I'm going to climb into the freezer to cool off. Remember to keep that AC on, leave some ice in the pet's water dish, and then come join me before my lemonade freezes! There's always room for one more!

I Have to Wait?!?

2011-07-08T07:20:00.000-07:00

What is God doing to me?

There's a lot of stuff going on here, but I have to wait for it. I want to have a yard sale NOW. No, I have to wait. I want to get a new house NOW. No, I have to wait. I want the syndicate to call me, NOW. NOW would be really good. In fact, NOW would be monumentally fantastic! But no- I have to wait.

Patience is a virtue that I simply do not posses. Not even a mustard seed's worth.

It's beginning to affect my everyday life too. I want dinner NOW. But I have to cook it first. I want to lose weight NOW. But I have to eat right and go to the gym for the next five years. I want the perfect life NOW. But I pretty much have to die first. Well, that one I don't mind waiting a little bit longer for. I just hate waiting for stuff!

I don't think I'd mind so much if some things came NOW and some later- at least there would be a sense of moving forward, some feeling of closure; but having to wait for almost everything makes me feel as if I'm in quicksand, and the vine is just out of reach. I can't get my hands on it, because I have to work my way towards it first. And that takes time.

I know God does everything good, and He does so in His time, but He is eternal, and my lifespan is like that of a gnat compared to Him! He's got all eternity to do what He wants! And He's going to make me wait?!?

You bet your boots He is.

If I got everything I wanted right away, I would be a spoiled brat. He makes me wait (especially for the bigger stuff) because He wants me to learn patience, pray and work for it. Patience isn't in my genes; He has to teach me. And I am quite the lousy student!

I've decided to change my mindset to one of anticipation instead of irritation. Like a kid waiting for his birthday party- It's better to look forward to having all your friends over than to be grumpy because they aren't there yet!

I still want stuff NOW, but I'll wait. I'll have to wait- I don't have much of a choice in the matter! But I'll enjoy the wait, because God is indeed, good.

And when is He good? NOW!

Brain Meltdowns

2011-07-05T05:01:00.000-07:00

I think too much.

There's so much going on in life lately that all I want to do is just curl up into a little ball with some chocolate, and hide under the bed for a month with the cats.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say I was hyper kinetic- that means my brain never shuts off. But I sleep, so I guess not. But I know I'm close.

I think about all the financial finagling we have to do in order to look for a house. I think about how to schedule my life around the kids summer schedule. I think about how I'll find time for writing, cooking, sewing, de-cluttering and face-painting. Yes, I do face-painting too...it's going to help with the financial finagling part. My thoughts are like the Internet- everything is connected to everything else, with no site blockers to help me slow down.

At one point there is so much to think about, my brain turns into jello and I stare into the abyss of a messy living room, unable to come up with a single synapse of brain function. And that's usually when the kids ask me for stuff.

I stare at them blankly. They smile (knowing I'm in 'meltdown mode'), repeat their request as if they're doing me a favor, and I nod with the enthusiasm of a sleep-deprived zombie. Some time later when I begin to show life once more, I see both kids on the computer, eating and drinking everything they shouldn't with blissful glee. I know better than to argue with the kids at this point- they could outwit me in a heartbeat. I schlump into the kitchen to wash dishes, in hopes my brain comes back for a visit.

Eventually my brain returns from it's mental hiatus, and I'm back on track- sort of. Things are still a bit fuzzy, but at least I can respond with more than one syllable! Things start to organize themselves in my mind, and I can start setting priorities on my elongated list. I stop thinking long enough to get some actual work done. Okay, so I never stop thinking, but when I focus on something physical (like dishes), I can let my mind wander to work on the other stuff I have to do.

I think I need to a new mantra. Too many times I find myself over-thinking matters that should only get ten percent of the time I actually spend on them, and Just Do It. But Nike already took that one, so I have to go with my own. Get Er Done! Nope...taken. Stop Thinking, Start Doing? Nope, I don't want to stop thinking, it's a writer's main tool. Stop Stopping, Start Starting? Nope, that won't work either. Hmm....

I need to do some serious thinking about this...don't you think? ;)

Mind Blowing Weightloss Discoveries!

2011-06-29T04:39:00.000-07:00

You hear it all over the place. 'Take this and lose twelve pounds a day!' or 'Drink/Eat this and lose weight overnight!' It's all over our world, thanks to TV, radio and all of those other media devices that give me a headache just thinking about them. But do any of these 'diets' really work?

Some conglomerates have turned dieting into a business, making 'special' diet foods just for us fatties who need to look like Tyra Banks for that wedding next week (Love you Tyra, if you're reading this!). But the funny thing is, I have never seen a thin person eating any of these specially-made meals. Ever.

Thin people don't eat diet food! Nor do they take diet pills (at least those who are naturally thin). So what gives? Do they have some great secret?

Yep. And I've been watching those teeny-weenies just to learn it. (insert evil chuckle here) Want to know what it is?

I'm not going to tell you yet. But read what I did to learn the answer.

I watched as thin people ate. They enjoyed their food without it being the center point of their lives. And when they were full, they stopped eating. Even if they went to one of those all-you-can-eat buffets. If that was me, I'd get my money's worth three times over and waddle out of that place in serious need of an ambulance and some Tums.

What did they eat? Some had salad, some had fried foods, but most of them enjoyed the same stuff we do- they just didn't overdo it. And they drank water along with the regular drinks during the meal. Nothing really special, and no 'diet' platters. Not even diet soda.

But what do thin people do? I watched this also, and I can tell you that they are quite active. Moving almost all the time, but not always 'exercising'. Walking, taking the steps instead of the elevator...even moving as they sit at their desks in the office! And yes, some skinnies went to the gym, but they were more into the track and cardio stuff than weight training.

It sounds eerily familiar, doesn't it? Could it be that the answer is so simple? Could it be that there is no miracle drug or processed food that can make us thin overnight? And the worst thought yet- could it be that I might have to work to get this weight off?

The answer is....yes, dagnabbit. The Great Secret, the Skinny on the Skinny is this; these people get thin and stay that way is to....*gasp* Diet and Exercise.

And I don't mean 'diet' as in 'starve yourself until you faint', but 'see what your body needs and give it that'. Don't eat until you're stuffed- eat until you're body is satisfied- and that's usually portions about the size of your fist. Thin people don't usually eat a lot- unless they have the metabolism of a rabbit on caffeine.

Most thin people don't go to a gym, because they're constantly moving. I see them walking their dogs, jogging on the park trails, or just walking around the block on their work break. Not all do, but most of the people I watched did!

They enjoyed food without using it to comfort themselves. Weird. They actually liked walking a few miles in the park. I like walking when it's not too hot/cold/humid/dry/sunny/rainy or snowy. Okay, that's a lie; I like walking in the park during low humidity when the sun is out and it's abut 72.6 degrees. I think it happens twice a year. Then I start to sweat and make my way home.

I decided to take matters into my own hands- I talked to these thin people. And guess what? Some had tried the diet pills, or the conglomerates, and they only offered temporary results (and some lovely side effects). But when they changed their diets (some had food allergies to their surprise!) and started moving on a regular basis, their weight came off. For some it took a few weeks (just a few pounds) and for others it took months or years, depending on how much they wanted to lose. But they did it.

Some were thin all their lives and just lived life, not really understanding how someone could have 'let themselves go' like that. Let's just say there were some interesting conversations!

All in all, there is no quick fix. There is no rapid weight loss plan out there, unless you plan on working out six hours a day like they do on Biggest Loser. Basically, if you plan on sitting there like a lump, all you get is bigger, fatter lumps.

As for me, I'm going to the gym to work off my lumps, but I realize I need to do more cardio. Walking and swimming will be the first two on the list. Walking, because it gets me out of the house, and swimming because fat floats! And I like being in the water.

Strange but true....Diet and exercise as the answer! Who would've thunk it?

Verbal Fertilizer

2011-06-27T04:49:00.000-07:00

We've all dealt with it at some point- verbal fertilizer (otherwise known as B.S.), permeates our lives every day, and we all need to recognize it! It can be a good thing, but most times it just gets in our way. So what kinds of verbal fertilizer am I talking about?

Gossip- 'Did you hear about....?' usually starts this one off on the latest dirt about friends, family and the latest neighborhood drama. Our hearing instantly becomes sharper when we catch this particular phrase in passing, and not one of us is immune to the temptation to eavesdrop on someone else's business, good or bad.

Bragging- 'That's nothing- wait until you hear what I did....' only makes us roll our eyes and seek out forgotten (yet non-existent) obligations. Some even revel in this one-upsmanship even if the event was horrible; if you nearly died in an accident, these people would reply..."That's nothing, I died twice, and I broke a nail clawing my way out of the coffin!"

Complaining- I heard a pastor say it would be interesting having our words smell like our attitude. Complaining would carry the odor of that rotting fuzzy green fruit lying in our crisper, giving off a stench that would gag a goat. Okay, so the didn't say that last part, but it's still an interesting idea. Would people would stop complaining if that happened? Maybe. Either that or breath mint sales would skyrocket.

False Flattery- 'You have the nicest children!' she said to the mother of the Children of the Corn...this does nothing to help the person in question, and makes the flatterer look foolish. Mean what you say, but don't be mean when you say it. And if what you plan on saying can't be taken as anything but mean, then don't say it at all. False flattery might get you somewhere in the short-term, but in the end, it will catch up with you- like chili through a toddler.

So, is there good verbal fertilizer? I would say yes- just not the B.S. kind.

Speak truthfully, yet tactfully. Give real compliments of something you admire in someone. Brag about friends and family. Anything said that will grow a person instead of tearing them down. That's the good stuff! Especially waiting before speaking!

Think on this- a farmer has a lot of cow and horse poo. If he puts it on the field right away he'll do more damage to the soil because the poo will ferment, making heat and 'burning' the soil. But if he let's it dry out first and then puts it on the field, it helps the plants grow! So hold on to that poo you planned on dealing- it might just take a little drying before it can be used to better the world around you- and isn't that the best kind of verbal fertilizer after all?

Need Vs. Want- The Championship Playoff!

2011-06-20T08:47:00.000-07:00

You'd think it would be simple- need means you can't live without it, and want means you can live without it but may not want to. Sometimes that line gets blurred and we find wants turning into needs.

We want a lot of stuff, but we don't need a lot of stuff. The wants become needs when we feel the want is needed and the needs we really need don't get needed as much as we want because we think we need what we actually want even though it's a want and not truly a need at all....well, you get the idea.

So let me make things perfectly clear. Sometimes a want can become a need, but a need will never become a want. And this is how you can tell the difference.

Basic needs are this- food (so we don't die), clothing (so we don't get arrested), and shelter (so we don't get sick and die from exposure to the elements). Supplemental needs would be work (so we can eat, have clothing, and shelter) and play (so we gain social skills and have relationships). However, if we are doing something that is supplemental, but is denying us the basics, that is a want, and not a true need.

For instance:
You have an online business. The computer is a need because it provides work so you can have the basics. But if you're playing Facebook games all the time and forget to cook for the family (or go shopping, or eat lunch), then the computer becomes a want. Don't ask me how I know this.

Ask yourself: Do I need this to live? At first you might say yes (especially if it's chocolate related), but take a good long look at it. Is it a true need or a real want? You might be surprised.

Let's look at another subject. Clothing. There's nothing wrong with wearing nice things, but if that dress you 'need' will make you dip into your mortgage to afford it, you might want to put it back and look at the clearance rack. You can still look good in a Wal-mart T-shirt instead of designer wear that costs you your first child at the register. Especially if you have a nice kid. Go for the T-shirt. Seriously.

What brought on this epiphany? I have to declutter my house and sell the stuff I don't need. And as I look upon book-filled shelves that would make a librarian faint, I'm thinking that I can get rid of one or two...hundred. Maybe. It's a want thing, not a need thing, and I know it. And this is going to be one heck of a yard sale!

I'm even looking at my *GASP!* kitchen gadgets. I don't care that I haven't used it in three years (okay...decades), you know the second I get rid of it I'll need it for something! Kind of like alligator repellent. You know it works because you've never see one on your house. In the city. On the second floor. So why get rid of it?

Well, I am getting rid if it. I hate to admit it, but I do love to collect gadgets and never use them. So this week and the next will be huge clean out, and then we're going to have our first ever yard sale in twelve years. There's a lot of want we don't need.

Take a look around your house. Is there something you can donate to a thrift shop that you never use? Or is there a lot of stuff that you could hold a yard sale and get rid of it all? You might be surprised- I know I was!

If You Had One Wish...

2011-06-13T03:40:00.000-07:00

If you had only one wish in the world, what would it be? I gave this a great deal of thought, and here's what I came up with:

Not world peace. Oh sure, I want world peace, but my wish would depend on other people behaving themselves. This just ain't gonna happen. So the wish would have to involve something I could do, personally.

Not have super powers. Melting metal with my eyeballs or flying would be totally cool, but unrealistic. A little super is okay, as long as it's within reason.

Not be a bazillionare. Yes, money is important, but not the end-all be-all of life. I thought about wishing for a pocket that filled with money when I needed it, but it's pretty much the same thing as a bazillionare- without the investing.

So what's my wish? I wish I could understand all languages, whether they be spoken, gestured, or written. We use only ten percent of our brains, so this is entirely possible. It also would be really cool on so many levels!

One- I could translate the original text of the Bible and other ancient writings accurately.

Two- I could help others communicate with each other all over the world.

Three- I could finally understand those overheard conversations that start out in English, but switch over to another language when it gets to the good part! You know what I mean... those conversations on the bus or other public place that start out...'Oh, I know what she did was horrible, yet funny at the same time! And guess what else she did? Spinkel del poodie foose snarkle beese arbit!" (if that is even close to another language, please forgive me, I know not what I type!) At least if I had this translation ability, I could understand what she was saying!

Four- It would be really cool seeing the faces of people who think I have no idea what they're talking about, then find out that I totally understood them!

It's nice to think about wishes, but it's even nicer enjoying reality, at least once in a while. I'm going to spend my reality petting the cats for a bit before I start my morning routine!

So.... what would your wish be?

Poetry Down the Lane

2011-06-10T03:43:00.001-07:00

Ever play the game 'Whisper Down the Lane'? It starts with a line of people and the first person whispers something in the second person's ear. Then it goes to the next and the next until the last person announces what she heard- and usually it's way off the mark of the original.

That's what happened with the Muffin Poem. Here is my original poem:

If You Give a Mom a Muffin
By Beth Brubaker

If you give a mom a muffin,
she'll want a cup of coffee to go with it.
She'll pour herself some.
Her three year-old will come and spill the coffee.
Mom will wipe it up.
Wiping the floor, she will find dirty socks.
She'll remember she has to do laundry.
When she puts the laundry into the washer,
she'll trip over shoes and bump into the freezer.
Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan supper.
She will get out a pound of hamburger.
She'll look for her cookbook
(How to Make 101 Things With a Pound of Hamburger.)
The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail.
She will see the phone bill, which is due tomorrow.
She will look for her checkbook.
The checkbook is in her purse,
which is being dumped out by her two year-old.
Then she'll smell something funny.
She'll change the two year-old.
While she is changing the two year-old, the phone will ring.
Her five year-old will answer and hang up.
She'll remember she was supposed to phone a friend
to come over for coffee.
Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup.
She will pour herself some more.
And chances are,
if she has a cup a coffee,
her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it.

Now, one of the more popular versions that have been 'tweaked': (changes from the original in bold print)

If You Give a Mom a Muffin

If you give a mom a muffin,
She'll want a cup of coffee to go with it.
So she'll pour herself some.
The coffee will get spilled by her three year old.
She'll wipe it up.

Wiping the floor, she will find some dirty socks.
She'll remember she has to do some laundry.
When she puts the laundry in the washer,
She'll trip over some snow boots and bump into the freezer.
Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan supper for tonight.

She will get out a pound of hamburger.
She'll look for her cookbook. (101 Things To Make With a Pound of
Hamburger.)
The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail.
She will see the phone bill which is due tomorrow.
She will look for the checkbook.

The checkbook is in her purse that is being dumped out by her two year old.
She'll smell something funny.
She'll change the two year old.
While she is changing the two year old the phone will ring. (Of course!)
Her five year old will answer it and hang up.

She remembers that she wants to phone a friend to come over for coffee on
Friday.
Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup.
She will pour herself some.
And chances are,
If she has a cup of coffee,
Her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it.

I have no idea where the snow boots came from, or why Friday was added, but this is what was being sent around by that 'other' author. And she totally messed up my cadence- nobody messes with my cadence...they get hung by their toes and flogged with wet noodles.

Then it gets even better! (Yes, I'm starting to have fun with this folks!) This version I just found, and I think she takes things to the extreme....kinda. My comments are in blue.

If you give a (Mormon homeschooling) mom a muffin....

A friend of mine wrote this, based on the book "If You Give a Moose a Muffin"....I'm not sure, but I think what she wrote is based on an actual day with her kids.
(No Dearheart, she based it on my poem. But go ahead and post this- it's a lot more than I ever wrote!)

If You Give a (Mormon Homeschooling) Mom a Muffin…

She will want some orange juice to go with it. (no, no, no...coffee.)
She will pour some orange juice into a glass, and go to put the pitcher in the fridge.
When she turns around, the 7 year-old will be drinking the orange juice.
She will say “Hey!”, startling the 7 year old who will spill the remaining orange juice on the table, chairs and floor.
She will get two dishrags and teach the 7 year old how to properly clean up a spill.
While she is wiping up the floor, the phone will ring.(at least this was part of the original- Though not together like this.)
She will jump up to get the phone, knocking the back of her head on the table.
The 4 year old will beat her to the phone (of course!)
(The four year old does NOT take messages.) (a foreshadow that she hung up the phone without taking a message. Of course.)(of course.)
While she is trying to get the phone from the 4 year old, the baby will begin screaming and the 6 year old will run and hide.
She will pick up the baby as the 4 year old hangs up the phone. (See? I told ya!)(of course.)
She will begin searching for the 6 year old…in the linen closet….
She will find the stack of bills she has been looking for all week. (Huh? In the linen closet??)
She will remember that the utility bill is due tomorrow and go looking for her checkbook. (sorta kinda from the original)
She will find that the 4 year old has dumped the entire contents of the purse onto the floor and is applying lip gloss to her eyebrows. (Okay, the first part is like mine, but I do like this line about the lip gloss!)
She will go to the laundry room (and doesn't do laundry for six more lines) to fetch a diaper wipe, and will slip on the remaining orange juice.
She will crash onto her rear and start the baby screaming again.
The 6 year old will giggle from in hiding. (the pantry?)
She will stand up, console the baby and head toward the laundry room for that diaper wipe.
She will find the dryer door open (with her shin) and full of wet clothes.
She will call the 10 year old to finish her chore. (okay, so her kid does the laundry)
The 7 year old will show up asking for help with a math problem.
The math problem is about hamburgers.(another foreshadow)
She will remember that she is supposed to take dinner to the new mother down the street.
She will get a pound of hamburger out of the freezer and look for her cookbook “101 Things to do with a pound of Hamburger”. (this looks pretty darn close to the original!)
She will step over the contents of her purse (apparently dumped by the four year old, hint, hint)(where is the 4 year old now??), carefully side-step the orange juice, and start going through the recipe books.
The phone will ring. Again. (of course…)
The 4 year old will beat her to the phone (of course!)
The 4 year old does not take messages (remember?)
The baby will ”explode” in his diaper. (Wow. way to be subtle about the diaper needing to be changed!)
The 6 year old will giggle again (the pantry?)
She will side-step the orange juice, step over the contents of her purse, and head back to the laundry room to change the baby.(again, sorta from the original)
Digging through the laundry basket for clean baby clothes will remind her that she is still wearing pajamas.
She will strip to the skin and find clean clothes for Mom too…
The doorbell will ring … (of course!)
The 4 year old will beat her to the door (of course!)
It is the neighbor girl selling girl scout cookies.
She will send the 10-year old to sort through the contents of her purse for money to buy some Samoas.
The 10 year old, the 7 year old, and the 4 year old all surface, asking to have some.
She says “Yes” so she can get dressed in peace. (no you can't.)
The baby starts crying.
She steps over the contents of her purse, side-steps the orange juice, walks around the cookie crumbs and collapses in the rocker to nurse.
The phone rings. AGAIN! (of course!)
The 4 year old beats her to the phone (of course!!)
The 10 year old snatches the phone from the 4 year old and reports that it is Daddy.
Daddy wants to know A) why the 4 year old has been answering the phone all morning and B) if she can scan and e-mail the important document he left on his desk.
She will carry the nursing baby upstairs to find the document.
The 4 year old has drawn a purple family on the important document.
She will look for the white out.
Looking for the white out will take her to her desk where there is a post-it screaming – “BOOK CLUB!! DON’T FORGET TREATS!!” (Why did she let the kids eat those Samoas, anyway??!!)
She will head downstairs and gather all the children together and begin a lesson in “real life” math (aka doubling recipes). The 6 year old has finally appeared and is crying because he got no Samoas.
She will go to the pantry for the sugar and flour.
She will find the 4 year old eating sugar straight out of a #10 can and spilling most of it on the floor.
She will lay the now-sleeping baby down and fetch the broom.
She will sweep up the sugar!!! (YEAH!)
She will get the purse contents off of the floor and head back to her desk to write a check to the utility company… (DOUBLE YEAH!!) (where were those bills again??)
She will white out the purple family and scan and e-mail the document. (THREE JOBS DONE!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT??)
The baby will wake up. (Does 17 minutes even count as a nap??)
She will taste the cookie dough that the 10 year old has taken charge of. Since it is only slightly too salty, she will put the first batch in the oven.
She will look around at the flour, sugar, and chocolate chips all over the floor and decide it can stay there with the orange juice until after lunch.
She will decide to start some read-aloud.
The phone will ring (of course!)
The 4 year old will beat her to the phone (of course!)
(The 4 year old does not take messages, remember??)
She will take the phone off the hook.
The cell phone will ring. (It’s Dad’s ring)
Dad wants to know A) why the house phone is busy and B) if she ever sent that e-mail.
She will head back upstairs to try again.
The doorbell will ring. (of course)
It’s the neighbor. (She will remember she offered to watch the neighbor’s toddler for an hour)
The neighbor asks if something is burning and will look skeptical about leaving her toddler.
She will feed the first batch of cookies to the dog.
She will put in a second batch and gather all the kids around for a good book.
The baby will start screaming.
She will ask the 10-year old to turn pages while she nurses and reads.
The phone will ring. (HUH? – she thought it was off the hook)
The four year old will beat her to the phone. Again. Of course.
The 7 year old will wrestle the phone from the 4 year old.
Did she try sending that e-mail again?
(She will say a very mild swear word, but only in her head)
She will head upstairs to e-mail the document.
The neighbor’s toddler will scream. The 6 year old will run and hide.
She will feed the second batch of cookies to the dog. (She will set the timer for the third batch.)
She will head upstairs to email that stinking document.
She will hear the cookie timer and race downstairs. She will see that it is already 2 O’clock. She will feed the kids cookies, dried apples and yogurt for lunch. And she will pour them some orange juice to go with it. While she is at it, she will pour herself a glass of orange juice and go look for that muffin (wasn't this in the original, sans the beverage choice?)….maybe it is in the linen closet…..

If Laura Numeroff wrote this, it would have been a novel, not a children's book! But kudos to the mom who went through this and lived to write about it!

Now you see what can happen, even if someone does copy and paste from the internet. Most of this poem is hers, because there is no way I could do all of that and survive- especially after tripping over the contents of my purse twenty times and the kids hanging up on everyone- remember, her kids don't take messages.

Do you see why I won't pursue this anymore? By the time I go through all the people in the lane, ask for the changes, and then repost the original, I'll be a few hundred years old! So I'll read the copies and chuckle at the changes.

Now for the 'legal' part- Please don't copy anything but the original poem in this post. Yes you can copy it with my blessings- just list me as the author and post my blog link with it. You can use it for whatever you like, but if you become a millionaire because of it, share that wealth with others. It'll do a body good to see it benefit everyone who reads it. :)

God Bless!

If You Give A Mom A Muffin- STOLEN!

2011-06-07T14:20:00.001-07:00

I am very sad and angry.

Some time ago, Ruby For Women published a poem of mine, Give A Mom A Muffin. This was my ORIGINAL work, and someone names Kathie Fictorie took it, signing her name to it and sending it out to the masses.

I have tried to contact many of the people who have copied my poem (some which have deemed it Author Unknown) and asked that they please take down the poem or put my name as the author, as well as a link to this blog. It's only fair that I get credit for my own work.

Kathie Fictorie is NOT the original author, nor was the poem HER work, in any way, shape or form. I do not know this woman, and am very upset that someone would steal something that I wrote.

Imitation is NOT a form a flattery, it's plagiarism. Especially since she didn't ask me to repost If You Give A Mom A Muffin.

If you are one of those that has posted the poem in the past, I ask that you please take it down, or email me to ask permission to post it with MY name, and the link to this blog. That is all I ask. Please remove any copies of this poem with Kathie Fictorie's name. She stole this from me.

And Kathie, if you're reading this, please stop copying my work and selling it or sending it out to others with your name on it. Do your OWN work.

An Addendum: I've had many asking for the original post of this to prove myself. I've looked for the original post and unfortunately, because I was publishing it in a magazine, I had deleted the original post. It wouldn't have been right to have a copy on my blog and publishing it in a magazine. Because I did this and didn't print it out directly from the blog (confirming the date of the original post), I have no proof other than my word that it was my original work.

It's a bonehead newbie mistake on my part, but the simple fact is, I don't have a legal leg to stand on, so I can't pursue the matter legally. I'm going to let go and let God.

God has blessed me with the gift to write, so I'm going to continue using what God gave me. It's hard giving up on something like this, but I have to, since I have no proof of ownership.

I'll begin thinking of this as a blessing in disguise, because it has gone viral (1,050,000 hits on Google)- and that means there are a lot of people who loved my work- even if it's dubbed under someone else's name. It's time to focus on the positive and give up the negative. God Bless!

Why People Don't Lose Weight

2011-06-04T04:57:00.000-07:00

At times it happens- we diet and exercise, and the weight just doesn't seem to want to leave! So I thought I'd give you a few funnier reasons (that I've used myself) for not losing weight:

I didn't 'go' before weighing in. Even if you just went ten minutes ago, you could actually be carrying a gallon or more of water weight in your bladder by the time you get to the scale! A gallon weighs eight pounds, so that could be a major factor in the scale numbers.

PMS. This could be Pre, Present, or Post- it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that you're bloated, and the water is not in your bladder this time- it's all over. And you have no control in getting rid of it. Not your fault. This is responsible for anywhere from five to eighty-seven pounds.

Clothes weigh a lot. Did you know that a sweatsuit can weigh about twenty pounds? If you round it up, that is. Even a summer shorts and shirt set can weigh over eight pounds, and underwear... well, under-wires can add a lot with all that metal, and even if you don't have that type, there's something supporting you- we'll just call that stuff 'mystery material'. That adds another two pounds onto the scale.

Other gear you forgot about. Glasses and contact lenses are made of special plastics. Wire rims can add at least a pound and a half, and contact lenses are a half-pound...each. And don't forget your watch and jewelry! Even if you don't wear a watch anymore, put one on, so you have something to blame if the scale tips out of your favor. They could weigh anywhere from three to five pounds, depending on the style.

Breathing. Taking in a breath right before you weigh in makes your lungs bigger, therefore heavier. Try not to breathe before you get on. Of course if you stop breathing, blood will rush to your head due to lack of oxygen, making you more top-heavy. Gravity will pull harder to keep you on the planet, so you'll weigh more anyway. This might add another two or three pounds.

So now you know why some people just can't lose those pesky pounds- And why I'm usually hyperventilating after I get off the scale. All this stuff is totally true (at least in my mind), and I'm sticking to it- right after I have some breakfast. Doughnuts, anyone?

The Clutter is Coming! The Clutter is Coming!

2011-05-27T07:33:00.001-07:00

Where's Paul Revere when you need him?

I could see it in the distance; things that were once cleared off were starting to get piles of stuff all over it again. A thin film of dust began to gather at the corners of the room, slowly making their way like grey lava covering over my shelves and knick-knacks.

The clutter is coming!

Things start showing up all over the house in the wrong places- like the cat nail clippers in the bathroom, our new crock pot in the living room, and bath towels in the kitchen. What is going on here?

The clutter is coming!

No one can find anything. Our cats start disappearing, finding new places to hide in the boxes, bags and other stuff that was never put away. Even the carpeting is missing, covered by schoolwork and recycling papers that were never put in the bin. Keys slip between papers and disappear, dishes are no longer found in the cupboards- but wait! Here they are- in the sink!

The clutter is..... HERE!

Disaster strikes as I can no longer function in a kitchen where I can't move. My husband pulled out a drawer to fix it, but ran out of time, and placed it onto the floor. Meanwhile I spend a fortune on band-aids for stubbed toes and banged shins, because our two-butt kitchen is even smaller with this precious space taken up.

The living room and dining room are no better. Cat-hair tumbleweeds blow by and are ignored by the kids (who are supposed to be caring for our kitties), and hissed at by the cats because they think these things are other animals invading their territory. Dirty socks are strewn about like confetti, making the unseen carpet much more cushy to walk on, and giving the room an aura that would kill a goat. Especially when my son contributes to the pile. Puberty has lent him Boy Funk powers that would rival Marvel's super hero characters. Or maybe the villains?

The clutter is....everywhere!

What if the clutter is clean? Does it still count as clutter? It does of you can't get out of your own bedroom because you didn't have time to fold all the laundry! The towels alone would take a month to fold, and don't forget the Christmas wrap you never put away or the totes filled with the kids summer/winter wardrobe that you just switched out. Who wants to clean when it took you three hours just to get out of the bedroom? Forget about folding the clothes- by the time you're done, it'll be fall and you have to put them away again. It's summer- do they really need to wear anything other than a bathing suit? Nah.

I've read tons of books on decluttering. I've done decluttering. I'm still doing decluttering. But there's one thing I admit I have never done on a constant basis. Maintaining. I wait until I'm sick of looking at the mess before I do anything. It like being a bad matador- he waits until the bull is in full charge before he does something drastic, instead of keeping the beast from being ticked off in the first place. And right now, my clutter is much like a very angry bull!

But guess what? The clutter is...leaving!

Starting this weekend, I'm going to begin the decluttering process again. I won't have to start from scratch like last time, so things should go fairly quickly- maybe a few weekends. But if the family kicks in and starts to maintain with me, I might just have a neater house! Just watch though- the moment I get this place in order, we'll have to move!

When Dreams Attack

2011-05-23T06:57:00.000-07:00

I hate nightmares.

I had one last night, and it woke me from a sound sleep around three am. Oddly enough, it was about the Rapture.

I woke up, and found my husband gone. Not just gone, but Taken by God. The kids and I were on our own. We became homeless, and no one would take us in. I found myself wandering, eventually being in a shelter, earning my keep as a cook for the food ministry. The kids wound up staying with their Nana (my husband's mom), and I was alone, afraid, and felt so undeserving of anything good in life.

Then I woke up for real, looking over in a panic to see if my husband was still there. He was. Relief flooded me, but I couldn't go back to sleep. It was just too real.

But at least this dream can be explained. It has genuine fears in it, and reality can be a scary thing! Especially when God has anything to do about it.

However, there are also dreams you couldn't possibly explain to anyone without sounding as of you were a few coins short of a dollar. Like the time you dreamed you were sailing in a boat made of cheese and you were surrounded by sharks that looked like Bill Gates. Or that you were trying to run away from something, only to find you were slowly turning into a purple hippopotamus with clown feet, doing that 'slow motion' running that gets you nowhere.
Just try explaining any of these to your loved one at three in the morning, and see just how understanding they are- Or how well their aim is with a pillow in complete darkness.

Oh sure, there are books out there to help you determine your dreams, but I think it's a lot more personal than that. I truly believe only the dreamer can decipher the dream- because it's theirs. That hippo might represent something totally different to you than your best friend- if you dared to tell them, that is. At least with these dreams you know they won't happen.

All I can say is this; I'm getting my writing samples ready to send to syndicates and looking for a good bible study group. God pretty much slapped me upside the head this morning, and I intend to listen!

God Bless, and don't let Him swat you upside the head before you listen too!

God Has a Sense of Humor

2011-05-18T13:05:00.000-07:00

It happened just a few minutes ago.

I'm waiting at a red light in my car. It stopped raining, and I'm under a tree with my window 1/3 open. I lean back a little in the seat, talking to my mom who's sitting next to me on the passenger side.

So what are the odds of a large, freezing cold raindrop falling from the tree, and landing right in the crook of my very warm armpit?

About one in a gazillion. I know God meant to do that!

All my mother saw was me making a huge gasp- she thought I was having an attack of some kind! But when I told her what happened, we both started cracking up. God's funny that way.

You can't tell me that God doesn't have a sense of humor. I think He made the platypus just to mess with Darwin! Just when we think we know something, God changes the rules. Like the size of an avocado pit. Or whales (the biggest mammals) who live on krill (creatures you can hardly see). Or that baby poo doesn't have an odor for the first few days, lulling us into a sense of false security. God likes to keep us on our toes; one of His best tools is humor.

So the next time something funny happens to you and it seems like the odds are a bazillion to one that it would ever happen, look up. You'll surely feel Him grinning!

One Negative Equals Two Positives

2011-05-10T04:27:00.000-07:00

Lately, I've been quite the Negative Nelly about things. Lots of stuff has gone wrong this past month, and I've found it harder and harder to remain in a happier state of mind. I went to my pastor for advice, since he always seems like a pretty happy guy.

But he didn't answer me- instead he answered with a question- 'How can you change your negativity?' I really hate it when he does that, because I wind up coming up with a really good answer- and he winds up looking really wise and stuff. He knew I had the answer, and just needed a sounding board to figure things out.

My answer was, 'Well, I could turn one negative thought into two positive ones.' He liked that, and gave me some homework to do- for the next thirty days I'm to work on doing that, so it becomes a habit. Having homework ranks down there with cleaning the bathroom, so you can tell how excited I was. But I promised I'd give it a go.

Catching myself was the hardest part, because I never realized just how negative my thoughts were! But whenever I did catch myself, I turned it around to two positives. For instance:

'Oh no...it's raining again.'

I turned it to:

'The flowers will perk up since they needed the water' and 'I like that fresh smell you get after a good rain.'

And you know what happened? I felt better, dagnabbit!

Even the bigger concerns I addressed the same way, with the positive turns along the line of 'I don't have an answer, but God does!' It made the sun shine a little brighter after the rain stopped.

My pastor is a wise man. This is probably one of the top five Life Lessons I will ever learn!

Even if I'm in a bad mood (for no reason, just grumpy), I say to myself 'Okay Grumplestiltskin, name two good things that have happened today', and that usually gets the ball rolling in a more positive direction. So if you're feeling all grumply one day, give this a try- it might just make the sun shine brighter for you too!

God Bless!

Spring! A Time For Change

2011-05-09T04:36:00.000-07:00

I've been doing a lot lately, and was wondering about spicing up my blog with a little 'bling'.

But I'd really like your input too!

What would you like to see on Footprints? Photos, something else on the sidebar? Any suggestion is welcome!

Help me to make this blog more enjoyable for you, my dear readers!

God Bless!

Those Beautiful 'Duh!' Moments

2011-05-03T10:03:00.000-07:00

Ever do something so monumentally silly that you just have to laugh at yourself?

I've done more than I could ever tell.

Today started out well. I got the kids to school, re-potted plants to donate to the elementary school Mother's Day plant sale, and looked in the fridge for some leftovers for lunch. That is when things turned to the dark side.

I didn't find much, but there was some leftover mashed potatoes and baked ham, so I popped the potatoes in the microwave, looking forward to having that whilst munching on cold ham slices. I have simple tastes, especially when I don't feel like cooking.

About halfway into the heating cycle, I smelled something odd emanating from the depths of the microwave- and it wasn't mashed potatoes. I looked through the microwave window, saw the stuff boiling, and quickly hit the 'stop' button. Mashed potatoes don't boil- at least mine don't. You can plaster bricks together with the stuff, it's so thick.

So what on earth was it?

Then this really sweet smell hit me, and I groaned. What I thought was mashed potatoes was really a batch of homemade Irish Potato candy. And I cooked it. At least partially.

I yanked the bowl out of the microwave and stirred it up quickly, hoping to disperse the heat enough that I didn't ruin it. But since it was already boiling, I might have created a big bowl of hard candy instead, once it's cooled down enough.

Not wanting to be negative about this (as I usually am), I've promised myself for every negative thought (if I caught myself doing it), I would try to come up with at least two positives. So here goes.

Negative Nelly: I ruined the candy!

Positive Polly: I either made the batch thicker and creamier, or possibly invented the first ever batch of coconut cream hard candy- and since it's so huge, maybe Guinness World Records will be interested!

Ah...... I feel better already! Don't you?

Other 'Duh!' moments from my past are now great stories to tell at parties. And no, I'm not telling them here, because 'm putting them in my book- so if you want to read about it, you'll have to wait until I'm published. Please let the publishers know I'm going to be ready to send them the book this year! If you do, I'll make sure to sign your copy- with hearts and kissy faces.

I'm so glad I have my 'Duh!' moments- They make life so much more interesting! Some moments need a little distance before they're funny, whether that distance be in time or mileage, but they are still beautiful nonetheless. Like slobbery dog kisses or that finger-painting your kids did on the couch cushions- you cherish them in your mind and heart like rare jewels after the fact.

Even if that jewel is a big ol' honkin' slab of solid Irish Potato candy.

I wonder what it would go for on Ebay?

Things I Have Learned....About Cats

2011-05-02T08:07:00.000-07:00

I've had my kitties now for just over a year, and being a dog person, there were some surprising things I've found out about my babies with fur. Here are some of them:

Cats are quicker than the average two year-old. Ever try to catch one when he was doing something naughty? They are like lightning incarnate.

Don't ever do that noisy sniffing thing that dogs do near their ears- you get a look of utter disgust and possibly a swat.

Cats can land on as small of a space as one inch.

(Some) cats like to have their bellies rubbed!

(Some) cats like beef. How can they like beef when there are no cows their size??

Cats have different tastes. One may like plain tortilla chips, and the other might like the nacho cheese flavored.

Cats have no problem climbing right over you if you're in their way.

They can love you very much, but will still dig their sweet little claws into your arms if you try to put them down before they're ready.

Cats do not like their nails clipped- especially if you wrap them up like a mummy in a towel so you don't get shredded.

Cats are polite- they will sniff your food, then look at you in thanks before they take it from you.

(Some) cats do not like ice cream.

When you dress one cat up in girly bows and bangles, the other cat won't recognize him and act accordingly.

Cats get very embarrassed when wearing girly bows and bangles, and walk funny until you take them off.

Cats love windows, and will trip you up in the middle of the night, the moment you open your bedroom door to go to the bathroom just to get to them.

Cats will scare the crap out of you by jumping on the banister right as you pass by in the middle of the night.

The moment you decide to take the cats out of the bedroom, they run under the bed.

Cats are a lot friendlier to visitors of they dip their hands in catnip first.

This is what I've learned so far, and I still haven't listed everything- that would take too long! They still have a lot to teach me, so I'll keep you posted as events warrant. God bless, and have a great day!

Sometimes You Just Gotta Be Flexible

2011-04-27T09:16:00.000-07:00

I think it's finally happened. My semi-organized world is falling apart. 'Semi'- organized because there's always something interrupting, changing, or otherwise turning my schedule higglety-pigglety, no matter what I do.

In the beginning, my schedule was a beautiful work of art. I had it honed to the point of perfection. I was even following the thing on a regular basis, which was a miracle in itself! But that was also my biggest mistake- I was striving for perfection in an imperfect household.

You can't have anything perfect in a house with kids- it's impossible! At least if you want kids who don't need serious therapy when they're older. You also can't have a perfect schedule with a husband either- not even if you live with your soul mate (like me), because you just don't think the same way about everything.

Basically, my schedule worked when things didn't change. The moment things did change, I'd have to develop a new one. Not that I mind making new schedules (much), but having to make an entirely new one every month or two is a bit daunting after a while.

Of course it would work like a charm if I was living by myself (no one to mess things up), but then I would miss out on all that good family/spouse-type stuff that I love more than chocolate! So what am I going to do now?

The schedule I had worked great, but I recently joined a gym and didn't allow enough time for that. And there are so many other things I want (and have) to do during the course of a day, but trying to do all of it in a single day is getting me frustrated. I feel like a mouse in a maze, with no cheese at the end. I've got to stop striving for 'perfection', and going for 'getting a lot done'.

And believe me, 'Getting a lot done' is a much better feeling than 'Perfection'! Why? Because perfection is very rarely possible- especially if you're an at-home mom. You can't even count on getting things done with kids out of the house, because you know when you're almost done that perfect schedule, someone will be getting sick or ripping their pants, and you have to go pick them up or deliver a change of clothing to the school. A mother's life is rarely dull. Getting a lot done is at least an achievable goal, whereas perfection isn't!

The big question is this- how on earth do I make some kind of schedule that allows time for everything? Well, I'm still figuring that out, and when I do I'll let you know. All I can say for now is it sure won't be perfect!

I can say this; whatever I manage to schedule will be more flexible than a circus acrobat- it's going to have to be- I have a lot of interests!

So when I get into a perfection rut, I'll take a deep, relaxing breath, and think pretzely thoughts- when it comes to a mom's schedule, you just gotta be flexible!

Time Flies When You're Exhausted!

2011-04-23T05:49:00.000-07:00

Wow, what a week!

Easter break (not Spring Break- I call 'em as I see 'em school districts!) might be a break for the kids, but definitely not the parents!

Especially this particular week- you see, Good Friday is also my daughter's birthday. The big One-O. She's now officially out of the single digits. So it was a moral imperative to have a party for her. And if you've read any of my previous posts, you know my house was a disaster and not ready for any kind of frivolous activity.

Yep. I said was. Oh, parts of it still are, but the important rooms (living room, dining room, my daughter's bedroom and the nook were all cleared and cleaned. Since my husband was pulling 15 hour workdays, he couldn't help- and of course he was the one that actually likes cleaning. Can you sense the irony?

I put on my Militant Mom cap and whipped the troops (aka my children) into a cleaning frenzy. We decluttered. We vacuumed. We got rid of stuff. And best of all, both kids cleaned their rooms to the best of their ability. Which in this mom's mind, is pretty darned fantastic!

Next were the party favors. Four girls were invited, so I had to get everything I would need for activities and goodies to take home. She wanted a Monster High theme, so I also had to get the proper color frostings for her homemade cake.

I was ready. The house was clean, I had homemade pizza ready to bake, and the macaroni and cheese was cooling on the counter. (these were her menu choices for the girls for lunch.) I was going to do face painting and have the girls make their own jewelry. The doll cake was frosted in Monster High colors (hot pink, while and black) and the cake itself was going to be hot pink with black chocolate animal stripes inside. Now all we needed were the guests.

The party started at noon, and my daughter waited outside for her friends and classmates to arrive. 12:30 she was still waiting. By the time 1:00 rolled around, my poor baby almost gave up! But then a single car pulled up and her one Christian friend popped out. She was so excited! The 'party' was only supposed to be until 3:00, but I told her mom to let her stay as long as she wanted, since she was the only attendee.

They were so busy opening presents, eating, and playing with my daughter's new gifts that she didn't go home until almost 8:00! My daughter had a blast, and we had a lot of pizza and macaroni left over for dinner, so I didn't have to cook.

As tired as I was, I was also angry. Where were all these so-called school friends? She was disappointed that the other girls didn't come, but loved spending all that time with a really good friend. My daughter had taken her lemons and made lemonade.

So for her birthday, my daughter gave me gifts. The gift of perspective. The gift of forgiveness. The gift of loving acceptance. She wasn't mad or bitter about the others not coming, and when school starts on Monday, she will be playing with them again just as she did before the party.

And I hope that all the adults out there (including myself) will follow her example.

Happy Birthday Sweetheart. Now Mommy is going to eat some cake and take a nap.

Doing Something Different

2011-04-14T04:07:00.000-07:00

Ever get into a rut? You find yourself doing the same things day after day, with no vigor, no energy, no fun? It might just be your mindset, and not the tasks before you!

Dare to do something different today- even if it's something silly like putting on your socks before you get dressed, or skipping around the house when no one's looking! Large or small, just do at least one thing out of the daily routine.

Get into the mindset of doing small things in a way that would make you (and those around you) smile, or even laugh! Put on some music that you haven't listened to since you were a teenager, and do what you have to do- including housework- but this time put some energy into it! Wear something funky and fun, put on two different color socks, anything that will put you into a more positive mindset!

If you're not into the music or clothing thing, have lunch with a friend you haven't seen in a while- one that makes you laugh. Do something out of the house you don't normally do, like take a neighborhood walk, visit a park or window shop- just so long as the activity makes you happy! Part of being in a rut is the mental attitude- and once the attitude changes, the rut tends to disappear!

But what if it doesn't?

Then you need to give a great deal of thought as to why the rut remains. Maybe God is telling you that changes need to be made in your lifestyle or work, parenting or marriage. Maybe you haven't been putting enough effort into making things interesting! Interesting in a good way.

Start with the small things- Change your work space (and home space) to include things that have a positive bent to them. Your favorite bible verse printed out and put on the wall (or fridge), a new plant in the window, Inspirational quotes framed and hung on the wall (Mine is: Inspiration doesn't come to you; You need to go after it with a bat!), or a nice picture of something you like. Put these things in a space where you are the most, so you see it every day as much as possible.

As for relationships and work (aka the big stuff), the only changes you can control are in yourself. A positive attitude is a big part of it, but you have to also put a real effort into relationships and your job, not just coast along (which is probably how the rut started in the first place!) Change what you can (including finding another job if need be, or counseling if in a marriage and kids), and accept things you simply cannot change. Pray, talk to friends and family, and find ways of making life a bit happier, if not easier. Find the gold in those Horse-Poo Days!

Who Have YOU Been With??

2011-04-11T07:27:00.000-07:00

Cats are funny creatures.

For the first time in eons, I went for a bike ride. Not just any bike ride, but one that took me to my gym. I worked out on the machines, then on my way home, I met a very friendly dog who loved being pet and played with. I got home and put the bike away, then entered the house.

I was met by The Inspection Team.

My two cats came up to me, not in their usual way (Boo-Boo actually bounds up to greet me, while Scootch could care less), but both approached me with a caution akin to parents catching their kid doing something naughty.

Then they started sniffing me.

Neither one wanted to be pet- in fact, when I leaned over to do so, their back did that rubbery thing where they twist just far enough away to keep you from touching their fur. Forget it Lady, they seemed to say, squinting their eyes as they hit the spot where the dog rubbed against me, We know you were with Someone Else.

They regarded me with those big yellow-green eyes. Prepare to be ignored.

Then they walked off, without even a meow. That was when I realized I'm no longer in charge. Perhaps I never was. It was nice while it lasted though.

Oh they'll love me again eventually. After all, dinnertime is only a few hours away, and they haven't had their daily treat yet. Then I'll be back in charge once more- at least until the food is gone.

In the meantime I plan on finding all kinds of things that have scent to just see what they do when I get home next time. Maybe I'll touch some flowers, pet a few more animals, or maybe bring home a small rock (they love those for some reason!)- Anything to get them to sniff me again- it tickles!

Keeping In Perpective

2011-04-08T08:10:00.000-07:00

I posted this in my other blog I'm Fighting Fat!, And I liked it so much, I posted it here as well!

First off, let me say this- I LOST FIVE POUNDS!!!!

I stuck with my gym schedule (Monday, Wednesday and Friday, Tuesday and Thursday are optional) as well as eating more veggies with my meals, and the scale decided to show me something great this week! I am now a slender 315 pounds...YAY!

Yesterday, I was talking my nine year-old daughter, who thought two tears was an awful long time to be losing weight. I asked her what she thought would be reasonable, since she has been teased about her weight in school. She is not fat, by the way- she's just beginning to 'blossom' and her body is readying itself for some major changes which have already begun.

But that's another post for another time. :)

She felt a few months would be reasonable enough to lose over 150 pounds. So I broke it down for her. "How much in a week would be reasonable then?' I asked. She replied 'About ten pounds a week.'

Ten pounds a week is reasonable? I proceeded to set her straight before I had an anorexic/bulimic on my hands!

I explained that was more than a pound a day, which was way too much to expect anyone to lose, fat or thin. One to two pounds a week is reasonable, and after letting her do the math, she realized that it was a lot more reasonable to lose it in two to three years. Thank goodness!

She had an excuse to think that way though- sometimes I watch The Biggest Loser, where people are losing a lot of weight in a short amount of time. But that is to the extreme, and she is only nine years old. But that got me to thinking- how many times have we as overweight people done the same thing? (just not as extreme!)

Here are some other things I have heard people say (and some I have done myself!):

If I eat just salad, I'll lose so much weight!

Oh really? And just how long will that last? A few days? I know that if it was me saying that, I would start telling myself that tuna salad counted, them shrimp salad, egg salad...then I'd find a way to make a steak and french fry salad!

Nothing wrong with salad, but it needs to be balanced for your body, not just for the people on TV. My salads come with some kind of protein in it, whether that be pine nuts, boiled eggs, or roasted chicken sprinkled on top. I need that protein to keep me from being too hungry! Some don't, so you need to try different things to see what works for you.

If I go to the gym every week long and exercise three hours a day, I'll lose weight really fast! (after all, Biggest Loser people were doing six hours a day, so three isn't as extreme...right?)

Diving into a gym routine is the best way to end up burning out and wasting that gym membership money! Even I thought I could go every day, and found I was pretty sore from working out for only an hour! I would suggest starting slow, and go three times a week to start- but commit to that three days! Do the other two days if you feel good enough to do so, but promise yourself those three days, no matter what. That way you aren't setting yourself up for disappointment (because you didn't go each day), and you aren't hurting yourself by overworking your muscles.
Start with lighter weights on the machines too; doing ten reps (repetitions) with less weight is much better than doing three reps with too much weight!

I'll skip all the good stuff I like to eat, like junk food and dessert. I'll eat rice cakes and water, and have one meal a day.

The 'good stuff' usually isn't good, and we all know it. Chips happen to be my downfall, but have refused to deny myself chips if I'm really craving them. Feeling deprived isn't the answer to losing weight- moderation is. So instead of having a bag of chips (like a did in the past) I have a handful. I put it in a bowl and close the bag. That way I'm not tempted to take more, and my tongue is a happy camper. I've found that if I eat out of the bag, I eat a lot more chips that I thought I did- and the bag sometimes gets finished off before I realize it!
However, if I find myself finishing off the bag again and again, I'll either re-bag the chips in sandwich bags, or buy the snack bags instead.
And if it's ice cream, instead of a bowl I'll buy small cones- you can only put so much on a small ice cream cone!

What I'm trying to say can be summed up into one word. Moderation. Moderation in eating so we aren't stuffing or starving ourselves. Moderation in exercise so we don't flop on the couch or tear every muscle during a workout. Just remember that doing the same diet/exercise program as someone else might not be the best thing for you! Do what you can do, go a little farther than you think you can. There's nothing wrong with challenging yourself concerning diet and exercise- but doing anything without the proper perspective can hurt you- mentally and physically.

Ask me how I know.

Finding the Funny

2011-04-04T04:23:00.000-07:00

Is clean humor a dying art?

I love reading. I love books. And this weekend I went to window shop at a notable bookstore and perused my favorite sections- Sci-fi, crafts, and humor. I found a lot of good choices in the latter two, but was shocked when I went into the dwindling aisle that was the humor section.

Almost every title had a prominent curse word in it. I'd say 80% of the books in that section were not family friendly, and yet there were family friendly books mixed in with them, like Fox Trot and Baby Blues.

Even after seeing a title that looked funny (based on the What to Expect When You're Expecting series- but from the stork and baby's point of view), the first sentence bore a word that begins with the sixth letter of the alphabet- I shut the book without reading further- it's not something I would ever give to a new mother.

I was appalled by the crassness of it all. And those books that weren't full of curses were just plain stupid. The humor was either based on rudeness, or sight gags that made me wince. And I know there's some clean humor out there, but not on these shelves. Many of the clean humor titles were in the religious section, because the writer's were Christians. But who would think to look in that section for humor? Not me- I had to ask the customer service desk to help find it!

Then it hit me. There was really nothing prominently displayed for the adult reader who was looking for clean humor. No Erma Bombeck. No Bill Cosby. It's like truly funny stuff was wiped clean off the planet, and all we had left was schmutz; much like someone ate the yummy banana and left us with the icky black peel.

I think I know why God put me on this planet. To write humor books. And who am I to deny God? So guess what I'm going to do- I'm going to be an author. There, I said it.

Wow, that was pretty scary to write!

I've already thought up several book titles, even as I write this. Brainstorming (at least for me) is easy. Writing books is hard. Fun, but hard. But I really feel that I've finally found my niche in the big Circle of Life. Now I just have to stop shaking in my sneakers and do it.

I want to help people find the funny in things. In all situations. In the everyday problems that can bring us down. I want to make parents laugh in such a way that they can share the humor with their kids. I want to make the world smile.

And at the bookstore, I want people to see my book among the schmutz and exclaim "Finally! Some good, clean humor!"

The Value of Time

2011-04-01T07:52:00.000-07:00

What is it with these professionals that think it's okay to show up late to an appointment?

I go to the doctor's office on time, only to find out the doctor isn't even there yet- or I have to wait for him to finish with another patient, and go in at least thirty minutes later than my appointed time.
The cable guy comes late, while I sit and stew, wondering when I can get my errands done. The plumber shows up two hours late and greets me with a smile.

What he thinks is a returned smile is me grinding my teeth in frustration!

But I don't yell, because I need him to fix the leak in my basement. A sink full of dishes and six loads of laundry are great motivators to just shut my yap and let him do his job- now that he finally showed up!

I am an at-home mother, wife, and homemaker. So why is my time not valued as much as those with a degree?

For instance- I was at a doctor's appointment for one o'clock. I showed up early (because I hate being late), and brought a book to read until he was ready for me. One o'clock passes, and when I look at the clock again, it's now it's one-thirty. I ask the receptionist when was he going to take me in (since I was the first patient), and was told that the doctor hadn't even arrived yet!

I had several thoughts about this. One,there were too many witnesses if I tried to kill him when he did show up. Two, if I'd throttled him, we were in a hospital, and they could easily revive him after I'd made my point. Three, if I had killed the man, I would never get my little five minute exam done.

Then I'd have to make another appointment.

This was just a little 'How are things going?' checkup, that would have taken only a few minutes. I was told to wait, and they finally decided to stick me in a room with a robe that wouldn't cover a gnat. I think they did it to keep me from starting a riot, because I was causing dissension among the ranks of the other patients. It was almost two o'clock before the doctor came strolling into my room.

And I let him have it.

I did get an apology, but was also told that doctors working in the clinic (where I was) had other duties before they come here, and that I should not get upset if they're late. It didn't matter that I would now be late to pick up my daughter from school- I was told to make other plans for her pick-up the next time.

Oh Really? Over an hour waiting time for an exam that took less than five minutes to perform- and I'm the one who needs to schedule my time better?

It looks like there's a professional that isn't so professional, isn't there? Buck-up Buster- you need to schedule your time more efficiently and stop wasting the time of others!

I wonder how they would've liked it if their professor in med school decided to show up whenever he wanted? It might have taken them another year to get that degree! But that's okay- you're just a student....right?

Then my plumber says he's got 'something to do' before he comes to take care of my cracked pipe. He was supposed to be here at eight-thirty, and doesn't show up until two hours later. In the meantime, I can't do what errands I need to do for my family, because I have to be home waiting for him.

Somebody really needs to smack these people upside the head.

When we actually do find a professional that's on time, we're pleasantly surprised. Why is that? Because we're of a mindset that says it's okay for them to be late. But if we're late, they charge us! I wonder how my doctor would feel if I'd billed him for my wasted time. That would definitely be a 'YouTube' moment!

I'm not accepting excuses anymore. However I'm not going to be unreasonable either- I can see being a few minutes late, but late over an hour past the appointed time? No way, Mister. And from now on I will tell them so.

Right after their work with me is done. :)

So how valuable is our time as wives, mothers and homemakers? Priceless. But we need to speak up if we want the world to know that- especially concerning 'Professionals'- who aren't!

Modern Family Structure- Building on Sand

2011-03-30T07:09:00.000-07:00

I'm not one for serious subjects, but I think this one should be addressed. So get ready for the wisdom I'm going to lay on you- it's going to blow your mind.

Here in America, we have many things, but a good family structure isn't one of them. Oh sure, we used to be the epitome of wonderfulness, but that was in the fifties; nowadays family structure is so messed up, I would compare it to rickety, rusted scaffolding. There might be a few metal bars in there that are strong, but not enough that the entire thing won't collapse the moment you set foot onto it.

Let me explain.

It's like trying to build a house on sand- if you don't have to have a strong foundation, the house will fall apart. People get married too fast. Many people have kids before the marriage (it used to be afterward), then couples find out that their six-month romance was a fleeting thing, and marriage 'just doesn't work' for them. So they get divorced and look for another whirlwind relationship. Those couples that do work out the rough spots (or are even *gasp* happy in marriage) fall for the idea that they must provide everything for their children, so both parents keep working. 'Things' have replaced 'Time' as the best way to handle children, letting them have the latest gadget or watching TV until their eyes burn out instead of taking them to a park, reading to them, or playing a game.

A parent can spend over half their paycheck on daycare and babysitting. Then when the child grows up a spoiled, unruly teenager, parents wonder what happened to the sweet child they gave birth to, not even realizing it wasn't they who really raised their kids- it was the sitters! So now we have a bunch of adolescents with bad attitudes applying for jobs- that is, if they feel like working.

Sound familiar?

Unemployment is also a big issue, which ties into the family structure as well. Think about this- say you have 50,000 married people living in an area. If just one parent stayed home to care for the kids, that would be another 25,000 jobs available for other families that can't find work. Yes, you'd have to tighten the budgeting belt, but it would be worth the sacrifice to see your children growing up before you, and knowing you were a major part of it.

Imagine that- Neighbors chatting with neighbors as their kids play with each other, getting to know people face-to-face instead of having a phone attached to our ear or hands. Not having to deal with a cubicle and a boss staring over our shoulders. If most families did this, I really believe this is what would happen. More jobs filled, less family stress, and we might actually talk with each other over coffee instead of the cell phone!

Yes, I do understand that some families really need both parents working, but I'm talking about the people who are doing it just to have the extra cash and luxuries. Sometimes it's a good thing to make your children wait for things. This world puts way too much emphasis on instant gratification.

Parents are supposed to be the ones who teach their children morals, home skills, and work ethics. Yes, I said work ethics. You do work as a homemaker- the big payoff just doesn't come until the kids have grown up. And in an 'instant gratification' society, not many want the job. But who could possibly do a better job than you at raising your kids?

Women need to step up and be good, loving, and responsible wives and mothers. Men need to step up and take care of their wives and children, and lead their children with moral guidance and discipline. Both parents must work as a team to give their kids a loving, stable environment, as well as being loving to each other.

As for the younger people still dating- You simply cannot rush into a relationship and expect a perfect marriage. Good relationships take time- and restraint.

The modern family structure is broken, and will take a lot of work to fix. The question I ask is this- how many are really ready to do the work to make things better?

Horse Poo Days

2011-03-27T12:56:00.000-07:00

Ever have one of those days? Days that could be disastrous or wonderful, depending on your viewpoint? I like to call them horse-poo days. And we had one on Friday.

Our basement gets flooded often when we do laundry because the pipes are old and thin. My husband informs the landlord that he 'blew out' the pipes (aka removing the clog with a snake-like thingie that shoots high-pressure water into it), and all is usually well for a few weeks. Then it clogs and we have to blow it out again.

Except this time the water didn't go away right away. It decided it wanted to come up from the concrete under the dryer. Not good. And no, my husband didn't do it! Those pipes must be fossils by now- I think they were there since they built the place, when dinosaurs roamed the earth.

Apparently we have really old fossils...er...I mean pipes, and one cracked. Under the concrete. That's something my husband couldn't blow out if he used a sneezing elephant. And the landlord said that the plumber can't come until Monday. Sigh.

The best part (please note the sarcasm) is I had a ton of dirty dishes in the dishwasher and the sink, as well as a ton of laundry. This cracked pipe meant no water usage in the back half of the house- which meant no kitchen water, and no basement water. I can't do any dishes or laundry!

But the bathroom water pipes are fine, so we can at least do the important stuff, like keep clean and...you know. That's much more important than dishes.

The really best part (please note the lack of sarcasm) was God turned this into a positive experience. I got to improvise. I took our huge cooler and dragged it outside while my husband hooked up the hose to the hot water, allowing me to fill the cooler and soak the dishes while I set up a table and laid out towels. I got a bucket for rinsing, and had the kids fill the cooler with every dirty dish in the house. Then I washed, and they dried and put them away. We were a well-oiled machine.

People kept passing by asking us when we were having the yard sale. It's nice to know that our dishes looked good enough that other people wanted them!

And while I could have groused about it (and believe me, I was close to it at one point), I hear my daughter say, "Hey Mom, this is kinda fun!" And when I really thought about it, she was right. It was kind of fun to be together doing something unusual- even if it was dishes! It was what I call a horse-poo moment- you can think of it as a mess, or use it as fertilizer, depending on your point of view. I prefer the latter!

God blessed me with a daughter who thinks like that sometimes. She helps me see the fun side of things, which is a fantastic blessing, because as we all parents know, sometimes we forget things can be fun- even the stuff that drives us crazy.

But I still refuse to do the laundry out of my cooler!

Laundry will either be done via the laundromat or by the borrowing of a neighbors machine, so that's covered. And this week will be fraught with meals that use as little dishes as possible, yet still be home-cooked. Maybe we don't even need to use the oven- I can ask the neighbors if I can use their grill, and offer to make them some grilled goodies too, turning it into a nice get-together!

That sounds awesome, doesn't it? I think I need to buy some paper plates!

So take those horse-poo moments and turn them into fertilizer- it makes a much prettier flower patch in God's garden!

I'm a Breadaholic!!

2011-03-18T06:09:00.000-07:00

My name is Beth, and I'm a Breadaholic.

I don't know when it started, but it's become a really big problem in my house. Almost to the point where we need to call the producers of Hoarders.

You see, we as a family buy almost everything in bulk. We have an upright freezer for the meats and other items (like bread), and we save a lot of money when we buy a lot a freeze it. I home cook, and it's nice to have that mini frozen food market in the basement when I get a hankering for something to make for dinner.

I stopped making dinners on a whim though- there's just too much of the same ol' meals going on, and I really need to crack open some cookbooks (which I also hoard) before my husband threatens (again) to clean house and send them to the recycling bin.

So I look in the freezer (as well as the one that's upstairs attached to my fridge), and saw a Shangri-la of baked goodness. Yes there was some meat, cheese and veggies in there, but there also was a lot of bread. Jesus could have fed at least another five-thousand without having to use any of His powers, had He seen what I had.

I had rolls. I had loaves, home baked and store bought. I had white, wheat, and rye. If bread was money, I would have been a millionaire. But there is only so much you can do with it all.

Of course I could have thrown it all out, but I hate wasting stuff. Anything frostbitten and stale went to feed the wildlife in the backyard, but the rest simply had to be used, or at least given away. And trust me, it's hard to give away bread that's already been frozen!

Mealtimes became flooded with sandwiches, dipping bread with soup, and meals with stuffing on the side. Burgers and hot dogs were also eaten, because I had a lot of rolls put aside just in case we had a massive cookout. We even made poor-man's panini's (think grilled cheese but with meat and veggies too- in a fry pan, not a press), so not only am I a breadaholic, I'm a bread hoarder too. I just can't throw that stuff out!

Even after all of those meals I still have a good amount of bread left- though I admit it's nice to actually find my meats and stuff now! So I've decided to stop the bread madness, and not buy or bake anymore.

At least for a month.

And then I looked in my fridge- I forgot I had a batch of pizza dough in there...but that shouldn't really count, right? It's not really bread unless it's fluffy. So I won't think those tortillas in the freezer would count either.

I think giving up bread is going to be harder than I thought!

Wait a second, you say as you read all of this...why would you have to give up bread completely? Good question, dear readers, I'm glad you asked!

I found out that anything with wheat flour makes me really tired and sluggish.

I went to the docs and got checked out, and though I don't have Celiac disease (or anything else other than hypothyroidism), I have noticed by trial and error that the stuff drains the energy out of me more than an SUV drinks gasoline. So I have to stop eating it, or find a different kind of flour to bake with.

So I either cut it all out, or eat so little of it that it feels like I cut it all out. That also includes pasta.

Lucky for me I'm creative (and immensely humble), so I know I'll figure something out soon. There are flours out there made of rice or nuts, and I'm sure once I finagle with some of them I could come up with some awesome recipes.

So maybe I can have my bread and eat it too. I hope.

In the meantime I'll make due with ditching the rest of the bread by making meals I know my family will love (because they can eat it), and making myself a big pot of something I can freeze into one-serving containers, so I can have something different without all the effort of making another meal entirely. It might take a while to get this all implemented, but once it's done, I should be able to keep myself from eating too much bread (and pasta), if at all.

I'm Beth, and I'm a Breadaholic. But with God and my family helping me, I'll give up bread, and not be so tired!

I'm A Jack O'Lantern (Part Two of 'The Whole Tooth' post)

2011-03-04T08:24:00.000-08:00

The dentist didn't take long to remove the two teeth that had to come out. I went home feeling as of I was part zombie, looking like a jack O'lantern with half my face sliding off my skull. One of the teeth she had to take was an eye tooth, and when deadening that particular spot, she informed me I would not feel half my nose.

Of course when she was finished, I was poking my face all over, just to see what felt weird. I'm like that. Let me just say it's like feeling someone else's face when you're doing it. Even when it's only half your nose. It's been over an hour since my visit, and I'm still numb. So I thought I'd share the experience with you. Don't you feel privileged?

Some of the Novocaine (or 'happy juice' as I like to call it) has worn off, and the edges of my lips are tingling, like they had fallen asleep. My tongue now has new places to explore and toy with, and I'm sure once all of this is healed I can shoot peas at people out of the side of my mouth and no one would be the wiser. Dentistry can be fun, you just have to be creative enough to take advantage if it!

For instance, I can still smile (sort of), but I look like I should be a Halloween decoration- or at least model for them. Maybe I should hire myself out to pumpkin artisans who need inspiration, or visit Warner Brothers and become the new voice for Sylvester. Okay, maybe Sylvester's sister- that would be a little more realistic. Of course, with all these new air holes in my face, I could do a really cool horse impression- but I need the happy juice to wear off first for the full effect.

All I need now is a little light in my mouth, and I'll be set for Haloween!

Another thing I'll note here- I told the dentist I had long roots, but even I was surprised at just how long they were after she removed the eye tooth! I was surprised my nose didn't collapse. Really. It was that long. Like a dagger.

And since I have a little morbidity in my sense of humor, I also took a picture of the offending buggers. They ain't pretty. The entire length of the eye tooth was about two inches long- and the other one was just a little shorter! (But I won't show you that one unless you ask me. I promise!)

The kids are going to love that shot. Can you say 'Mandatory Dental Care' boys and girls? I knew you could!

I was given the same 'drill' as last time (forgive the dental pun); Not to eat for a few hours, soft diet, no straws, no brushing for a day, and relax as much as possible. And now that the happy juice is almost completely worn off of my removed 'fang', I can see why. No one likes to feel their heartbeat in their face. It's just unnatural.

And after a month or two of having fun with a holey face (check that...a Christian with a 'holey' face..heh), I get fitted for a new set of choppers. Apples and carrots and cel'ry, oh my! Meal times are going to be a new but fun set of challenges!

P.S. My nose is still half numb, and I feel a sneeze coming on- part of me is worried if my face will fall off if that happens...or I might just beat myself to death with my lips, since I have absolutely no facial muscle control! This might make a good YouTube video....

Riding the Dirty Clothes Horse- or Dealing With Too Much Laundry!

2011-03-04T04:07:00.000-08:00

It happens about once a month. The dirty laundry that was supposedly under control has now taken over the entire hallway- and no one has any clean clothes. I have no idea why this family tradition started, but it seems like everyone (meaning the kids) waits until they're practically naked before putting their dirty stuff in the laundry. Then I have to mount 'Stinky Shorts' the clothes horse and tame the beast.

Eventually I had to teach my son the art of taming the clothes horse, and we do well most times. But since I have the memory of a gnat, and he has a gift for disappearing when it's time for chores, sometimes the clothing goes unchecked until I hear the faint call of my daughter through the pant leg of a clothing avalanche. For a child who claims she has no clothing, she has a lot of stuff blocking the entrance to her bedroom. Maybe it's the house gnomes up to their tricks again.

It's almost like assembly line work; I empty the baskets, refill them, my son takes them to the Pit of Despair (otherwise known as the basement) to be washed and dried, then either child brings up the clean stuff to be dumped back on my bed for folding. It's a well-oiled machine when it works. When it works. Most times some of the moving parts (the kids or myself on occasion) just shut down and step over the masses accumulating in the hallway, and make our way to the kitchen for some eye-opening sustenance before starting our day.

We can acquire about one to two loads a day, so if at least one load a day is skipped, we're behind. But on days where the horse is threatening to engulf the hallway, we have to tend to it at least three times a day. And folding all that stuff is just soooo much fun. Especially when I see my kids neatly folded clothing shoved into their dressers pell-mell without any consideration as to where each item belongs. Many times i hear complaints about not having any clean school shirts, only to see that they shoved them into the underwear drawer.

It's nice to feel needed. Sort of.

I stopped having a hamper in the hallway. All it did was accumulate stuff, and then we had the joy of sorting through all the odoriferous garments. No one wanted that job, so I decided to use baskets instead. One for the whites/light colored clothing, one for the dark colors. When either gets full, down it goes. This kept the reins on the horse quite well- at least until the next avalanche happened.

'Stinky Shorts' is now going down the fairway, getting smaller as he reaches the finish line!

I love looking at the baskets in the hall and not seeing either of them full. I can also smile because I know the kids have been bringing down all of their dirty clothes this week too. It's nice to get off of the dirty clothes horse and walk in the hallway for once!

The Tooth, and Everything Else With It!

2011-02-23T05:03:00.000-08:00

I still say that I'm healthy. However, my teeth are not. Why? Because I have avoided going to the dentist. And I have two sort-of-good reasons why I haven't. One, because I couldn't afford it, and two, so the dentist wouldn't yell at me whenever I did decide to show up.

I checked my calendar and it appears as if I didn't go for the past decade. So shoot me. With a lot of Novocaine, please.

I won't get into why I stopped going- it's a long story. But now I'm going to a different dentist, and that's all that matters. The problem is, because I waited so long, I have severe periodontal disease. Yay.

I should've known better than to skip the dentist in the first place, because gum disease runs rampant in my family. And now I have loose teeth to go along with the bad gums, much like Bonnie and Clyde. The plaque built up so badly I'd started losing bone. In fact, I'd lost enough bone that I could never get crowns- there just isn't enough bone there to attach them to. I knew I had lost some bone, but i didn't think it was that bad.

To be honest, I was about to give up hope of ever finding a dentist that would work with what I could afford, then God sent me a really good one. And yes, she did reprimand me, but she didn't yell. People with sharp tools don't really need to yell.

After some x-rays and a bit of my history, I found that there are some things that simply must be done if I want to keep most of my teeth. I need at least three teeth extracted, some major scaling, and a set of upper and lower partial dentures.

Yes, dentures. At the young age of forty-three. Either that, or I dedicate my life to eating pudding and soup. Actually, that sounds like a really cool recipe book- The Pudding and Soup Cookbook. But no, I'd really rather have some teeth to chew with, thank you very much. And not sounding like Sylvester the Cat would be nice too. (or is that nyth? Thorry for thpittin'.)

Stage One is complete as of Tuesday. They scaled the left side of my mouth, and removed one molar. She did a fantastic job too- I didn't feel a thing! She was even gentle with the needle, much to my surprise. Needles scare me to death. Seriously- I'd make a really lousy drug addict if I had to use needles. She must have poked me in ten different places just to make sure I was totally numb- and all I felt was a slight pinch each time. In fact, I'm actually looking forward to going back! She really helped me with my Needlephobia. I still think I'd make a lousy drug addict though, because I still had to close my eyes when she did it. I'm such a weenieburger.

Stage Two is the same thing on the right side- scaling, and this time two teeth need to come out. By the time I'm done with this procedure, I'll look like a jack o'lantern carved by candy-hyper kids during an earthquake. Wait until you see my head shot then. Well, maybe not. I don't want to scare you off.

That will happen in six weeks, because I want to get it all done at the same time. At least I did one thing smart this time around. Sheesh.

After all that heals, then I get fitted for new choppers. Partial ones, so they'll probably look like those fake teeth they sell at the costume shop, only straighter and a lot more expensive. I might just get a pair of those cheap fake teeth and stroll into her office one day announcing "I been a'comin' to her for years!" then sit down all sprawled out and comfy-like, just to see how people react.

But then I remember the dentist has sharp tools and a drill, so maybe I'll hold off until I get my new teeth first. Maybe. Heh.

All in all, it was a lot better experience than I expected. And even though I have to go back every three months for a cleaning after all this is over (which is common with gum-diseased people like myself), I won't mind a bit. At least I'll be able to eat crunchy apples and raw carrots again- That alone is worth it!

The one thing I regret is that they wouldn't let me keep the tooth they pulled- it would have been a great prop for one of my 'Mommy Lessons on Dental Care' lectures when I want to scare the kids into brushing properly. But apparently they no longer allow that. Probably for the prevention of child torture, or germ warfare....we'll never know. They had taken the tooth to this 'clean room' when there was someone dressed like a surgeon picking up my tooth as if it was radioactive waste. Maybe it was, and I was just unaware of the effect while it resided in my head. Remember that, folks. Dentistry is dangerous!

So here I am with my partially toothless self, avoiding all those yummy crunchy foods until the hole in my mouth heals a bit more. And of course now is when I want all that crunchy stuff- and I don't just mean apples either. Chips are my downfall, and I want them really bad! Just to feel and hear that crunch when I bite down...ahh, that's the stuff. But I have to wait a few more days, just to make sure I don't wound myself. Doritos can pack a mean punch if you crunch 'em wrong!

I'll keep you posted on my progress. God bless you and yours, and may your teeth and gums stay healthy!

The Trouble With Being Multi-Talented

2011-02-16T06:44:00.000-08:00

God has bestowed me with many gifts. Don't take that as a brag, because it truly isn't. People have told me many times (without my asking, mind you), that I'm so talented at (fill in the blank with whatever I just did), that I should:

1) start my own business,
2) go to a publisher, or
3) Get on stage/TV show.

Though I have a myriad of talents, I feel I'm not even close to being expert enough to do any of these things.

I am the poster child for Jacqueline of All Trades, Mistress of None.

In fact, I sometimes wish I had less talent, just so I could focus more on what's left! It's like tossing a dog 5 different balls at the same time- he's so busy trying to get all of them, he doesn't get any of them. That's me. It would be a lot easier to have one talent and at least know where God wants me to be. In my case, the Lord and I are going to have a long talk- I'm going to ask for a definite answer as to what He wants me to do, because I can't seem to catch any of those balls I've been tossed.

Well, okay- that's not entirely true. I did ask God what he wants me to focus on a while back (I asked God to show me a cardinal if He wanted me to write, and He did- two days later!), so I know writing is supposed to be my main focus, but good grief- do you know how much stuff I have to write about? I have about ten children's books partially written, at least two fantasy novels (one is written, one is a series of notes), two cookbooks, many short stories, a woman's lit book (much like Erma Bombeck's stuff, but more blunt), quilting books, crafting books, and Lord knows what else that's up in my file folders. And I have notes everywhere for more book ideas.

So now I need to narrow that down. A lot. I'm a dog with twenty tennis balls being tossed at him...uh...her. And right now I'm working on all of them, a bit at a time. You'd think being a writer would be easy!

Things I don't have time to do, I could write about at least- but writing takes longer. Much longer. I'm better off just doing the crafts and selling them at shows than to write a book about how to make them! My kids will be grown (and have already grown out of some) by the time I'm finished writing all those children's stories. They might even be in college by then.

You'd think children's books would be easier because they're shorter, but the opposite is true. Basically, you have to introduce a character, have a problem, then solve it, all within about 200 words. And no big words, please- that's a no-no. I'm good at poetry, so I thought I could do a Dr. Suess type rhyming book, but he was a super genius when it came to topics (like the Lorax- saving the environment- the star-bellied Sneeches, about racism), so that would be a challenge. A pretty cool challenge though- One I could definitely have fun with!

Let's just say there's more to write about than I will ever have time for- and that's if I have no more ideas in the meantime. We all know my brain never shuts off (even at night), so I'll need to live to be about 400 or so. That's another thing I'll be putting on the 'Requests to God' list.

Can you see why I'm having so much trouble? So please don't envy those that have more than one talent when you 'only have one'- at least you know where to focus all your creative energy!

Think of it this way...It's a lot easier to juggle one ball than twenty! Right?

Now I need to take my list to God and have that talk before school let's out. God bless, and have a great day!

Exploring the Levels of Illness

2011-02-09T04:52:00.000-08:00

I have the flu. I'm miserable. But my mind (when not in a fevered state) still functions quite well, and when you're body decides to park itself on the couch with a bazillion blankets, there's not much more one can do than think about things.

I began thinking about what it takes to keep a person like me down. In fact, what would keep any mother and wife down- and out. There had to be some point when things were just too much- even for us moms.

I came up with 'The Levels of Illness' stages.

Level 1- otherwise known as the 'Not Feeling Right' stage. You're not officially sick, but something just isn't right. You can't even pinpoint just what it is that feels odd. This is usually the precursor to actually getting sick.

Level 2 - the 'Ugh', or 'Functionally Ill' stage. You're sick, but mildly so. You can still function on a fairly normal scope; only you do things a little slower than usual.

Level 3 - the 'Sick But Still Moving' stage. This basically means that you can minimally care for others as well as yourself. That means the kids get toast for breakfast, and you get some hot tea with lemon. Dinner is ordered out if there are no leftovers to eat, and the only chores that are done are the immediate ones, like laundry and dishes.

Level 4 - the 'Too Sick To Move' stage. You probably can move, but only to the bathroom and back. Blinking hurts, and even using the remote causes major fatigue. This is usually when the family notices that you're not feeling good, but they still ask you to help them with things anyway. You do help with some of their needs- as long as you don't have to get off of the couch. But whether you helped them get the right answer for their homework or helped them spell something properly is yet to be seen. And frankly, at this point you just don't care.

Level 5 - "Near Death' stage. You can't get out of bed, and even the pets begin to wonder where you've been all day. The phones are shut off and buried under the mattress so you can't hear them, but they are within reach if you need to call the morgue. Motor skills are practically non- existent, and it takes all your strength to turn off nightstand light. You're torn between needing the family around to help feed you and get you to the bathroom, and having an empty house where no one can bother you. You consider writing a will, but no longer have the energy to hold a pencil. The only thing getting you through this stage is that you know no one will do any laundry, dishes or cooking, so if you do die, your family will be naked and starving. And you can't live...er...die with yourself if that happened.

The other day I went to bed at Level 4. Yesterday, I was Level 3. Now I'm Level 2, and managed to do some laundry this morning. My mother (now retired!) brought over some orange juice yesterday, so I'll be sipping on that, as well as planning some kind of soup or stew involving chicken for dinner. My brain wants my body to hurry up, and my body is telling my brain to blow it out it's cerebellum. That's why I'm typing this post- just to trick my brain into thinking I'm doing something useful. Maybe I am, in my own literary way.

I still have to get the kids to school, and consider eating something healthy, but I can't even think of food at the moment. Yesterday I was up before the crack of dawn, crashed just after dawn, and didn't eat until almost noon; and it looks like that might be the issue today as well. But watch this- I bet I gain weight. I never seem to lose weight when I'm sick!

God Bless, and may you and yours stay happy and healthy!

The Joy of Picture Taking

2011-01-30T06:08:00.000-08:00

I was given a new camera for Christmas, and couldn't wait to take it for a spin. I'm the main photographer in my family, and though I don 't take bazillions of them (the cameras seem to live a short life here), I like taking them when I have a camera in hand. But there's one big stumbling block- I forget to bring it to special occasions!

Not this time though.

My darling husband bought me a teeny-tiny camera that's small enough to carry in my purse- case and all! So as long as I keep the thing charged (let's not get into that just yet), I'm good to go.

And so far, it has served me well!

The funny thing is, I haven't been taking too many pictures of the family. It has been snowing here on a regular basis, so I've been taking pictures of winter scenes, the sky at sunset, and the occasional animal that happens to cross my path. I did manage to get a few head shots of myself, so you'll finally be getting a look at me sometime soon on the Ruby of Women website.

Okay, so I can't wait. This is me!

This is the only picture I actually like of myself. And yes, my hair is naturally curly. Don't envy me though, it's a bear to brush out each morning and evening. And after I brush, I look like a woman with a bush on her head.

I have yet to get a family picture, because I'm usually the one holding the camera! I might have to get a neighbor over here to take it- then you can see the beautiful people I live with that I want to smack on occasion.

So now that I'm expanding my computerized horizons, I'd like to ask you something. Actually a few somethings. I want to know what you like to read about on this blog. I want to interact with my readers more- both at Ruby and here. But it begins with you. Tell me also if you see something that could be improved upon (like pictures!) Share your ideas and suggestions in the comment section- I would love to know what you're thinking!

The Agony of De Feet

2011-01-17T07:11:00.000-08:00

This has been one eventful week and a half.

My son survived having a sprained wrist, and still bears the removable cast- the sprain is still hurting him, though he has a lot more movement in his fingers. Not fully, but much better than last week, thank the Lord!

Then one week later, he takes a tumble down his bedroom stairs and messes up his foot. On the right side. Just like his wrist. I spent the day taking him from the ER to the docs, to the orthopedic docs, getting test after test. He sprained his foot. Try to walk on crutches when you have a sprained wrist on the same side. Sheesh!

The good news is it wasn't nearly as bad as the wrist sprain, so he was up on crutches the next day. Two days off from school and a backlog of homework- which I gladly picked up from his teachers, much to his dismay. The wrist he isn't milking as much, but the foot? You bet he was trying his best to limp his way into our sympathies.

It might have worked too, had I not seen him nearly run to the computer when he was given permission to play on it a little bit. Heh.

He still has light chore duty (especially concerning steps), but all in all, he is okay enough not to need the crutches anymore. I did ask his teachers to allow him use of the elevator for classes this week, but after that, he should be fine and dandy. He only has to take the stairs to go to lunch, so by the end of the week, he should be able to do it.

During this time, my husband was diagnosed with walking pneumonia. He has chronic bronchitis, so getting pneumonia is not that uncommon, but left untreated, he can be in big trouble. Thank the Lord he went to the doc in time. The bad(der) news is that he had snow duty when we got over eight inches, and had to go shovel snow at work at four o'clock in the morning. Then he had to work overtime, so he wasn't home until almost nine o'clock that night. He worked overtime all week, leaving at six-thirty in the morning and returning after eight each night. All I could do was offer him a nice hot drink for his coughing fits and make sure he got enough sleep.

Before he had found out about the pneumonia, he wanted to celebrate my birthday by making a five course dinner, and letting me have some girlfriends over for the feast. I tried to talk him out of it after he was diagnosed, but this was something he wanted to do. He wasn't contagious, and he wasn't going to let a little coughing stop him from doing something he already had planned. A little coughing. Right. Guess the kids got the stubbornness from both sides of the family tree.

He was feeling better by the time Saturday came around, so I decided to not cancel his plans. The girls and I had a blast! He had really outdone himself.

We had a garden salad to start, shrimp bisque (the broth his made was outstanding!), then a fruit salad (to cleanse the pallet), then herbed chicken with pasta in a cream sauce, and dessert was a chocolate-berry cake with chocolate ganache filling, and a cherry chunk whipping cream sauce to pour over the top. Can you say YUM? All of this took place over a two-hour period, with his grandmothers antique china. I've never felt so special on my birthday!

And there's a lot of shrimp bisque left over. Hee hee!

The kids are home today for the holiday, and my husband is back to working overtime all this week. I'm looking into make some new recipes that he can take for lunch (which can be tricky- he doesn't always have time to heat up food, yet hates muffins and other room-temp savory baked things I could make- he's a hot-or-cold kinda guy). Maybe I could make up some special iced tea he can take to help soothe his coughing a bit. Either that, or surprise him once in a while by bringing him a nice, hot lunch. That might work! I'm so glad you're here to talk to! It helps me think better.

My daughter and I have survived this week with our bodies in tact and our health uncompromised, to which I am eternally grateful. I slept in a little later than normal this morning, and the house is a complete mess, so all of us will be busy, including Gimpy, the Wonder Boy.

So now you know why I've been scarce this week! I was almost afraid to post anything, lest I be needed to take someone to the ER or docs office. I tend to zone out the world when I'm writing- even a blog post like this one- so I need to hold off writing anything when I have to be alert for falling children.

God bless all of you, and I hope your week goes better than mine did last week! Stay safe and healthy, and remember to give your loved ones a kiss and a hug. Then go wash your hands- the kids probably had sticky faces. ;)

All this Trouble in Three Days?

2011-01-07T07:38:00.000-08:00

I love my son. I really do. But I would give my eye teeth to make him understand the idea of self control.

He's going to be thirteen soon (if he makes it until next month), And I'm not sure if his recent actions are from becoming a teen with raging hormones, or that he has Aspergers and just doesn't understand how to control himself.

It's probably a bit of both.

Two days back from Christmas vacation he accidentally nails a kid in the lip with a pencil (the teacher said the other child is fine). Then yesterday he gets his wrist caught between two heavy doors at school, and I get a call from the school nurse, saying he's in her office, moaning and cradling his wrist as if it was going to fall off.

"How bad is it?" I ask.
"There is a little swelling, and we put ice on it, but he's fussing so much that maybe you'd better take him to the doctor's office."
"You think he's Drama Kinging?" I ask, both of us knowing full well he likes to make life a bit more interesting when he's hurt.
"At first I thought so, and I still think he's overdoing it some, but it really should be X-rayed, just to be sure."
"X-rayed? I'll get him as soon as I can."

Unfortunately I didn't have the car- my husband did. So he got off from work early to pick him up.
Ten minutes later, I get another call from the nurses office.
"Mrs. Brubaker, after I finished speaking with you, another student came in and he's sitting there chatting with her. He's still cradling his wrist, but he stopped moaning about the pain. Do you still want to get him?"
It's only about forty-five minutes until school ends for the day, but I knew my husband was already en route. I told her my husband would be there soon, and hung up the phone with a sigh. He picked up my daughter from school too (since she got out soon after he picked up my son), dropped her off at the house, and off to the emergency room they went.

They got home three hours later, my son sporting a splint wrapped up all the way to his elbow, and a huge grin on his face. Apparently he got a lot of attention from the ER staff. He couldn't wait to show everyone his injury in school this morning.

The funny thing is, it was a slight sprain, so he was milking it for all it was worth. My husband was asked by one of the ER docs, "Did you really need to bring him here? The sprain isn't that bad." But because the doctors office was closed, this was our only other option so he could get back into school. Basically, it looks worse than it is, and that's just the way my son likes it.

Of course he's right-handed, and it was the right wrist he hurt. Kind of hard to feel sorry for him when he's grinning more than a Cheshire cat and stating he hurts too much to do any chores or homework. I'll give him today off, but after that, the Drama King is on light duty!

I'd love to see what's happening at school right now, especially since he was supposed to write an apology letter to the classmate that he hurt the other day as part of his discipline. It's times like these I wish I had a spy camera, just to see how long he's going to wheedle his way out of any written work. It might be good book material!

Please Lord, let this day be uneventful!

Oh no....Is that the phone ringing?

Let the Baking...End!

2010-12-22T04:49:00.000-08:00

Well, that does it. I'm done baking. My husband isn't, but I am. Why? Because my hip decided it had had enough and 'twinged', making me hobble like someone walking on a teeter-totter. So I am listening to my body, and sitting this one out.

At last count, we had over 150 dozen cookies made. The chocolate chips were being demolished, so we need to restock. So my husband has taken the reigns and will complete the tasks. Meanwhile, I'll be making cookies platters and bags for the staff of the two schools my kids attend, as well as a snack for their classmates.

Two out of three parties were attended, and the cookies trays were a hit! People came, they saw, they devoured. Mostly the chocolate chips. I thought for sure the kids would go for the sprinkle cookies since they were so colorful, but little kids aren't as naive as I thought- they went right for the chocolate.

I also made peasant bread and two dips- one was spinach dip, the other was a warm pepperoni dip. Both were consumed in great quantities, but the pepperoni dip won out. I received a lot of requests for the recipe. There wasn't much left!

The last party is our open house, and I have no idea how I'm going to clean up for it when my hip is whining at me. I'm wondering if I can get away with playing supervisor, sitting on the couch like a queenly version of Jabba the Hutt, ordering about my family as if I were the boss. I am the boss when the hubster isn't home- but I would love to just sit there and be the queen bee whilst the house was getting cleaned up. But I know better. The moment the kids see me sitting, they figure they can sit too, then my husband has to light a fire under their keysters. So to save the drama, I'm best to be out of sight, out of mind, so I'll take my gimpy self somewhere else.

To the sewing room, Batman!

My sewing room is where the gifts are stored and wrapped. The room is off limits to family until Christmas. After that, it will become my sewing space again, and my no-cleaning sanctuary until the open house (which is between Christmas and New Years).

I just hope I survive.

Don't get me wrong- I love doing this each year! I love feeding the masses, I love all the company, and I love to see people having a great time. I would just like a little more time to do it all. Twenty-four hours in a day just isn't enough. Either that, or God gives me another body that isn't so gosh darn big to lug around! (like that's His fault and not mine for eating too many chips.) And if He doesn't want to give me a new body (yet), I'd request the metabolism of a hummingbird. For one month. Any more than that and I would slip down the drain when I took a shower.

So the baking of cookies is done for me, though I still have some bread to make. I love making bread. I love eating bread. I love giving bread away so others can enjoy it. So come over my house so I can give you some. And no, this time I'm not making eighty loaves. That's next week.

Let the Baking Begin!

2010-12-14T08:21:00.000-08:00

We're in the home stretch of the Christmas holidays, and I'm baking as much as possible! We like to do this every year for special family and friends, and this year I plan to go all out!

What has been made so far:

30 dozen no roll sugar cookies with jimmies/sprinkles on them. Easy to make! I made these all in one day, while everyone was out with friends. My arms still hurt.

12 dozen powdered sugar shortbread cookies. I messed with the original recipe several times, and I'm getting closer to a Pepperidge Farm Milano style cookie. Not there yet, but close! I'm going to sandwich these together with dark chocolate anyway, so there's more like 6 dozen by the time I'm done- if I don't sample any.

What is planned:

Another 30 dozen sprinkle cookies. I have the dough made, I just need time to make them!

40 dozen Monster cookies. These are a no flour cookie made with oats, peanut butter, and chocolate chips (among other things), that everyone loves but I hate, so I don't touch. Oats and me just don't get along.

20 dozen chocolate chip cookies. This is a guesstimate, based on how much time I'll have to bake before I collapse- or the table collapses. Possibly even the floor too, since we'll be storing them in tins in the pantry to keep them fresh and out of little kitty paws. I've never baked around cats, and I found out that cats like to snatch butter cookies and taste raw monster cookie dough. Can't leave them alone for a second- even to answer the phone. Cats are now banned from the kitchen, and my daughter posted a sign to let them know. I hope they can read.

Basically, we're doing about a dozen dozen cookies- or is that a gross dozen? Not sure, but it's going to be between 140 and 150 dozen total. And most are going to go out as gifts for friends, family, and to gatherings like church, Christmas parties, and our open house. Most will be baked this week, if I have anything to say about it. My kids are concerned they won't have any by the time I'm done offering them to others. They like giving them out too, but nervously look back at the tins to see how full they are. I don't think they have to worry, do you?

Did I also mention I'm planning on making homemade breads too? Banana is first on the list, then some peasant bread and maybe some spinach dip and pepperoni dip. these will be the focal points of our goody baskets, as the breads are nestled into a pile of cookies like big, rectangular Easter eggs. I think we'll need a bigger car.

I'm still feeling it in my arms and shoulders. I'll be sporting some major pipes after this! Good thing all that new muscle will be covered in a feminine layer of fat. I don't want to get all bulky and stuff.

I figure as long as I bake the cookies and don't actually eat them, all will be well. Except for the Milanos. Those suckers are mine. Let them eat the oat bombs.

So, what are you doing for Christmas baking? Let me know at
bethbrubaker@rubyforwomen.com

Have a great Christmas and God Bless!

Common Courtesy...Isn't!

2010-12-10T09:51:00.000-08:00

Whatever happened to good old common courtesy? I see some people doing things now that I would never even dream of doing! And much of it happens right outside my front door.

You see, we rent our home and the landlord has a huge shed in the back, with a driveway leading to it. We are not supposed to park in the driveway, so the only spot we have to ourselves is the one in front of the house. We also live next door to a daycare. Many of the patrons of that daycare (NOT the employees), seem to think that my parking spot and driveway are there for their convenience.

Believe me, it's not!

Most times I don't care if my spot is taken. I can either wait for the person to come out (most times it's someone leaving or dropping off their child), or park somewhere else- but I can't park in front of the daycare. The last time I did I received a thirty dollar ticket. Most times I can find out whether the landlord is coming that day, and use the driveway on his off-days. He's a pretty nice guy, but I feel bad when he has to come to the door and ask me to move my car.

For the past ten years things haven't been too bad- most of the time people are pretty understanding when I explain the situation and they park somewhere else. But this year seems to be the Year of Idiocy. People not only park in my driveway when I'm out, they park across my driveway, blocking me in! One time I had to take my sister-in-law to the ER and I was blocked in by one of the patrons. I yelled for the woman to come back (and why) and she had the guts to tell me she would 'only be a few minutes'. My sister-in-law has type 2 diabetes, so a few minutes could cost her her life.

Some days it's really hard to be a Christian.

Yesterday was one of the worst. I had a bunch of Christmas gifts in the back seat, with about ten minutes to get the stuff in the house, hide it, and get my daughter from school. I don't normally run late, but you know how it is when you are out Christmas shopping!

I returned home to find not only someone parked across my driveway, but someone else had double parked right beside him! Even if I'd found the first person, he couldn't move his car because of the second car. I'd had enough.

I walked into the daycare, asking in a very loud voice who the manager was. With me shouting the entire time about having asked people not to park there, we found the people involved and they moved. I gave the manager a piece of my mind and walked out, getting into my driveway as fast as possible.

But the story doesn't end there- not by a long shot!

I took the stuff in the house and ran back out to see... another car had blocked me in. This time it was someone dropping something off at the thrift store across the street. Why did I think living near businesses was a good thing? I yelled for the person to move (Hey lady, can't you see I'm parked in the driveway?) and this older woman came out of the passenger side seat and yelled- 'Just a few minutes'! By this time I had totally lost it and began yelling about people making me late to get my kids from school and the rude people who think I have 'Just a few minutes' of my time to waste.

"Where's your sense of compassion?" she yelled back. "Where's your sense of courtesy?" I retorted. "I don't park over your driveway, so please stay out of mine!" She waved me off and she and her friend took their time unloading.

Sometimes it's really, really hard to be a Christian.

I prayed for patience, because if I had prayed for strength, I would have hung this woman by her coat on the nearest flagpole.

Finally, they moved.

I jumped in the car, threw it into reverse, and started backing out- at least until another car parked across the driveway!

Okay, I'm taking a deep breath right now.

The guy sees I'm trying to back out. He sees that I just yelled at someone else for parking there. Yet he still parked. Then he backed up a few feet and waved me on, like everything was hunky-dory. Are you kidding me?!?

He left me just enough room to get out of the driveway at a really tight angle, and without another word, I sped off to go get my daughter. My hands were shaking. It was below freezing outside yet I was sweating. I had not been this angry in years. African bees would have been scared of me. I had to calm down.

Did you know you can pray with your eyes open? God doesn't always require you to keep them shut- especially when you're driving at the time. Nor does He mind if your teeth are tightly clenched- just as long as your praying to Him.

When I got the the school, I parked and prayed a bit more before getting out. No sense scaring the kids.

I wasn't exactly feeling peaceful, but at least I had stopped shaking. And I'd parked a block away so I could walk off the rest of my anger. By the time I reached the schoolyard I was fairly calm and felt I could talk to people without barking like a drill sergeant.

The driveway was clear when I came home, and my parking space was available. So I parked, then waited for my son at the bus stop. After he arrived on the school bus, I told the kids to go into the house- I had to make one more visit to the day care center.

I was buzzed in and went to the main desk. And I apologized for my yelling at the manager- after all it wasn't her fault these people were idiots. In fact she agreed with me about the situation! She has also warned the patrons not to park in or around my driveway, as well as leaving a space for their own school bus. She said she was going to alert the parking authority about the situation, as well as the problem times (dropping off and pick-up), because many people would double park and block the entire street.

I really hate the idea of people getting tickets over this- I know people are hurting financially, and I've been warning people wrongfully parking for a long time. They should know better. There are signs posted by the day care itself, warning of parking violations. The drivers just don't care, and to be honest, I'm tired of telling everyone.

It's hard being a Christian. Sometimes being nice isn't always the answer- On occasion, tough love is required to get the point across. And these people are in serious need of a wake-up call.

My Bustle needs to Hustle!

2010-12-07T05:08:00.002-08:00

Ever have one of those years? Ever have one of those decades?

We are the people everyone usually envies this time of year. We have the tree up right after Thanksgiving, the house is decorated nicely, but not overly so, and by now we have at least three types of cookies resting in huge tins to keep them fresh for gift-giving. Ninety percent of the gifts are bought, and the only things I usually have left to buy are the stocking stuffers and maybe some new ornaments for the tree that were on sale.

But that was over ten years ago.

Year by year we've done things a day later, then two days, then a week, and now I'm not so happy to say that we just got our Christmas tree. Not that that's a bad thing- many people get their trees as late as Christmas Eve, but for us, this is way too late- two weeks, to be exact. We'd planned on getting the tree the weekend after Thanksgiving!

So far we have the lights on it, but that's all. the house still bears a lot of clutter to clear before we even decorate, and the boxes of decorations are stacked about the floor waiting eagerly for someone to open them up. But not yet. They'll have to wait a little longer.

There are no cookies made yet, but I have most of the ingredients bought. There is a list, and I don't mean Santa's. I love lists. Lists are the best things in the world for someone like me who forgets things a lot. Now if I can only find them, I'd be in good shape.

I have a list for cookies I want to make, a list of the chores that need to be done, and a list for the goody baskets I want to make. But the oven is still a cold hole in the wall, because I have yet to make a single batch. Why? Because my kitchen also needs some straightening up before I start!

I should hire a cleaning service, but they can't do what I really need them to do- which is get rid of my clutter. They have no clue as to what papers are important (like my daughter's drawing of a dragon sniffing flowers), and I'd be afraid these treasures would be thrown out. Of course any bill would be happily tossed, if just for the liberating effect; my husband pays them online anyway, so the paper parts are only needed for filing. I consider the recycle bin the biggest of my filing cabinets. At least that thing gets emptied once a week! So hiring someone is out. I just have to get it done myself, or get the kids to help me. I'm not sure which would be more detrimental to my health at this point.

Sorry about the rambling....Back to Christmas.

Most of the presents are bought, thank goodness! I still have a bit more to buy than I usually do, and there's even some Christmas sewing to finish up. The shopping should only take a single afternoon (I'm a fast shopper), and the sewing projects are fairly simple- I just need to dedicate the time (about three hours total), and I'll be done. But then there's the gift baskets to make for family and friends once the baking is done, and the house to decorate before the baking. And I have two weeks. Maybe a little more than that, but still, I'm almost panicking here! And I hate running late for anything!

Parties are another thing. I have two to attend that are family affairs (and family parties are usually mandatory), and one we're having ourselves- but ours is after Christmas but before the New Year. We've made it a tradition to have an open house a few days after Christmas, just to relax and chat with friends and family- and it isn't mandatory. That week is usually my busiest, because I go all out in making party food; Handmade pie crusts tucked into mini cupcake tins for mini quiches, pigs in a blanket, those ham wraps with the pickle and cream cheese filling- you name it, if it's down home snacks that don't require capers, I usually make it. But then I'm too tired to enjoy my company!

This year will be different. I hope.

This year I plan on making (ahead of time of course!), homemade breads, savory dips, cookies, pigs in a blanket (they can be made ahead and frozen for convenience), dessert breads, and homemade chicken bites that are good hot or at room temp, so I won't be cooking all day. Everything will be prepped beforehand, so when I see something running low I can just pop whatever it is in the oven when needed. No forks, no fancy china- just pretty plates and napkins and a large trash can for easy clean-up.

Bliss!

I just hope to have the house decluttered by then! If not, then a lot of my stuff will be draped in lovely Christmas fabric from my quilting stash. Either way I'll have it covered (forgive the pun!)

I hope your Christmas isn't as hectic as mine! Take time out for a nice hot cup of cocoa (or anything chocolate!), and take a deep sniff of that yummy rich goodness God made especially for women, smile, and relax. Even if it's for five minutes. Think of me and be glad you aren't me (if you have less to do), or be comforted in the fact that you aren't the only Christmas nutball on the planet (if you have as much or more to do!) Then drink (or eat) that chocolaty yum-yum and get back to work! :)

Beware the Squisher!

2010-11-24T17:30:00.000-08:00

The worst thing you can find is a lump in your breast. The second worst thing to do is go get it looked at, because the doc will always say those four words that make any woman shudder - you need a mammogram.

My last one was five years ago for a good reason. It was my first and my last one, and not an experience I wanted to do again. But I had a lump, and I was afraid it would be something horrible. So I went to the boob squisher's domain and waited for my impending doom.

It didn't matter that there was a private wing just for women. They try to lull you into a sense of comfort when they offer you your very own little locker and a heated robe fresh from the steamer. Though I admit, that was a nice touch. But you always know what's coming- like I kid knows when it's time for a needle in the doc's office.

They told me they have state-of-the-art equipment now, and that it's not nearly as painful as in the past, because it's all digital. But machines have no nervous system, and no mercy. Me having a lump wouldn't matter to a machine that could turn my triple D's to triple Longs in a heartbeat. All at the convenient push of a button.

It's even more fun if you have a lump, because they need to torture you twice- once for the entire boob, then again with a smaller press to pinpoint the lump in question. And the technician had the gall to tell me not to breathe. Duh!

Afterward I asked her just how much of a masochist one has to be to qualify for her job, holding my now flattened mammary like a tender, half-filled water balloon. She found my jibe funny, but never answered. I limped back into the waiting room (yes, it hurt that much!), and joked to the others that I was an A cup when I came into the clinic.

Now I had to wait for an ultrasound. At least I knew this was not going to be painful!

I was gelled up and this little thing that looked like a lady shaver came into contact with my now tender breast, showing me all kinds of things I didn't want to see. Let's just say I stopped counting after she found lump number ten. All lumps under the first one, like a bunch of grapes. But thankfully none of them were malignant!

So being the curious person I am, I asked what those things were. Cysts, was the reply, the technician smiling and handing me a towel to wipe off the goop. "So if I get those drained, I'll be what, a C cup?" I asked jokingly. Of course she told me that it was possible that I could shrink a bit. Then I got an idea.

"You mean those cysts are just filled with fluid? And they'll shrink when drained?" I asked eagerly. She replied in the affirmative. I grinned. "Maybe I'm not overweight after all! Can you use that thing on my thighs?" I looked at her happily, hoping she would say yes. All I got in return was a laugh. Apparently I need a doctors note for her to goop and snoop again, darn it. I need to look further into this!

It's now late evening, and my lump(s) still hurt a little. So If you're scheduled to get a mammogram, beware the Squisher- and wear some really soft, comfy clothing. As for me, I'm going to take an extra soft pillow to bed with me tonight- after I limp up the stairs....*whimper*

Being Thankful For Boob Marbles!

2010-11-24T16:39:00.000-08:00

I do apologize for not posting on any of my blogs as of late- you see, about a month ago I found a large lump on my left breast, and went into panic mode.

I hoped for the best, but planned for the worst. Sometimes it's a curse to have such a great imagination! The best scenario would be nothing was wrong, and I just had a boob marble or something stupid like that- whatever a boob marble is. I thought maybe I just banged it and had a bump that would go away. Eventually.

The worst scenario would be cancer- my dad had it (he adopted me, so it wouldn't have been hereditary), and our family went through hell both emotionally and financially. I swore I wouldn't do that to my family. I planned on writing letters to my kids for each of their birthdays as well as those special times like a first date, or driving the car, getting married and anything else I could think of. I wondered of I had that long to write all those letters to both of my kids, hoping I had enough time to bestow my words of wisdom on simple pages of printer paper. I thought of making a DVD as well, just so they would remember me as their mom who loved them very much. Just thinking of doing that made me cry!

But then I started thinking- did I want to leave this world sad and depressed? Did I want to go out angry? Neither seemed like the best way.

If God wanted me that bad, I figured I would go out laughing- being the positive person I think I am (please read the hidden irony). I had the funeral planned with me wearing a T-shirt that said "Shhh! I'm just sleeping!", and wanted to be buried next to my dad, whose headstone bore the single word meaning "male bovine bowel movement" (his favorite word in life). I still had no idea what to put on my own stone (though an arrow pointing to my dad's gravestone, bearing the words 'Yeah, what he said' was considered), but I knew it would have to make someone smile when they came to visit. That's how I intended on leaving this life, making people laugh as I made my way to heaven.

God had other plans. He used this as a wake-up call to get me back on track and back into Him. I admit that I haven't been the best I could be in His eyes, and we both knew it. But sometimes God has to be blunt to make a point, and making boob marbles is one way He does it. At least for me. I needed to sweat this out a little first.

This is what I have learned so far:

* I stopped putting off inviting people over because my house was messy.
* Both my husband and I made a list of people we wanted to invite to dinner, and will go down that list at least once a month.
* I am planning more lunch dates with friends. I'll no longer wait until I have the funds to go out- I can always invite them over to my messy house!
* Hug my kids and husband more often, and tell them that I love them. Every day, several times a day.
* Pray more. A lot more.
* People are more important than Facebook games.
* My husband and kids are more important than anybody on this earth.
And last but certainly not least:
* Be thankful to God for everything! Including boob marbles.

So please take these words to heart and accept my apology for not posting for so long!

Raiding the Candy Bowl

2010-11-10T06:06:00.000-08:00

The Halloween candy was sitting there in my pantry, so out of sight, out of mind, unless I was craving a little chocolate. A piece here and there, and I was fine. But one day I reached into the bowl and got a surprise. The kids dared to eat some of their own chocolate candy! My survival instincts went into panic mode, and I found myself having several pieces each time I went to the bowl- and the visits were more frequent as each day passed.

I know the kids noticed, and my husband noticed too, but no one said anything. What happened next was claimed to be an accident. My husband said my daughter had left a honey jar at the edge of the shelf, and the lid wasn't on straight when it was knocked off, right into the candy bowl. So honey dripped into the bowl, covering everything. Sure it did.

I hate honey. And worse yet, I hate touching wrapped candy that's coated in honey. And they all knew it.

But I am a very clever mommy- honey washes off!

So now I grimace when I raid the bowl, but then I run over to the sink and do a quick warm rinse on the candy, then towel dry, and settle down triumphantly in my chair and crack open my cache of goodies. They may be smart, but I'm smarter. The only downer is when some of the water seeps into the wrapper, and I have wet candy to eat. But that doesn't happen often, and fingers can be licked clean, as long as there isn't any honey residue.

So I'll enjoy the run while it lasts, which might not be much longer after having taken a look at the remaining candy. Especially the chocolate.

Confessions of a FaceBook Addict

2010-11-08T06:57:00.000-08:00

When I first went on FaceBook, I was a skeptic. Why on earth would anyone be on this thing for hours at a time, telling people about clipping their toenails, and other trivial things? Why let us know about your most recent fight with a loved one, or posting pics of your cat licking himself? And what was with all the games?

Then I played Farmville, and I was hooked.

I spent my days not blessing my family be cleaning the house, baking or doing all that mom and wifey-type stuff, but playing facebook games. The lowest point in my life came when I was online more than with my kids, and I was playing thirteen games simultaneously. Yes- thirteen games. All at the same time.

It became an obsession.

The house wasn't being cleaned, the dishes remained in the sink, and even making dinner was put on hold because my farm needed tending, or I had to dig just one more hole to find the treasure. I was bowing willingly to the idol that was facebook, as well as my computer screen. Even when I managed to get offline, I was still playing games I bought off of a game site. And my family suffered for it.

It took me almost a year to wean myself off of these games, by cutting down until I was playing three. Not bad, but it still could take almost three hours for me to 'get satisfied' enough that I could shut down the computer. The funny thing is, since I'm a freelance writer at home, I couldn't just shut the computer off all the time- most of the business of writing was done online too!

That was when my husband got me a laptop. I don't play games on it, and have no connection to the Internet. It would just be too tempting! I use a flash drive to transfer my writing to the main computer now, but even with this great technological advance in my home, I was still playing too many computer games.

Then something in my life changed. Sorry, I can't tell you what it is just yet- and please don't ask. Let's just say what happens next could be life changing, and not for the better. And no, my hubby and kids are fine- it's just me who's changing. The changes I've already seen in myself are amazingly good despite what's happening. People blossom in adversity.

I've deleted all the time consuming games. I admit I still play one, but I can play it within ten minutes, and I don't need a bazillion facebook friends to play it. No one will die, and I don't need to worry about time constraints. Canceling those games was a big step for me- like an elephant attempting a jump. (Elephants can't jump, but don't tell them that.)

My morning ritual consisted of being on the computer and telling the kids to do their chores. It usually wound up with me yelling, and them feeling harried and unappreciated. It was hard for me to keep my temper, all because I was playing a game that took precedence over my kids. And I never even realized I was doing it until this weekend! I knew I yelled too much at the kids, but I could never seem to stop myself.

This morning was different.

I awoke with a sense of purpose- that I would simply refuse to do anything today that wasted a lot of my time, I was going to spend time with the kids, and I would do my best not to yell. Please note I never promised I wouldn't yell at all- that would be a harder task than an elephant jumping!

I folded four loads of laundry, got more laundry into baskets for washing, and got the kids up and moving. As they ate breakfast with their dad I got dressed, put some of the folded clothes away and went downstairs after my husband left for work. I greeted my kids with a smile and kisses to their foreheads as they went upstairs to get dressed. The computer was on, but I passed right by and started straightening up the place a little. I was so tempted to sit there and play the games, but kept moving. I had to or I would be sucked into my addiction like ants in a vacuum cleaner.

When the kids came down for their morning chores, they were surprised to see me straightening up, instead of being on the computer. I even suggested we play some of the silly songs we heard on Youtube and other sites (the kids love Fred's- The BabySitter's a Vampire, the Gummy Bear song and the Crazy Frog Brothers), and they loved it! As long as they did chores I would replay their favorites, and we got a lot done. I only had to yell one time when they were paying more attention to the screen than to me, and I sat down once with my son because he wanted to do things his way, like not put his sneakers on until the last second before he had to go to school. Last week was a nightmare because he did this and ran late, so I sat him down and firmly told him this was not something under his control. I was Mom, and he needed to be ready for school, Period. In a calm voice. He actually listened. And I didn't have to yell.

In fact, when they did a chore well, I thanked them and kissed their cheek or hugged them. They loved it and beamed under the light of praise.

At the bus stop (which is right at my corner) I asked my son what he thought about this morning. He said he liked it. He liked that I helped and coaxed him to keep going, he liked that I played the music, and he liked that I wasn't yelling all the time. And he wanted it to continue, despite my lack of judgment concerning his footwear. He got onto the bus smiling and kissing me on the cheek.

I asked the same from my daughter as we walked to school, and the response was the same. She had fun doing chores for once, and liked the fact that I had helped and allowed them to play silly songs while we worked together. It was one of the best mornings I've had in a long time. And I didn't play a single game. I didn't even want to.

I came home and made something to eat, and only then allowed myself to play my one game. Ten minutes tops. And now I'm here making this post.

When something happens that changes your world view, it hurts to look back and see all the wrong you've done in the past, but it's really a necessary evil. You need to see what you've done in order to change things. Even passive wrongs like playing too much on a computer can do a lot of damage if not controlled. I might lose a few battles, because changing habits can be very hard to do- but the end result is worth more than gold to me. Today I was a real mom again, and not some game junkie who acted like she was a mother. Let the crops die. Let the animated treasures lie undiscovered. That doesn't matter. What matters is that my eyes are finally opened to see what I've been missing- real life with people who truly love me- and I have not been loving back the way I should.

I'm making changes, and I plan on sticking to those changes. Not just concerning games either, but life in general. No more being 'too busy' for inviting friends over for dinner. No more 'too tired' to snuggle with my husband. No more 'I have to do this first' when it comes to my children needing me. It just doesn't seem that important anymore. I've been too 'me' focused and 'thing' focused instead of 'family and friends' focused. And really, how much real love can you get from a computer anyway?

As for what's happened, I promise I will reveal what's been going on when I get more details and information. Until then, please pray for me and my family, and that I be a blessing to them as much as they have blessed me!

My Son, The Literal Lawyer

2010-11-03T07:35:00.000-07:00

I love my kids. I really do. But sometimes they can work a nerve so bad that even the most patient parents would lose it- and I am not one of those parents. This morning, my parental nerves got a workout they've never experienced before. Why?

Because my son is on his way to becoming thirteen, and he has Aspergers. This is not a good combination!

Aspergers is a form of autism that affects each child differently, so there is no 'one way' to handle it. Basically you need a lot of patience (something I don't have), and the willingness to explain things a thousand times without going completely mad (Something I can do this, but for only so long before my lips become numb).
Aspergers affects the neurons in the brain, making them not truly understand the subtle structures of socially accepted behaviors. But it makes up for it by making the brain super absorbent concerning math, science or music. Many of our great inventors could have had Aspergers, now that some historians look back into their history.

I've been reading this great book called Parenting Your Asperger Child , and I've found out some interesting things. My son, whom I thought was a Rule Boy, is actually a Logic Boy. He is fantasy oriented and has OCD tendencies.

You think with all that interesting stuff, he might be more inclined to clean his room. But Nooooo! You see, if he was a Rule Boy, there would be no issue- I would tell him that he needed to clean his room, and he would, because it was a Rule. But Logic Boys have the infinite power of reason, so they don't need the rules as much- but they need a plethora (that means a lot) of reasons to do anything they don't like, before they decide to do it. And if my reasons aren't good enough, well, it just won't get done.

"Because I said So" doesn't cut it anymore.

"Because if you don't, you won't have ice cream" is better, but he'll also settle for some other type of sweet snack if he really doesn't want to do something. He also takes things literally, so anything said must be weighed and measured carefully, otherwise (in his mind) it will be written in stone, and I couldn't change his mind unless God Himself came down off of Heaven to tell him differently.

I've asked God to do that very thing, but He just chuckles at me. God has a weird sense of humor- that's why he came up with the platypus- just to let us know we don't know everything, and that life should be laughed at sometimes. And that moms really need to watch what they say to their kids.

And now my darling child is entering teenagerism, when kids tend to think they know everything anyway, but he now has a double dose of 'Know-It-All-itis'. One day he might be a great inventor, or a scientist- if he makes it to adulthood. And right now his future is a little shaky.

I believe he would make a good lawyer, but only for those tough cases that can't find any legal loopholes. I'm telling you, this kid can find a loophole in the most solid of rules. He's a 'think outside the box' kind of child. He's brilliant. But he's also a big pain in the butt sometimes. A lovable one, but still.

The room isn't the only war zone in the house. He argues about what I ask him to wear, what chores need to be done, how they should be done, why they should be done, and in what order they should be done. The same goes for cleaning up a room. I told him to 'straighten up the living room' and he took it as 'pick up everything off the floor and dump it onto the couch'. After a ten minute explanation as to why that isn't considered straightening up the living room, he argued that what he put onto the couch was neatened, and took up a lot less space than it being all over the floor.

So in his mind, He did exactly as I told him.

I looked at the dirty socks and wrappers from a late Halloween snack and conceded that it all did seem quite neat- the socks were folded and the wrappers were smoothed and flattened, held by a pumpkin head trick-or-treat bucket. But that wasn't my point. Straightening to me was cleaning up and clearing out. But tell that to a twelve year-old with an 'I'm always right' complex. To him it was straightened, and no matter what I said, I was dead wrong.

Then we had The Great Debate concerning school clothes.

ME: (seeing him dressed in the wrong shirt) Please change your shirt- it's not the right one for school.
HIM: (huffs and puffs) Mooooom! It's dark blue! (coming close to show me, even though he is the one who's colorblind)
ME: (calmly) Yes, it's the right color, but you need to have a collar.
HIM: Mooooom! It's fine!
ME: I'm sure you can tell that to the principal when you get there.
HIM: (storms upstairs to change as I smile in triumph)
(At this point I think I've won- until he comes down in a navy turtleneck)
ME: Honey, that's not the right shirt for school.
HIM: (stomping of one foot, and a that snarky head toss teens give when the parental unit in question is particularly dense) It's the right color, and it has a collar!
ME: (trying not to lose my temper and duct tape his butt to the wall) Yes, it does, but not the right one. You need-
HIM: I know!
ME: You need a polo shir-
HIM: I Know!
ME: (has had it and uses the 'Mom' voice) Get upstairs RIGHT NOW and get on the proper shirt! And do NOT interrupt me again!
HIM: But-
ME: No buts! No arguing, no more telling me what the rules are- Go DO it- NOW!
HIM: (Stomps upstairs and takes his sweet time getting ready)
(fifteen minutes pass)
ME: (calls upstairs) Time to go! Are you ready?
HIM: (yelling from behind his closed bedroom door) I'm doing what you told me to do!
ME: How long does it take to change a shirt? It took you less than a minute the last time...
HIM: I know! I'm looking for a clean one!
ME: I just sent up a ton of clean shirts! You can't find one?
HIM: I thought they were dirty so I put them in the hamper!
ME: So get them out of the hamper!
HIM: NO! They're mixed in the with the dirty clothes now! I can't- Oh wait- I found one!
ME: (Thanking God for small favors) Hurry up then- It's almost time to go!
HIM: I know!
(three more minutes pass- on the verge of missing his bus)
ME: Come on honey! The bus will be here any minute! (HATES being late)
HIM: I know!
ME: (sees the school bus coming down the road) Now! The bus is here!
HIM: I know!
(sounding like a overweight elephant, he thunders down the stairs- we run out the door with him barely able to get on his coat and backpack as we run towards the corner)
(we get there just as the bus arrives, me wheezing like an asphyxiated moose)
HIM: (with a sweet smile, gives me a kiss on the cheek) I love you mom!
ME: (just gapes at him in surprise as he gets on the bus) Ah...bye Honey! Have a good day!
(five minutes later I'm walking my daughter to elementary school, glad to have the exercise to calm my nerves)

The relaxing morning I was hoping for was dashed to bits, lying amongst the debris of my living room floor. You see, the couch never was cleared off. The cats had found the wrappers and were busy playing with them as I was out with my daughter. I came home to shredded silver all over the rug, and two very happy cats. Then I sat down and started working on this post.

It isn't easy being a mom, and it sure isn't easy learning how to handle a child with Aspergers. I'm going to continue to read the book, and see if there's something else in there to help us communicate better. One thing I have to admire about him though is his tenacity- no one will ever stop him from doing what he wants to do- I just have to make sure he's on the right track when he does it!

Does Being Fat Really Mean You're Unhealthy?

2010-10-28T11:02:00.002-07:00

In a word, No.

You hear it all the time on the radio and TV. Get fit! Be healthy! Well, I'm sorry health gurus of the world- I'm fat, and I'm healthy. If you look at my medical charts, I'm darn near perfect, at least concerning blood chemistry.

Take a look in the dictionary- the definition of healthy is having good health; well; sound. in fact, in my edition (Websters New World Third College Ed.), it even says large and vigorous! That last one surprised me a bit.

The definition of fit is to be the proper size and weight; in good physical condition; healthy. Yes, it does say healthy, but if you look under healthy, you do not see the word fit.

What I'm not is fit. And there's a huge difference, if you excuse the pun. I can only run so far before I get out of breath, and I'll never win a triathlon at this weight. But being thin doesn't mean you're well, and that's where the problem lies. I can run circles around some of my thinner friends. Just because people are thin (though they may look good), doesn't mean they're fit. But people tend to lump together fit and healthy as if they're the same thing, and that's just plain wrong.

Let's take a look at my medical chart. My blood pressure is low/normal (I forget how it goes, but it's either 80 over 110 or 100 over 80) and my heartbeat is 60-70 beats per minute. In some health circles, that's close to being athletic! That is, if you don't look at my weight.

I have no issues concerning blood chemistry- sugars, cholesterol, triglycerides..all that good stuff is within the norm. I'm just under the bar concerning iron, but a little spinach or broccoli can fix that. I also have hypothyroidism, which means my thyroid is a lazy bum and won't do it's job- so I have to take a supplement to compensate. It contributes to being overweight to a certain degree, but it isn't the only factor.

And my weight? I am a svelte 312 pounds. Do I like being this big? No. Am I working on losing weight? Yes. Am I unhealthy? Absolutely not! And I know there are others out there just like me.

I walk two miles a day taking my daughter to and from school for a total of ten miles, and as a family we go for walks when we can on the weekends. I do eat more than my metabolism can handle, but I eat very little junk food. I cook at home (so I'm aware of every ingredient) and we have veggies and fruit aplenty in the house. In fact, I'm eradicating as much sugar from the menu as possible, and limiting how much my kids eat of it.

And thank the Lord, I'm hardly ever sick. And my family is healthy too. And I'm the only one who isn't a normal weight.

We need to realize that words have power. They can be used to manipulate others into thinking the wrong way about things. Being fat isn't the best body type to be, but that doesn't mean that person suffers from a ton of health issues. Being thin doesn't mean you don't suffer from health issues! In the past, insurance companies have stopped fat people from getting health insurance (or any kind of insurance for that matter), without even glancing at their medical history. All they saw was the weight and crossed us off as a risk. Laws are being passed now to stop this, but it will take time before people understand we are not a walking health hazard just because we're fat.

I'm not saying that there isn't an epidemic of weight gain in this country- I'm not saying that everyone should be fat, and that fat is wonderful- or that it doesn't carry some risks. I would love to be thinner- but I'm not going to starve myself to do it- or take diet pills, or skimp on meals. That would make me unhealthy in the long run! I'm just pointing out that 'fit' and 'healthy' are two very different animals, and should be treated as such.

My Daughter is on Youtube!

2010-10-28T09:04:00.000-07:00

My daughter was asked to sing in church again! My darling husband loaded it into Youtube- isn't that cool? Here she is!

Life In the Fat Lane

2010-10-24T04:50:00.003-07:00

I have to get a little serious here folks. There's something that's been on my mind for some time, and I wanted to share this with you.

Maybe you're seen my facebook photo. Maybe you're heard me talk about my weight in the past. But the simple fact is, I'm fat. And people seem to have no problem pointing that out to me- like I don't know. Being fat is something I deal with all the time and don't need to be reminded of, thank you very much.

Kids are especially insensitive, and though their comments hurt, I take them with a handful of salt instead of a grain because they're kids- and kids tend to blurt out anything that's in their heads. It's their nature.

It's the adults I want to smack upside the head sometimes. People really need to think before they speak, especially in front of others.

Here are some of the insensitive things that have been said/implied by strangers and friends that you should never utter to a fat person:

"Wow, you must eat a lot."- as subtle as this statement is, I overeat for my metabolism, but I don't actually eat a lot. I consume just as much as my husband does (he's a normal weight), but he has the metabolism of a jackrabbit.

"Is something wrong with you to be so...heavy?" - I suffer from hypothyroidism, which means my thyroid isn't producing enough stuff to make my metabolism work right. It doesn't help matters, but it's not the only reason I'm fat. Thanks for asking.

"Do you really think that will fit?" - It might, if I could wedge myself into that closet-sized dressing room. If I'm holding an item of clothing to try on, chances are I think it will fit. I'm usually a better judge of that than you are.

"You're eating an awful lot." If I asked you to be my diet buddy, or requested the assistance of the food intake police, this statement would be quite appropriate. However, it's not appreciated when I'm paying for my own meal and you're with me as a companion.

"Wow, you've gained weight!" Thanks, I never noticed. I was 110 lbs. this morning. Darn bee sting made me swell up. People who make this particular comment should be required to wear a fat suit for a week.

Some people use subtle gestures or body language to express their feelings about your weight. They might not actually say anything (at least until you bring it up), but a gesture is worth a thousand comments. Here are a couple of examples:

At a party someone was serving chips to those who were sitting around the room. She offered the chips to the person to my left, then walked past me and served the person to my right. "Excuse me," I said with a practiced smile. "I'd like some please." Only then did she offer me the chips, muttering "You don't really need these, honey." I don't really need to attend your party either, and I don't really need to give your daughter an engagement gift. Offer me the dang chips and mind your own business.

Sometimes I get dirty looks when I have something yummy like ice cream. It didn't matter that I hadn't had a cone in two years, or that I had just lost twenty pounds and decided to splurge on a few calories, but that people thought I was still 'too fat' to enjoy ice cream- like it was only for thin people. It makes me want to sit on their skinny little stick legs and break 'em. Or eat a bean burrito right before I sit on them- either one would work nicely for me.

(But I digress, that's a judgment on my own part. Skinny leg bones are the same size as my own- they just have less padding and girth.)

All I'm asking for is a little respect regarding my weight. I am not dirty, or a pig, and I'm certainly not a lesser being because I'm fatter than you. If I want help, I'll ask, otherwise just be my friend or offer me a smile if you don't know me. It will make us both feel good.

Days Off...Aren't!

2010-10-11T04:42:00.000-07:00

Ever notice for us at-home moms that when the family has a day off, it's usually more work for you?

There's also more play of course, but you lose that 'so-and-so is not in the house so I can clean/bake/read a book' time. And good luck with trying to get them to help with the chores!

During school/work days, they all have their own chore assignments; yet when a 'day off' is declared, all bets are off- this is a day to be lazy. Except for the moms.

Clothes still need to be laundered before the pile gets up and eats the family pet, tables and floors need to be cleared of debris so the house isn't condemned, and food needs to be prepared so everyone stays alive. Oh sure, they could probably make their own meals, but they would likely consist of jellybeans, chips and chocolate, washed down with sodas that contain enough caffeine to make a tortoise win a triathlon.

You could just let them have all that junk (it's just one day after all, states your spouse), but in your heart of hearts you know it will take you a week or more to retrain them that 'all that junk' was just a once in while thing, and not the new daily meal regimen.

You feed them good meals with vegetables every day for years, yet they just don't get that this is the regular routine- give them a day of junk, and they think mom has changed her nourishing nature overnight, going to the 'Junk Side'. Go figure. And as loving as your spouse is, you can't leave him in charge- the last time you did, the kids had ice cream for breakfast.

And ice cream is about the only thing you can't sneak veggies into- ever try to slip some spinach into the ice cream maker and tell them 'it's the new mint'? Trust me, it just doesn't work.

Moms could just take a day off themselves, but the entire family unit would shut down within minutes. Cries of boredom would ring out, hunger pangs would send them writhing on the floor in agony, and injuries would be abundant because no one bothered to pick up their coats, bodies flying everywhere as they try to walk over them.

But no one can go to the emergency room, because nobody can find their socks.

So we moms must be diligent in caring for our families, even on those so-called days off. Maybe if we get everyone out of the house for a while (yes ladies, you need to go with them), and enjoy a day away at the park or just go for a drive, we moms can have a lot of family fun and relaxation too!

Life is Like a Sewing Room...

2010-10-02T06:35:00.000-07:00

Okay, maybe not a sewing room, but certainly a room- take a look at any room in your house. Is there any space that you are completely happy with?

If you're like me, probably not- at least until you get that room cleaned up!

Sometimes our lives are so full of activity, that we forget to maintain things- and I don't mean actual things like dusting furniture and clutter- I'm talking about maintaining us.

Sometimes our inner selves resemble our surroundings. Mine was a cluttered mess (aka sewing room), not knowing where I wanted to be and getting lost in the mental mess; I can honestly say my house was reflecting the real me- sloppy and lazy.

I was sloppy in my thinking- saying things without giving a thought to what I was saying, waving others off if what they said didn't pertain to me or my interests. Sloppy in my heart concerning others- and God in particular. Mentally lazy because it was just too much work to change myself.

Then I went and cleaned that sewing space. And I learned a lot more about myself other than how to label items properly!

I found that I liked things where I could find them, and it was worth the work involved to get to that point. I'd also learned that it's much easier to maintain the space once it's neatened. But how was I going to do that, when the problems were inside my mind?

Clearing out mental clutter has to be one of the hardest jobs on the planet- especially if you're a writer like me, whose mind is always going in different directions! Even my ideas have ideas sometimes, and I tend worry a lot- mostly about silly things that will never happen. So the first task to do was to clear these thoughts out, and focus on what was important to me. Really important.

I'd made a list of all the things on my mind, then started crossing off the least important ones first, moving those items to a new list to be tucked away for later. Then I kept narrowing it all down until three or four remained. This was my Focus List.

Then I jotted down everything I wanted to change about myself under each listing. Not too many, but enough to get started. I could fine tune later. Now I'm working on each change, one day at a time. Any other things that clutter my thinking get written down and put aside. I'm decluttering my mind!

The best part is that once I'd gotten the ball rolling, things started to click together! You see, when fixing once aspect of your life (or house), it tends to trickle down and effect other areas in your life! And the work gets a little easier each time.

One thing to keep in mind though, if you plan on doing the same thing- unless you're living alone, things will not stay neat, nor will they ever be perfect. Kids and a husband are people I can't control (okay, the kids I can- but only to a certain point!), so I can't expect everything to be just as I want it. But I can control how I react to clutter and interruptions, and whether I decide if it's going to get me off track or not. And most times I have decided not to let those things sidetrack me.

So life is more like a sewing machine- everything stays together much better if the stitches are straight!

A Job Well Done!

2010-09-25T04:59:00.000-07:00

Everyone say it with me- WOOHOO!

I'm finally finished cleaning my sewing room!

Yes folks, it's official- everything is where it should be, and if it didn't have a spot, I put it out on the porch. I have a lot of stuff on the porch now!

I never realized just how much clutter I was clinging to until I started decluttering and leafing through my craft books. Many of the books are brand new (or close to it), and I've hardly cracked the spine on them! Not that they aren't good books (many of the quilting books)- I just have too many with similar patterns or crafts. So I gave them up, along with a lot of craft stuff.

I might just be selling it all soon- I'm not much for yard sales, but I was thinking of putting an ad in the paper or online. I think I have close to 50 books!

I really need to learn how to add pictures to this blog so I can show you my 'new and improved' space! The room has really opened up, and every container is labeled and stacked for easy access. I love it!

There's really only one problem now. Have you ever cleaned one shelf, only to notice how shoddy the rest of the cabinet looked? So you do another shelf, and another, and pretty soon you're restoring the entire room! Well, I did an entire room, and now I want that to happen in the entire house! No more sticking stuff in one spot because it doesn't fit into another, no more hot spots for clutter....I couldn't imagine having one room like that, no less my entire house!

When I had finished cleaning, it felt as if a huge weight came off my shoulders- and I liked that feeling. Even my kids were impressed when I showed them! But the entire house? No one is in my sewing room but me, so that's much easier to control. But with three other people using all the other space, I have a hard time seeing that happen- at least for more than five minutes.

The hardest part for me is maintaining the space- which should be the easiest when you think about it! But I usually wait until my life is threatened under piles of falling debris before I do anything. A bad habit I know I have to break, but there it is!

For now, I'll take refuge in my nice, neat, clean sewing/writing room when I get too overwhelmed. I have to be there anyway due to so many projects, so I don't think that will be a problem!

Spring Cleaning- in the Fall?

2010-09-20T04:15:00.000-07:00

I admit it- I'm not the best housekeeper. I hate cleaning! But I hate clutter more.

Last week I got fed up with my sewing space- things were too cramped and stuff was piled everywhere, some piles leaning farther than the Tower of Pisa. Some had decided to take the plunge entirely, scattering supplies and fabric about my floor like giant confetti. I had to do something.

I found my stash of graph paper and sketched out a rough layout of the floor. Then I guesstimated the size of the furniture, making little rectangles of paper that represented my sewing machine, table, bookcases and cabinets. I toyed with them for a bit until I came up with the perfect layout for the room- and of course almost everything had to be moved!

I happen to be blessed with the most supportive husband in the universe, and he agreed (with a muttered 'about time!') that I did in fact need to revamp the space. I made plans for a writing space too, because I was tired of my writing materials being scattered about the house. My husband heartily agreed this was an excellent idea, since my writing projects were often mixed in with his piano music!

There was one stipulation though- He said I was going to be the only one to touch my supplies- he refused to take the blame for anything that got misplaced or wound up in the same void as the socks go when doing laundry. I agreed (since I don't like anyone touching my stuff!) and rubbed on some elbow grease and got to work.

Clearing and cleaning is one thing, decluttering is quite another! I found I'd kept a lot of stuff I would never use. So I started a new Pisa tower of patterns and other supplies, boxing them up before they fell over and killed someone. I am now 90% finished, and the unwanted supplies are happily sitting on my porch awaiting new owners- once I place an ad. I want the room to be finished first though- you know how it is...You think you're all done, give away all the stuff, and just when you finish organizing, you find just a few more things that could have gone out too.

So I'm waiting. I should be finished this week!

I'll be so happy when I can finally open the windows and get some of that fresh air I talked about in the spring- but why do I always manage to finish spring cleaning in autumn??

Life in the Super Hectic Lane

2010-09-02T07:32:00.001-07:00

I have to admit I'd never thought I would ever be in the fast lane of life. I'm a homebody most of the time, and like life to move along at a nice pace. However, I can still say I'm not in the fast lane, because I blew past that lane a while ago! I'm now in the lane of the Super Hectic, going so fast my poor mind can't seem to keep up.

The past two weeks especially!

The quilt is almost finished! I should have that done sometime today, but today is also Grocery Day, and of course it's 96 degrees out. I wasn't going out because of the heat today, but other obligations outside the home have warranted me to be out and about- dagnabbit!

A few months back the car broke down on a hot day similar to this one (alternator blew). But I believe I failed to tell you that last week on the same stretch of road, I broke down again! This time the coolant decided to blow all over, making the engine smoke. Using skills that would even impress those at NASCAR, I drove, turned off the engine and coasted, stopped to cool the engine, started and shot forward, and repeated this until I got home. It was a triumph I hope I never have to do again, but I was very glad God got me through it without a mental breakdown!

We found out that hose and a temp gauge needed replacing. It cost a whopping 15 bucks to fix it all. After all that, you can't tell me there's no God!

However, I might be taking a different route to the store- that road seems jinxed!

Blessings were in the mix though- I had silently prayed that God would give me some kind of indication of what He wanted me to focus on in life- other than the mom and wife stuff. You see, I have been struggling with whether to focus on sewing or writing as an at-home career, and simply couldn't find my way. So I decided I needed a little help (okay, a lot of help) from Him.

I asked Him to show me a cardinal if He wanted me to write, a Blue jay if He wanted me to sew, or a white dove if He had other plans- and I left it at that.

So when Grocery Day came along, I had forgotten all about my prayer until my daughter pointed out a pretty bird in someones garden as we drove by. It was a bright red cardinal! I love it when He answers prayer!

Now it's the week before the kids go to school, and I have organized their clothing and supplies so they'll have what they need when the time comes. My son is going to middle school for the first time. Because he has Aspbergers, there will be a yellow bus stopping door to door from the house to the school, which is a great relief to me! My son loves to talk (he takes after his mom), and I seriously doubt he'd have made the right stops if he had to use public transportation. I could imagine getting a phone call later that first day..."Sorry about this Ma'am, but your son seems to have gotten chatty and was dropped off at the bus terminal...can you come pick him up?"

ACK!

I still have to get the schedule from the bus driver, so I know when he's supposed to be ready. It could be as early as 6:30, from what I hear- but I hope not!

And I completely forgot this was a three day weekend! See what I mean by Super Hectic? You know you're going too fast when you forget there's vacation time coming up! Okay, so it's not my vacation time (we haven't had one in twelve years), but my husband is going to be off from work. No 5:30 alarm, and no place to go- we invented the 'stay'cation before they had a word for it! But what a blessing it will be to be able to get off that Super Hectic highway and go on the back roads to do a little sightseeing with my husband for a while!

So if you are like me and cruising the Super Hectic highway, you know there isn't much time to smell the roses- or even see if there are roses! So this weekend I offer you a challenge- take at least two hours for yourself and do something that doesn't require 'accomplishing' anything. Read a book, people watch, play with the kids (although that is accomplishing something, anything fun doesn't count as work!), and do something to let your mind and body relax.

I plan on sleeping late and taking a walk in the park with my family this weekend! Just get off the highway and enjoy yourself!

The Devil's Playground

2010-08-24T08:15:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when you think things are going so well, the devil pops up with a big bat to mess you up. And lately, he's been popping up in my kitchen!

This past Thursday was my husband's birthday, and I baked and cooked all day to celebrate for when he came home. I did some cleanup on Friday, but just ran out of time to finish everything!

Saturday came, and I wasn't feeling well, so my husband was stuck doing about twenty dozen cookies for a friend's wedding reception, as well and the homemade lemonade and homemade iced tea for a special punch I make for the day of the wedding. Now if you remember anything I've told you about my husband in the kitchen, you'll remember that he always makes a huge mess- I don't care of he's making himself a cup of tea- he will use every pot, pan, and utensil to get the job done.

I was too busy to notice this at this time because I was not well, and then we had to get up Sunday for church, and zip over to the church where the wedding was held to setup the cookie tables and punch. Others had baked too, so I set their cookies onto fancy trays and readied punch bowls.

After the wedding, while the bride and groom were receiving and welcoming people, my family (yes, even the kids!) were working the tables getting glasses of ice, making the punch, and doing any last minute stuff to make sure everything looked right.

People came...and came....and came! Glass after glass of punch was taken, enjoyed, and refilled, and I had just managed to keep ahead of the crowd of guests. I loved every minute of it, but I never really got to talk to anyone unless they were in line. But the punch (and our efforts) was really appreciated!

One thing I wasn't expecting was that we had to clean up afterwards. No one told us (I was just asked to setup) but apparently if you agree to setup, you agree to clean up as well. When we finally finished and had the car loaded, I just wanted to go home and relax.

This was simply not to be.

The devil took that darn bat and managed to dirty almost everything in my kitchen. Cookie trays were piled here and there, mixing bowls and other odds and ends balanced upon each other like culinary acrobats, and we had yet to empty out the car which was also filled with things that needed washing. And there was no dinner to eat either.

I found that when truly desperate, fast food can be a wonderful thing! So that's what we did. Eagerly. Because cookies and punch do not a full tummy make, especially since one has been working a cookie buffet for the past three hours.

Don't get me wrong here- I truly loved doing all that we did! We love serving people food and drink, but we had hoped to do a little mingling too. And then coming home to a kitchen that looked like the Devil took a baseball bat to, well, that can be more than a little disheartening!

The good news is, I have been chipping away (sometimes literally!) at this mess and have it almost under control. My kitchen will be clean once more by the end of the day today! At least that's what I'm hoping for- we have a dishwasher, but most of what I have to clean is either too big to fit or has to be hand washed, like my non-stick pans and bakeware. I have decided to let them air-dry so I can get some much needed sewing and writing done....

...Like this blog!

I was watching snippets from Will Smith, and he said something that really clicked with me, especially since I can get very overwhelmed concerning big projects. He said (and no, I'm not quoting) that his father came to him and his brother when they were young boys and wanted them to build a wall. They were daunted by the task, but he told them that all they had to do was build one brick at a time, and make that brick the best laid brick you could lay. It took them over a year I believe, but they did complete that wall!

My problem was I was focusing on the entire kitchen, when I should have focused on a single dish. Not even a sinkful of dishes- just do one dish at a time and you can get to where you want to be- with work. I need to write that man a letter!

My kitchen will no longer be the devil's playground- he might try to mess it up, but the next time he shows up with his bat, I plan on God helping me snap that sucker in half- and sending the devil home with it!

Hmmm....Once the kitchen is finished, I wonder what God wants me to chip at next?

Slow and Steady Wins the Race!

2010-08-17T06:27:00.000-07:00

You might recall in March that I declared war on clutter. Honestly it was more of a fistfight, but my intentions were to declutter the house that month and never have to do so again. Hah!

I am a borderline hoarder, and what I originally thought was decluttered, wasn't. In fact, everything was still a mess! Just a neater one.

Remember the tale of the tortoise and the hare? I can tell you that I am not a hare (perhaps a little hare-brained, but definitely not the fast-paced creature in the story), but more of a plodding-along reptile that can never seem to gather any real speed when it comes to things that don't interest me- like cleaning.

Now it's the middle of August, and I'm still working. My house is not a simple one-month project like I'd originally thought. But I do have some good news!

Thanks to the help of my kids (yes, I taught them help clean too), my arch nemesis, the kitchen, has been completely transformed into something I'm happy to cook in! Straightening up simply wasn't working. The reason? There was just too much stuff to work with!

I love kitchen gadgets, and collect them on a regular basis (read: collect=hoard). Things were starting to pile up, and I was quickly running out of room in my tiny kitchen. No amount of 'neatening up' would work, and I was tired of tripping over things. My family was too.

The little bit of counter space I had was cluttered too, and things began to navigate to the stove top. Not good when you're cooking almost every day! I became tired of moving things around to cook, and I wound up shifting things to the floor- then tripping over them.

Now you see why I call myself a borderline hoarder! 'Borderline' only because I decided to do something about it before it overwhelmed the entire house and turned into the next feature on that popular cable show, Hoarding.

The first things me and the kids did was remove everything off of the kitchen floor. This was no small feat, and soon the dining room bore the clutter removed from the kitchen. This was just to see how much stuff was on the floor, and how much space I had to play with in the kitchen. I had twice the space- and that wasn't including any of the removable storage I had. That was emptied too- I was not only cleaning, I was decluttering as well. All if it made a pretty impressive pile in my dining room. One I could no longer ignore and shift around.

It took a total of three days to complete the process, but it was done at long last! The local thrift shop was bestowed with appliances I had yet to use (and probably wouldn't have used in the next ten years), and the things that I use a few times a year are now in my storage spaces, the regular use items are sitting on my shelves within eyesight, and the clutter is completely off the floor. The only things there now are my trash can, a big bag of potatoes, and a serving tray we use for snacks for the kids when we have a movie night. The floor was swept, scrubbed, and mopped until it shone. It still amazes me just how nice this kitchen that I used to hate turned out.

The clutter on the counters (that didn't go to the thrift store) were stored as well, and that left enough room to prepare a meal. Oh, I could do meal prep before, but now I had enough elbow room that I didn't knock anything over!

I celebrated by cooking a huge pot of soup- large enough so I don't have to cook for at least another day or two, just so I can finish clearing out and cleaning the rest of the first floor.

I went to bed exhausted each night, but greatly satisfied that we were finally making an impact. I never realized just how much it bothered me to come downstairs to a messy house. I smile when coming downstairs now, and not tripping over stuff feels really good!

Though things are still coming along slowly, they are coming along- at a nice steady pace. And that, my friends, really does win the race in the end!

Summer, Schools, and Still Sane!

2010-08-05T11:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, so maybe not-so-sane, only because I just finished my back-to-school shopping. Egad, I think I spent as much as the government spends on solid gold back scratchers!

But I digress. Sort of.

Picking up where I last left off in my last post, The quilt is coming along nicely! I hope to get a picture in the Ruby for Women blog, and possibly more in the issue itself. I thought there might be a little too much color in this quilt, but I was very pleasantly surprised!

Unfortunately, the 'almost finished' baby quilt is still in that particular phase, and will remain so until I get a few more obligations done. Then those baby UFO's (UnFinished Objects) will be dealt with and sent to someone other than their maker (insert evil chuckle here).

As for the cookies for the bride, once I told her that a 'small' group of 200 guests means at least 1000 cookies- something I had no time to bake. She gave it some thought and realized that some of her guests were diabetic. She also has a few more baking volunteers, so we will only be doing one large batch of monster cookies (about 20 dozen). She decided that there will be cracker and cheese trays for those who can't have sugar. Whew!

Summer has been zipping by faster than a woman driving to a 90% off sale, and I had to kick those messy gnomes out of my house. With a group effort (me and the kids, not the gnomes), we managed to get part of the house looking decent- just don't walk past the dining room. The kitchen was invaded by gnome ninjas during their weapons drill, and I'm still trying to clean up the mess. Darn gnomes!

Of course, as you all know when you houseclean and declutter, the moment you finish, you get inundated with more stuff. Like school supplies. Mountains of them. And guess who has to pay for it? Certainly not the ninja gnomes in my kitchen!

It still surprises me every year just how much these supplies cost. Some of the things on the list seem silly to me, like a calculator- and not just any calculator- a certain brand and model! Why aren't they learning to do math in their heads like we did? And why do they have this thing called 'the new math'? Wasn't the old math good enough? When my child needed help with math last year, I told him to call his teacher- I think she was the only adult that understood the darn stuff!

I can't imagine what will happen in sixth grade- some of the stuff he was learning last year were subjects I didn't get until high school! Like algebra, for instance. What fifth grader can use algebra over the summer? Unless he was trying to calculate just how many gallons of water filled the public pool, I just don't see the logic in it. But maybe that's just me.

And they say it's the kids who have homework. Hah!

In the meantime, I'll spend my time sewing, cleaning, and swimming with my kids in the public pool (after he calculates the water used) until summer ends and the homework begins. Maybe if I still have the ninja gnomes, I can get rid of them by making them help with homework! I can see the note to his teacher now...

Dear Teacher,
If there are any errors in my son's homework, it is because the ninja gnomes simply didn't commit to the task and ran screaming from the house. Please excuse my son from homework for the rest of his life, to spare his parents from going to the loony bin in purple polka dot straitjackets, mumbling gibberish about algebra and the new math.

Sincerely Yours,
A Desperate Parent

Yes...I think that would work! Don't you?

Now I have to go sort all these supplies out before the kids get their mitts on them. Have a blessed day and enjoy the rest of the summer while you can!

Time Flies When You're Busy!

2010-07-03T13:53:00.000-07:00

Gosh, has it been two months already? I have a reason for being so late, Dear Readers, really I do! Lots of stuff has been happening, and all of it good!

Exhausting, but good!

After the cleaning spree I soon ventured back into the world of sewing- once I could make a path through all the stuff I had piled there from cleaning the rest of the house. I'm really beginning to think gnomes have invaded my house, and brought their stuff with them to use as rent!

Yet it looks like all my stuff. Strange, isn't it?

Well, I found two baby quilts I was supposed to finish and so far I have one almost done. I would have had both finished by now, but I was seriously sidetracked by life in general.

My son has Aspbergers and just graduated elementary school, so I had to find a middle school that had autism support in place, because the school he was slotted for didn't have such a program. So I spent most of June searching for the perfect school for him. And yes, I found one! YAY!

I had also volunteered to be head cook at our church's Youth In Action Camp that started the week after school ended, cooking for all of the counselors. Forty of them. Three meals a day.

I survived!

I survived with a smile on my face, and forty very hungry counselors were sated. I was even given a round of applause at the end of the week for my efforts!

But was that all Ladies and Gentlemen? No! I was also asked to help out for lunches during the second week, because the head cook that week was lacking in helpers. So I was quite the busy bee- and I loved every minute of it!

Then we were invited to a wedding, and I know the young bride well enough to make her a lap quilt. She's one of those special people that understands and appreciates the art, so I will work my hind off getting it done for her in time.

She is getting married in August.

There is a reprieve though- I was told she's having an 'official' reception two weeks after the wedding, and I was told I could wait until then to gift my quilt, because the bride wants to show it off to everyone. I asked why she wasn't having a reception the same day as the wedding, and she said she was- but it was just for the small group of wedding guests only, because of lack of funds. She was going to have a cookie reception the day of the wedding. I had never heard of that, and thought it was a fantastic idea! Then I wound up opening my big mouth and asked her who was going to make the cookies.

I forgot that she knew my husband and I are home bakers. So guess who is making the cookies for her guests? I even offered to make her a giant 14" chocolate chip cookie as a centerpiece. I'm wondering if I should become a professional caterer at this point. I seem to enjoy feeding the masses!

I also have a few other sewing projects slotted for customers, as well as little side jobs such as mending and replacing buttons on clothes. Not to mention I am writing for Ruby too!

So now you know what I've been up to! You'd think I'd lose weight doing all this, but I haven't had a chance to weigh myself. The last scale I owned had a serious defect- especially after it accidentally flew out of my bathroom window.

So we'll just say I lost weight and leave it at that!

The kids are finished camp now, and I will be spending a lot of time with them too- but I hope I'll have time do finish all this work before the summer is over! If I do, it was all God's doing for slowing down time for me!

Footprints is MOVING!

2010-04-30T08:47:00.000-07:00

After having long and fruitful conversations with my editor Nina, Footprints in the Mud will now have a new home- in Ruby for Women's new blog! I will be posting other thing as well, like hints and tips for crafts, home, and kids, as well as articles and blurbs to entertain and inform. I do apologize for the lapse in posts as of late, but this was too big not to be a part of! Hope to see you ate the new blog!

Here's the link:

http://rubyforwomen.com/

Have a fantastic day, Dear Readers!

Just a Note...

2010-04-09T08:23:00.000-07:00

Due to some potential changes (good ones!), Footprints on Facebook will not be running this week. I hope to bring something wonderful to you soon, but these things take time. So sit back, relax and finish off your chocolate bunnies and jellybeans (you know, the ones you snuck out of the kid's baskets when they weren't looking!)- it won't be too long before Footprints returns!

Thank you so much for visiting- it is very much appreciated!

Fried Brains, Anyone?

2010-03-26T14:25:00.000-07:00

I used to have a fairly decent brain. It worked well in 'the olden days' (back in 2009), but I think I've overused it. It's now looking like a shriveled raisin, with the memory capacity of an Atari 64 processor.

It must be all the latest changes.

Not only am I trying to do the mom thing, the wife thing, the weight loss/healthy eating thing, the writing thing, the sewing thing and the house care specialist thing (I like the sound of that much better than saying the housework thing!). There are a few other 'things' I could mention, but I risk an overload if I do- besides, I've already forgotten them!

And now comes the worst part- the scheduling thing.

Don't get me wrong- I actually like making schedules- I'm just no good at keeping them. At least until now.

A little advice here from one who knows- When making a schedule for yourself, it tends to be much harder than doing so for someone else. Why? Because, as humans, we tend to overrate ourselves personally. We just know we can do so much more than Ole whats-her-face in the next room. So we overschedule, and wind up with fried brains and a worn out body that's crying out for chocolate.

You need to sleep, you need breaks, and you also need a good healthy dose of perspective. You have to know what you're truly capable of; if anything you should be underestimating yourself when it comes to making a good schedule!

One thing I've learned through the years is to have a little breathing room penciled in on the list. That way if you're running a little late in one area, you're not up to your armpits in unfinished tasks by the end of the day. Ask me how I know.

You also have to have a sense of proportion as well- sometimes I just can't do all I want to do that day. I might have to reschedule it, or I might just have my husband or the kids chip in to help. Both ideas work well, and I still get my goal accomplished sooner or later.

Patience is indeed a virtue, and not something I possess in massive amounts. But it's a muscle I've had to stretch and strengthen a great deal as of late just so I can remain sane. Why? Because sometimes things happen that get in the way and capsize even the most organized of schedules.

Like the kids getting half days. Or Easter break. Or my husband has to work late. None of this stuff fits into my regularly scheduled program, and my brain turns into the Emergency Broadcast System, flat-lining with that dull monotone signal that says "Sorry, my brain is not here right now, but if you leave a message, I might get back to you- if it decides to come back. This is not a drill."

Being patient and flexible has saved my scheduling (and my sanity!) many times. Especially around the holidays.

For me, I have blocks of scheduled time I use to get things done, and in between those blocks are the 'flexibility minutes' that help keep me on track. Those minutes are spent walking the kids to school, doing errands, or having a little computer time to myself.

Don't forget to also allow some time to relax. And time to get used to the new schedule.

One of my very bad habits is that I do something for a week, decide it isn't for me, and let it go. You have to think of it like getting on a treadmill for the first time. You're using muscles you rarely (if ever) used before, and it will take more than a week of you doing it to see if it's a good fit for your day. I suggest you try making out a schedule and doing it for a month- write down things you might want to tweak a bit, but stick to it as much as possible. After the month is up, redo it if you need to and have another go. Pretty soon you'll find yourself much more productive- and a lot happier!

This week has been a hard one, but I know it'll get easier as I go. I'll refresh my poor little raisin brain over the weekend, and do it all over next week.

So...who's with me?

Remember that you're not doing this just for you, you're doing this for your family and most of all, God. And if you start getting a raisin brain, just take a deep breath, and thank God for chocolate in all it's glorious forms!

Conquering Clutter!

2010-03-19T07:59:00.000-07:00

It always happens in spring- the air becomes warm, and you want to open your windows- but you can't, because all kinds of miscellaneous stuff is stored against them. Great for insulation, but not good when you want to rid your home of Houseitosis- the homemaker's version of bad breath.

So you take the stuff off of the window sills (the cats helped me remove my plants by knocking most of them off) and place all that stuff somewhere else- any flat space will do. But then you realize there aren't anymore flat spaces. You have now run out of spots to store things!

I'm a packrat by nature, but when things get a bit too much, I do have the will power to remove what's bothering me. It isn't easy, but it can be done!

Trust me on this- you are talking to a woman that used to have over sixty boxes of crafting supplies that travelled with her through three moves. And a lot of it was still brand new in the package!

The first decluttering took me nearly two years to complete, from the attic to the basement. Now we do an annual cleanout, just so my hubby and I are sure I don't collect and store anymore treasures. You would be amazed at just how much one woman can accumulate and promptly forget about!

One trick I used to use was the Transfer Method- scooping everything up and putting it somewhere else, just to make the one area look good- at least for a little while. But then something else would come up, and I would have to tidy another area, and back the stuff went- along with other clutter from the other spot. After a while that became really annoying, and I finally realized that it's time to get rid of some things.

And that can be a really scary thought!

I also have another character flaw- I get overwhelmed rather easily. And just thinking about going through all that stuff makes me want to crawl in a hole somewhere and hide. But I can't, since I stored some other stuff in that hole from the living room a few months ago. With nowhere to hide, I took out one of my 18-gallon tote containers (which was surprisingly empty!), and started loading it up with the clutter that littered my desk.

My goal was to empty at least one spot of clutter (or until the tote was full), and go through it when I watch TV. Time passes much faster when you do this, and it doesn't seem like such a hassle because you're distracted. Most of the stuff I saved wound up in the recycle bin, and by the time I had emptied the tote, I had very little to organize. Then I sorted everything and put it away before starting the next spot.

Dump, sort, repeat. Your place will start looking better almost immediately, and most of it will probably be going to the recycling plant or the thrift store. 'Going Green' feels good!

If you get overwhelmed like me, start small- one shelf, your desktop, a kitchen counter...whatever it is, just start small. It won't be long before you can walk into a room and smile in stead of groan!

I'm happy to say I can now open most of my windows, and the fresh air feels and smells wonderful! But don't worry, I promise I won't let all this cleaning go to my head- No being a perfectionist, like dusting the cats, for instance. Just keep things neat enough that I can smile when I walk into the room.

And you can too!

Ready...Set...FIGHT!

2010-03-12T08:43:00.000-08:00

I've noticed two things that will happen every time you have two beings in the same house- One, they will play together, and two, they will fight together. I have two cats and two kids- there is never a dull moment!

The kids come home from school, tired, hungry, and brain-worn. "Mooooom, I need a snaaaaaack!" they whine in tones that grate on the nerves like a kid who chews with his mouth wide open.
Then I do something entirely foolish- I suggest a healthy snack. This usually gets a groan from my vegephobic son, and a squeal of delight from my daughter, whom I have to shoo out of the kitchen as I prepare dinner, otherwise I won't have a single sliver of celery left on the counter.
My son always suggests candy, stating he needs the sugar boost to counteract the coma-inducing boredom of the school day. I'm ashamed to admit this, but sometimes I give in just so I don't get a twenty minute speech about the health benefits of sugar. Instead I resolve to keep him from watching the Food Science channel and let him have a few pieces of candy.

I can start to see the undercurrents of a potential scuffle the moment they walk into the kitchen. One gets ahead of the other, and yells of 'I was here First!" resound against the kitchen walls, making them vibrate. "No you weren't, I was!" Is the usual reply, in the dulcet tones of a freight train horn, with just enough of that whinyness in it to make my teeth grind. Yet this isn't enough to get me out of my chair...yet.

Even the cats start chasing each other with their tails fluffed to their fullest, swatting and hissing. I was the only one without someone to fight with, but my husband was coming home any minute now, so I could join in when he came home, if I really wanted to.

Now they argued over the bench in the kitchen. Apparently one had dibs on it several days ago, and took this choice bit of seating without written consent of the other. It didn't matter that we had a second bench on the opposite side of the table- there could have been twenty benches- they would still be fighting over the same bench. Being the good mom that I am, I resisted swatting them both and remained in my seat, determined to let them try to work things out.

At least until I hear the sound of smacking.

Now I go into action. They both hear me stomping in through the doorway and freeze- even the cats stopped fighting- and four sets of eyes were looking at me like spooked deer. I was surprised to see the smacking sounds were not from my son, but from his younger sister, who was holding her own, fighting for her place on the bench that he was currently attempting to shove her from. The cats, seeing I was not going to take anymore stuff from anyone, took the hint and got scarce and ran for cover.

The kids were not as astute.

My son (who should be a lawyer one day) began a heated and heartfelt speech about the unfairness of life and school, so he should have the desired seat. My daughter (not having read law texts that her brother must have had stashed in his messy room somewhere), was less tactful. He was just a Big Meanie, and was trying to throw her out of 'her' seat.

Did you know lion's roars can be heard over miles of savanna? That's nothing compared to a mom who's fed up with her kids. I think even the lions heard me that day!

Within minutes I had them seated with snacks and homework in front of them, the cherished seat now supporting my butt- not theirs. Potent 'Mom Glares' regarded anyone who even remotely lifted their head from their homework, daring them to speak a word and face my wrath again.

When I felt they had been sufficiently subdued, I went into the kitchen to make dinner. But the moment I was out of eyesight, they started again. And that's when my husband came home.

I ran to my groom, very happy to see him, and gave him the lowdown of what happened in the past hour. His lips firmed and he gave me a slight nod, his gaze looking towards the kitchen, the sounds of arguments and debate still making the shelves tremble.

The best part was, they were so loud, they never knew he came home. I could barely contain my grin when I saw my darling husband walking towards the kitchen, giving me a wink just before entering.

It took 2.3 seconds for them to realize it wasn't Mom in the doorway. Time stopped, and there was no movement, no sound. I could hear their little hearts beating rapidly under their school clothes from the other room. You might be able to argue with Mom, but don't even think of trying to get out of something when Dad's home! I covered my grin with my hand, trying to look casually aloof as I passed by them and into the kitchen to finish dinner.

It was a wonderfully quiet dinner- even the cats were now getting along- and after dinner, everyone did their chores almost happily, and we even had enough time to play a few card games.

Both of us are firm and loving parents, but I always tend to let them go a little too far before I step in. I'll work on that, but in the meantime, I've asked my spouse if he wouldn't mind staying home for the next week or two! Can you blame me?

Settling In

2010-03-05T04:56:00.000-08:00

Our kitties have acclimated themselves quite well, and we've decided to keep them. Though my poor plants would definitely veto the decision, if they could speak. The cats are training us well, and I have now cleared a spot for them to sit in the window. Oh sure, we have a perfectly good plantless window by the couch, but they want to be where I had my plants. It's just a cat thing that I have to get used to.

I'm also settling in on a new routine that has nothing to do with cats. 'Cleaning' is a bad word around here as far as I'm concerned, but unfortunately, a necessary evil. I used to be an 'all or nothing' cleaner, but then I shifted into a 'forget the all- I'd rather do nothing' mode that wasn't benefiting anyone. It's frustrating being a mom with a family that messes things up the moment you're done cleaning. Just think about how unfair that is! You spend an hour cleaning, and it takes less than five seconds for the husband and kids to mess it all up. Yet the mess they made takes another half hour to straighten up.

I really think I need to talk to those Star Trek people about the cleaning space-time continuum...something is out of whack here!

And why is it that a freshly mopped floor takes hours to dry, but a dropped ice cube takes 2.3 seconds to melt, making a puddle the size of a small state? I'm telling you, the planet is completely off-balance.

Dish soap can take the nastiest stuff off of my fry pans, but let a drop of dish soap dry on the countertop, and you can't get it off with a blow-torch. Please don't ask me how I know that. This also holds true for raw eggs and oil spatters, for which the only way to remove them is to simply buy a new house and move.

Then there's the dark realm under the stovetop itself. Oil and other things have fallen through the holes and made a right mess of things. The heat has turned the oil into a smooth rubbery polymer, and even a chisel won't remove the worst of it. It's also fireproof (I assume from all the tempering from using the stovetop and the oven on a regular basis), so putting a flame to it is useless as antlers on a turtle.

Many of these things I have completely given up on, especially if it's out of eyesight. But I swear to you that I've adjusted (and readjusted) my cleaning schedule and found that I don't need to have an all-or-nothing approach anymore. If I get one desk clean or manage to straighten a shelf, I have accomplished a lot more than if I just sat there staring at it and lamenting about the mess.

And it looks nicer too.

So my new approach to cleaning (and life in general) is the same as praying- do it throughout the day, every day. Bit by bit, you can get a lot accomplished! Do a chore (and maybe stick a little prayer for a friend in there somewhere), write a little, do another chore, go through e-mail, do another chore, and pretty soon the house is starting to look good, and you feel a lot less stressed by the lack of mess about you.

And frankly, that makes my family (and my new kitties), very happy!