When you walk into a room, do you close the shades and pull the curtains together? Or do you flip open the blinds, crank the windows, and let the light shine in?
You guessed it, I’m a drape opener. I’d rather have the light. Heck, I don’t even close the drapes at night. I really don’t care if people spy on me. If they don’t have anything better to do, I say let them watch! Some people need to get a life, and I’m really not concerned it they watch mine.
Ok, I realize there are two sides to everything. (I happen to be married to a drape closer who won’t even let me post pictures of him on the blog!)
Drape closers tend to be more private. Lots of them don’t blog. It’s nobody’s business what they eat for dinner or watch on T.V. And drape closers remind us that there are weirdoes out there. Why make some psycho's life easier by keeping the drapes open? And drape closers further remind us that we need to teach our kids some modesty and protect them by closing the curtains and pulling the blinds.
Maybe drape closers have some good points. But overall, I still think closed blinds are overrated. What do you think?
Are you a drape opener or a drape closer? Is there room for anything in between?
Friday, February 26, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Kids And Faith – The Role Of Parents
Kids are smarter than we think. When parents say one thing and do another, kids notice.
I firmly believe that many kids who “quit church” notice when there is little spiritual vitality in their own parents. And the research backs me up. According to a 2007 survey by the Barna Group, parents must have an authentic and vibrant faith to provide meaningful spiritual guidance to their children.
In other words, the old saying, Do what I say and not what I do, isn’t going to cut it. If we really want our kids to have a vital faith, we need to model it as parents. Like so many other things in life, it starts at home.
Mothers like me who work outside the home arguably have less direct control over our children. This lack of control makes it even more challenging to model a vibrant faith and ensure that our children obtain spiritual guidance when we’re not around. This can lead to some basic fears and insecurities. Will my children turn out okay? How can I make sure I tend to their spiritual development? And can I really trust God to take care of them, even when I’m not there?
No, I don’t have all the answers. But I do know that my kids are watching my every move. Thank God that authenticity doesn’t demand perfection. And thank God that grace surpasses my own efforts every time.
For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. Ephesians 2:8-9
I firmly believe that many kids who “quit church” notice when there is little spiritual vitality in their own parents. And the research backs me up. According to a 2007 survey by the Barna Group, parents must have an authentic and vibrant faith to provide meaningful spiritual guidance to their children.
In other words, the old saying, Do what I say and not what I do, isn’t going to cut it. If we really want our kids to have a vital faith, we need to model it as parents. Like so many other things in life, it starts at home.
Mothers like me who work outside the home arguably have less direct control over our children. This lack of control makes it even more challenging to model a vibrant faith and ensure that our children obtain spiritual guidance when we’re not around. This can lead to some basic fears and insecurities. Will my children turn out okay? How can I make sure I tend to their spiritual development? And can I really trust God to take care of them, even when I’m not there?
No, I don’t have all the answers. But I do know that my kids are watching my every move. Thank God that authenticity doesn’t demand perfection. And thank God that grace surpasses my own efforts every time.
For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. Ephesians 2:8-9
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
When Nobody’s Watching
I love to watch people. Especially when they think no one is watching.
Every morning, I drop Nick and Anna off at school, and sometimes I watch the other parents. I’m one of those moms that sits in a line of cars until we reach the “drop off.” It’s pretty handy, because I don’t have to get out of the car, and the kids only have to walk about 20 feet to the school entrance where parent volunteers greet them as I drive away and blow a few kisses.
There’s one father I’ve been watching as I wait in line. Every morning – even in the freezing cold weather – he parks his car and walks his two girls to the school entrance. Every morning, he holds their hands until they reach the door. Every morning, he bends down and kisses them and says a few parting words. He’s never rushing around or running late, and he escorts his girls to school like it’s the most important moment in his day – like he’s a prince escorting two princesses to the royal ball.
He doesn’t know I’m watching. I thought about stopping him and saying, “Hey, I’ve been watching you, and I think it’s really sweet the way you walk your girls to the door and say goodbye to them every morning.” But I decided I would probably embarrass him. Or worse, he’d think I was a stalker. So I decided to write about him instead.
I wonder what people think about me when I don’t know they’re watching, especially when I'm with my kids. Am I a crazed woman who is rushing around, running late, and about to become unglued? Or, am I calm, patient, and inviting?
Who are you when nobody’s watching?
Every morning, I drop Nick and Anna off at school, and sometimes I watch the other parents. I’m one of those moms that sits in a line of cars until we reach the “drop off.” It’s pretty handy, because I don’t have to get out of the car, and the kids only have to walk about 20 feet to the school entrance where parent volunteers greet them as I drive away and blow a few kisses.
There’s one father I’ve been watching as I wait in line. Every morning – even in the freezing cold weather – he parks his car and walks his two girls to the school entrance. Every morning, he holds their hands until they reach the door. Every morning, he bends down and kisses them and says a few parting words. He’s never rushing around or running late, and he escorts his girls to school like it’s the most important moment in his day – like he’s a prince escorting two princesses to the royal ball.
He doesn’t know I’m watching. I thought about stopping him and saying, “Hey, I’ve been watching you, and I think it’s really sweet the way you walk your girls to the door and say goodbye to them every morning.” But I decided I would probably embarrass him. Or worse, he’d think I was a stalker. So I decided to write about him instead.
I wonder what people think about me when I don’t know they’re watching, especially when I'm with my kids. Am I a crazed woman who is rushing around, running late, and about to become unglued? Or, am I calm, patient, and inviting?
Who are you when nobody’s watching?
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Mother’s Journal Or Blog?
Some of you have asked me, doesn’t blogging tend to replace writing in my kids’ journals? After all, I’m recording a lot of memories right here. Why do I still need to journal?
Here’s my answer. I probably do write less in the kids’ journals since I wrote Chasing Superwoman and started a blog. But their journals still serve a different, important purpose. The journals are my private notes to my kids. Yes, there are even some things that I would not put on a blog.
There are certain things I want to say to my kids without an audience. Like when I’m proud of a new accomplishment, I know they’ve had their feelings hurt, or we’ve discovered something special together. These are the kind of things I write in their journals – our special secrets.
So, even though I may not journal as much as I used to, I intend to keep the kids’ journals in full swing. For those of you who haven’t written a journal to your kids, give it some thought. What could be better than to record those private memories?
(For a discussion about starting a journal, see Keeping The Memories.)
Here’s my answer. I probably do write less in the kids’ journals since I wrote Chasing Superwoman and started a blog. But their journals still serve a different, important purpose. The journals are my private notes to my kids. Yes, there are even some things that I would not put on a blog.
There are certain things I want to say to my kids without an audience. Like when I’m proud of a new accomplishment, I know they’ve had their feelings hurt, or we’ve discovered something special together. These are the kind of things I write in their journals – our special secrets.
So, even though I may not journal as much as I used to, I intend to keep the kids’ journals in full swing. For those of you who haven’t written a journal to your kids, give it some thought. What could be better than to record those private memories?
(For a discussion about starting a journal, see Keeping The Memories.)
Monday, February 22, 2010
When Kids Pray
I’m convinced that God loves to answer the prayers of children. Sometimes, when my kids pray, I’m reminded that God really does care about the little things in life.
Just yesterday, I promised my kids we would celebrate the first Sunday of Lent by going to see a play – The Boxcar Children – at our local children’s theater.
I realize this doesn’t sound very exciting to most of you, but you must understand that we absolutely love the Boxcar series. I stopped counting after Nick read book #70, and he even re-read the first book right before the play and brought it with him for “reference.” He even read it out loud to us in the car as we drove to the show.
Which is why we were more than devastated when we walked up to the ticket booth, only to read a sign that said SOLD OUT! In fact, the show had been sold out for weeks. Like usual, I should have planned ahead. And, worse yet, it was the very last day of the show and the very last performance.
Can’t we just wait and see if there are extra tickets, I asked the lady in the ticket booth. Can’t we stand in the back? We can even wait until after the show starts and buy any empty seats.
The tickets were already sold. She couldn’t double charge for the same tickets. And we couldn’t take someone else’s seats that were already pre-paid – what if they came late to the show? No. I’m so sorry. I just can’t. You need to call ahead next time.
The kids and I sat down on a nearby bench, dumbfounded. Nick kept asking if we could go to the next show, and I kept telling him there was no next show, but he wasn’t hearing me. Anna started sulking, and Abby started asking why everyone walking into the show had tickets -- everyone but us.
I was ready to give up. Then we decided to pray. Dear God, we know that you can still get us tickets. We still want to see the show.
We watched another family walk up to the booth with the same luck. More disappointed faces. I heard the grandmother even claim that she had tried to call ahead, and then she got into an argument with the ticket lady. No tickets.
We didn’t move from our bench. We waited. And just as the show started, the ticket lady approached us and said, I can give you three tickets – the little one will have to sit on a lap.
I’ll never forget the look on Nick’s face. It wasn’t just the face of a kid who was excited to see a play – it was the face of a kid who saw firsthand that God answers prayer.
The prayers of children are powerful. I often think the floodgates of heaven might just open if some of us started approaching God with childlike faith.
Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14
Just yesterday, I promised my kids we would celebrate the first Sunday of Lent by going to see a play – The Boxcar Children – at our local children’s theater.
I realize this doesn’t sound very exciting to most of you, but you must understand that we absolutely love the Boxcar series. I stopped counting after Nick read book #70, and he even re-read the first book right before the play and brought it with him for “reference.” He even read it out loud to us in the car as we drove to the show.
Which is why we were more than devastated when we walked up to the ticket booth, only to read a sign that said SOLD OUT! In fact, the show had been sold out for weeks. Like usual, I should have planned ahead. And, worse yet, it was the very last day of the show and the very last performance.
Can’t we just wait and see if there are extra tickets, I asked the lady in the ticket booth. Can’t we stand in the back? We can even wait until after the show starts and buy any empty seats.
The tickets were already sold. She couldn’t double charge for the same tickets. And we couldn’t take someone else’s seats that were already pre-paid – what if they came late to the show? No. I’m so sorry. I just can’t. You need to call ahead next time.
The kids and I sat down on a nearby bench, dumbfounded. Nick kept asking if we could go to the next show, and I kept telling him there was no next show, but he wasn’t hearing me. Anna started sulking, and Abby started asking why everyone walking into the show had tickets -- everyone but us.
I was ready to give up. Then we decided to pray. Dear God, we know that you can still get us tickets. We still want to see the show.
We watched another family walk up to the booth with the same luck. More disappointed faces. I heard the grandmother even claim that she had tried to call ahead, and then she got into an argument with the ticket lady. No tickets.
We didn’t move from our bench. We waited. And just as the show started, the ticket lady approached us and said, I can give you three tickets – the little one will have to sit on a lap.
I’ll never forget the look on Nick’s face. It wasn’t just the face of a kid who was excited to see a play – it was the face of a kid who saw firsthand that God answers prayer.
The prayers of children are powerful. I often think the floodgates of heaven might just open if some of us started approaching God with childlike faith.
Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14
Friday, February 19, 2010
When You’re Invited, Show Up!
Half of life is showing up. Even when you don’t feel like it. Even when you’re in a bad mood. Even when you feel like staying home. I’m always glad when I decide to show up. Especially when it’s girls’ night out.
This past Monday, I got home from work, and boy was I in a bad mood. As the only person in my household who actually had to work on President’s Day, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. Plus, the laundry wasn’t done, the house was a mess, and the kids were more difficult than usual to put to bed. And school was already cancelled for Tuesday because of another snow storm.
When 9:00 p.m. rolled around, the last thing I felt like doing was going out. Then the phone ran. I had almost forgotten – it was girls’ night out, and my neighbors on Henthorn Road were gathering across the street. They started leaving me messages on the answering machine.
Susan, where are you? We’re all waiting for you to get here.
At first, I ignored the messages. Then the phone rang again.
Doug was starting to get annoyed. Why do they keep calling? Don’t they know you have young kids in bed?
I took one look at him, put my snow boots on, and headed out the front door. Who cares if I had a bad day. It was time to have some fun!
First, you have to understand my neighbors. (Little did I know when I moved in for the schools and property values that I would be joining the rowdiest bunch of women in town!) We’re of all ages and stages. Single. Divorced. Married. Widowed. Mothers. Grandmothers. Empty nesters. Empty nesters with children reinvading the nest.
But we have one thing in common – a zany spirit of friendship and fierce loyalty to one another.
What happens on Henthorn Road stays on Henthorn Road. Yes, we’re known to play the music a little loud. Yes, our dancing and singing is known to disturb the peace. Yes, we’re known to stay out a little late, even on a Monday night. Yes, we’re even known to tackle each other in the snow when a friend tries to leave the party early.
When I finally got home Monday night, I was in a really good mood. I knew I had to get up early for work the next morning, but I didn’t care. Girls’ night out was just what I needed.
The lesson for today is, when you’re invited, show up. Even when you don’t feel like it.
Some of you need to get out this weekend!
This past Monday, I got home from work, and boy was I in a bad mood. As the only person in my household who actually had to work on President’s Day, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. Plus, the laundry wasn’t done, the house was a mess, and the kids were more difficult than usual to put to bed. And school was already cancelled for Tuesday because of another snow storm.
When 9:00 p.m. rolled around, the last thing I felt like doing was going out. Then the phone ran. I had almost forgotten – it was girls’ night out, and my neighbors on Henthorn Road were gathering across the street. They started leaving me messages on the answering machine.
Susan, where are you? We’re all waiting for you to get here.
At first, I ignored the messages. Then the phone rang again.
Doug was starting to get annoyed. Why do they keep calling? Don’t they know you have young kids in bed?
I took one look at him, put my snow boots on, and headed out the front door. Who cares if I had a bad day. It was time to have some fun!
First, you have to understand my neighbors. (Little did I know when I moved in for the schools and property values that I would be joining the rowdiest bunch of women in town!) We’re of all ages and stages. Single. Divorced. Married. Widowed. Mothers. Grandmothers. Empty nesters. Empty nesters with children reinvading the nest.
But we have one thing in common – a zany spirit of friendship and fierce loyalty to one another.
What happens on Henthorn Road stays on Henthorn Road. Yes, we’re known to play the music a little loud. Yes, our dancing and singing is known to disturb the peace. Yes, we’re known to stay out a little late, even on a Monday night. Yes, we’re even known to tackle each other in the snow when a friend tries to leave the party early.
When I finally got home Monday night, I was in a really good mood. I knew I had to get up early for work the next morning, but I didn’t care. Girls’ night out was just what I needed.
The lesson for today is, when you’re invited, show up. Even when you don’t feel like it.
Some of you need to get out this weekend!
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Coffee Or Jesus?
I decided to give up coffee for Lent. For an addict like me, it’s going to be an arduous journey. I know, if I was really doing this right, I wouldn’t publish my fast on a blog.
And when you fast, don't make it obvious, as the hypocrites do, for they try to look miserable and disheveled so people will admire them for their fasting. I tell you the truth, that is the only reward they will ever get. Matthew 6:16
I’m really not looking for reward or admiration. So, at the risk of being in good company with the hypocrites, I’m going to need some accountability from my fellow bloggers.
Yesterday was Ash Wednesday. Although I didn’t grow up in the Liturgical Church, there’s something pretty special about observing the traditional calendar this time of year. After we took the kids to church last night, we talked about how we’ll all mortal beings – from ashes to ashes.
No, I don’t believe you have to give up something for Lent or even observe Ash Wednesday to earn points with God. And I don’t believe I have to decide between coffee and Jesus. In fact, I haven’t given anything up for Lent in years. I was one of those people who always thought the rituals of Lent were pretty silly. After all, God isn’t impressed by seasonal celebrations when what he really wants is a love relationship 365 days a year, right?
I still believe that’s true. But, truth be told, some of us need reminders along the way. For me, going without coffee is a pretty good reminder that I need to pray, clear my head (once the caffeine headache clears), and prepare to celebrate my risen Lord.
So whether you observe Lent or not, I hope you’ll join me in celebrating the Easter season this year (and please don’t offer me any coffee – especially not a latte with dark chocolate).
And when you fast, don't make it obvious, as the hypocrites do, for they try to look miserable and disheveled so people will admire them for their fasting. I tell you the truth, that is the only reward they will ever get. Matthew 6:16
I’m really not looking for reward or admiration. So, at the risk of being in good company with the hypocrites, I’m going to need some accountability from my fellow bloggers.
Yesterday was Ash Wednesday. Although I didn’t grow up in the Liturgical Church, there’s something pretty special about observing the traditional calendar this time of year. After we took the kids to church last night, we talked about how we’ll all mortal beings – from ashes to ashes.
No, I don’t believe you have to give up something for Lent or even observe Ash Wednesday to earn points with God. And I don’t believe I have to decide between coffee and Jesus. In fact, I haven’t given anything up for Lent in years. I was one of those people who always thought the rituals of Lent were pretty silly. After all, God isn’t impressed by seasonal celebrations when what he really wants is a love relationship 365 days a year, right?
I still believe that’s true. But, truth be told, some of us need reminders along the way. For me, going without coffee is a pretty good reminder that I need to pray, clear my head (once the caffeine headache clears), and prepare to celebrate my risen Lord.
So whether you observe Lent or not, I hope you’ll join me in celebrating the Easter season this year (and please don’t offer me any coffee – especially not a latte with dark chocolate).
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Will Our Kids Quit Church?
I love statistics. In fact, when I was getting ready to write Chasing Superwoman I thought long and hard about the current spiritual trends facing our children. For example, statistics show that young people are leaving the traditional church in droves. According to a study by George Barna, 61% of young adults who had been “churched” during their teen years are now spiritually disengaged.
Will my kids just become another statistic? And, as a mother who deeply cares about my children’s spirituality, what am I going to do about it?
To start, I’ve asked myself a few tough questions. Like, is church a place where my kids have fun and feel safe to engage in questions, even when they don’t know the answers? Or, is church a place where my kids just have to dress up and shut up?
Instead of sitting in the bleachers and blaming the church (and putting the spiritual future of my children on somebody else’s shoulders), I decided I better get in the game. So, when Nick turned three, I started teaching Sunday School. Sure, there are still Sundays where my kids don’t want to go to church – and Sundays when I don’t feel like taking them – but our goal is to worship God and HAVE FUN in the process. We usually accomplish both.
.
I have my own theories about why young people are leaving the church, and I also have more statistics I plan to share in the coming weeks. But I’d first love to hear what you think. What keeps kids in church, and what drives them away?
Will my kids just become another statistic? And, as a mother who deeply cares about my children’s spirituality, what am I going to do about it?
To start, I’ve asked myself a few tough questions. Like, is church a place where my kids have fun and feel safe to engage in questions, even when they don’t know the answers? Or, is church a place where my kids just have to dress up and shut up?
Instead of sitting in the bleachers and blaming the church (and putting the spiritual future of my children on somebody else’s shoulders), I decided I better get in the game. So, when Nick turned three, I started teaching Sunday School. Sure, there are still Sundays where my kids don’t want to go to church – and Sundays when I don’t feel like taking them – but our goal is to worship God and HAVE FUN in the process. We usually accomplish both.
.
I have my own theories about why young people are leaving the church, and I also have more statistics I plan to share in the coming weeks. But I’d first love to hear what you think. What keeps kids in church, and what drives them away?
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Pregnant, Again?
Now that I have your attention, I’m not pregnant. Well, not exactly. I’m not pregnant with child. (Doug has made it loud and clear he’s not planning on #4.)
But I am pregnant in a different sense. I’m waiting for my first book to be published. I guess you could say I’m in my last trimester of the publishing process.
This baby was conceived a long time ago. In fact, I’m done writing. At this point, I’m just waiting on a final proofread, endorsements, and then we’re off to the printer sometime in late March.
When is my due date? It’s set for June 2010. Sure, I have high hopes that everything is on schedule, that there will be no complications, and it will be a smooth delivery, but having been through childbirth a few times before, I’m prepared for just about anything.
Just like the last trimester of pregnancy, I’ll have to admit I’m really nervous. I really don’t know what to expect. What if nobody likes Chasing Superwoman? Every time I read the manuscript, I want to tweak it just a bit more, but once it’s out of the womb there’s no turning back.
For now, I just have to wait (something I’m not very good at). I can’t thank you enough for waiting with me. Have you ever been pregnant with anticipation? How do you stand the wait?
But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31
But I am pregnant in a different sense. I’m waiting for my first book to be published. I guess you could say I’m in my last trimester of the publishing process.
This baby was conceived a long time ago. In fact, I’m done writing. At this point, I’m just waiting on a final proofread, endorsements, and then we’re off to the printer sometime in late March.
When is my due date? It’s set for June 2010. Sure, I have high hopes that everything is on schedule, that there will be no complications, and it will be a smooth delivery, but having been through childbirth a few times before, I’m prepared for just about anything.
Just like the last trimester of pregnancy, I’ll have to admit I’m really nervous. I really don’t know what to expect. What if nobody likes Chasing Superwoman? Every time I read the manuscript, I want to tweak it just a bit more, but once it’s out of the womb there’s no turning back.
For now, I just have to wait (something I’m not very good at). I can’t thank you enough for waiting with me. Have you ever been pregnant with anticipation? How do you stand the wait?
But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31
Monday, February 15, 2010
Valentine's Party Post Mortem
The Third Grade Valentine's Party can be summed up in one word. CHAOS. Of course, I'd do it all over again, but I'm still glad it's over.
First, thank you so much for the tips and ideas. So many of you sent me websites, games, and craft projects to get me started. As it turns out, I stressed out over the craft for nothing. Another willing parent actually wanted to bring in the craft. Another parent donated homemade Valentine's cookies. So I was left with music and games. Delegation is a beautiful thing.
The night before, Nick and I had a blast picking out the party music and making our own Valentine's CD. Love Shack. Love Stinks. I Need A Lover That Won't Drive Me Crazy. Hot Girls In Love. I'm All Out Of Love. Ok, maybe I had more fun than Nick, but this was my chance to re-live some of the great love songs of the 80's. Maybe some of these tunes are too heavy for third graders (most of them haven't had their hearts broken yet). But they might as well learn early that love is much more than a warm fuzzy feeling. Besides, this could be my only chance to jam to Loverboy without people making fun of me.
I left work around 1:00 p.m. and blasted our new CD in the car to get me in the party mood. The plan? We'd start with musical chairs, and the kids would all march to Love Shack in a single file line. Then, we'd move on to the craft, treats, and games (including Bingo with the candy heart messages) and then we'd limbo out the door. What could go wrong?
To start, these kids were pretty juiced up and sugared up when I arrived. (Note to self: when you combine lots of sugar with loud 80's music, 24 third graders turn into wild animals.) We had to turn the classroom upside down, move desks, and jump over shoes and boots just to set up the musical chairs. The single file line turned into body slamming, and the kids who got out first had nothing to do but load up with more sugar until we finished. Then, we had to rearrange the classroom again, just to get everyone back in their seats. I looked at the clock -- fifteen minutes had passed, and I was exhausted.
All I can say is, God bless teachers. It's times like this when I'm thankful to be a lawyer. Sure, we still had a fun time putting the craft together and playing a few games, but after an hour I was completely out of steam. In the end, Nick was satisfied, which is all that mattered to me. When we got home, Anna said to me, Can you please be in charge of my Valentine's Party next year?
At least we have a whole year to plan for it. I might skip musical chairs, but I'll have the party CD ready to go. Besides, I can't think of a better way to celebrate Valentine's Day. Can you?
First, thank you so much for the tips and ideas. So many of you sent me websites, games, and craft projects to get me started. As it turns out, I stressed out over the craft for nothing. Another willing parent actually wanted to bring in the craft. Another parent donated homemade Valentine's cookies. So I was left with music and games. Delegation is a beautiful thing.
The night before, Nick and I had a blast picking out the party music and making our own Valentine's CD. Love Shack. Love Stinks. I Need A Lover That Won't Drive Me Crazy. Hot Girls In Love. I'm All Out Of Love. Ok, maybe I had more fun than Nick, but this was my chance to re-live some of the great love songs of the 80's. Maybe some of these tunes are too heavy for third graders (most of them haven't had their hearts broken yet). But they might as well learn early that love is much more than a warm fuzzy feeling. Besides, this could be my only chance to jam to Loverboy without people making fun of me.
I left work around 1:00 p.m. and blasted our new CD in the car to get me in the party mood. The plan? We'd start with musical chairs, and the kids would all march to Love Shack in a single file line. Then, we'd move on to the craft, treats, and games (including Bingo with the candy heart messages) and then we'd limbo out the door. What could go wrong?
To start, these kids were pretty juiced up and sugared up when I arrived. (Note to self: when you combine lots of sugar with loud 80's music, 24 third graders turn into wild animals.) We had to turn the classroom upside down, move desks, and jump over shoes and boots just to set up the musical chairs. The single file line turned into body slamming, and the kids who got out first had nothing to do but load up with more sugar until we finished. Then, we had to rearrange the classroom again, just to get everyone back in their seats. I looked at the clock -- fifteen minutes had passed, and I was exhausted.
All I can say is, God bless teachers. It's times like this when I'm thankful to be a lawyer. Sure, we still had a fun time putting the craft together and playing a few games, but after an hour I was completely out of steam. In the end, Nick was satisfied, which is all that mattered to me. When we got home, Anna said to me, Can you please be in charge of my Valentine's Party next year?
At least we have a whole year to plan for it. I might skip musical chairs, but I'll have the party CD ready to go. Besides, I can't think of a better way to celebrate Valentine's Day. Can you?
Friday, February 12, 2010
Being A Chocolate Snob And Loving It
There are certain things in life I don’t apologize for. One of them is being a chocolate snob. There, I said it. I love chocolate, but not just any chocolate. It has to be real, and it has to be dark.
I have been accused of being high maintenance. Nothing could be further from the truth. I have few vices. I don’t indulge in expensive hobbies, I don’t demand pricey jewelry, and I require minimal hygiene and little sleep. It doesn’t take much to make me happy. Just give me my skim latte, dry red wine, and last but not least, real dark chocolate.
This is where my brownie recipe comes in. No, I don’t use a box. If you ate my brownies, you wouldn’t either. I use real cocoa, real chocolate, and real butter. They’re so rich that even I need a glass of milk or, better yet, some vanilla ice cream.
My other favorite treat? Mocha lattes. The coffee shop in my office building just started putting real dark chocolate (not that powdery junk) in their espresso drinks. Yep, when I need that pick-me-up after lunch, it hits the spot.
So, this Valentine’s Day, I’m going to treat myself to a mocha latte, and I might even make a pan of brownies. It’s a vice, but not one I’m going to apologize for.
Any other chocolate snobs out there? (The first step is always admission! Don't worry, you’re in good company.)
Thursday, February 11, 2010
The Shut Up And Act Awards
Last week, I wrote about how some of us need to act more and talk less. Well, I’m still talking (no big surprise). But I’ve taken note of some of the people around me who are putting their faith in action – people who are candidates for the Shut Up And Act Awards.
My first nomination for the Shut Up And Act Awards is my friend Kelly. She’s one of the hardest working moms I know. In the past 8 years, she’s taken in over 30 foster kids into her home. Kids who have no where else to go. Kids who are hurting. Kids who are tired of people letting them down.
Kelly takes these kids in and models love, stability, and faith. Of course she gets attached, but she knows that more often than not she’ll have to let go of these children sooner than they may be ready to go, and she prays that their time together will make a lasting difference.
Kelly recently turned 50, and you would think she would slow down and start worrying about herself. Instead, she is in the process of adopting a beautiful, 2-year-old boy who has been in her care since he was 9 months old.
So, while other 50-year-old mothers are looking forward to retirement and planning to be empty nesters, Kelly is opening up her arms and her home to more children, including a little boy who needs a mother for years and years to come.
Thanks, Kelly, for modeling action over words.
For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. (Matthew 25:35)
Who would you like to nominate for the Shut Up And Act Awards? Please send me an email at sdimickele@gmail.com or write a post. I’d love to hear about it and write about it!
My first nomination for the Shut Up And Act Awards is my friend Kelly. She’s one of the hardest working moms I know. In the past 8 years, she’s taken in over 30 foster kids into her home. Kids who have no where else to go. Kids who are hurting. Kids who are tired of people letting them down.
Kelly takes these kids in and models love, stability, and faith. Of course she gets attached, but she knows that more often than not she’ll have to let go of these children sooner than they may be ready to go, and she prays that their time together will make a lasting difference.
Kelly recently turned 50, and you would think she would slow down and start worrying about herself. Instead, she is in the process of adopting a beautiful, 2-year-old boy who has been in her care since he was 9 months old.
So, while other 50-year-old mothers are looking forward to retirement and planning to be empty nesters, Kelly is opening up her arms and her home to more children, including a little boy who needs a mother for years and years to come.
Thanks, Kelly, for modeling action over words.
For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. (Matthew 25:35)
Who would you like to nominate for the Shut Up And Act Awards? Please send me an email at sdimickele@gmail.com or write a post. I’d love to hear about it and write about it!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Underdressed. Just A Little.
I hate it when I’m underdressed. Right or wrong, appearances matter. So when in doubt, like most lawyers, I tend to overdress.
Which is why I was caught completely off guard in my sweats and pony tail at a lunch cafe in Palm Beach last month.
I had just finished a conference, and Doug and I decided to get a casual bite to eat in town. It was Saturday afternoon, the most casual day of the week in our hometown of Columbus, Ohio.
But we were in Palm Beach. Anywhere else in the country, I might have been appropriately dressed. Not here. Obviously, this was my first trip.
At the local diner, the women wore suits, heals, and even a few evening gowns. (I’m not kidding about the evening gowns -- full length.) Doug was in awe of the Bentleys. I was in awe of the Botox.
I have heard about these kinds of places on TV before. I just didn’t know they actually existed. All of the women knew each other, and all of them were parading around like runway models in the restaurant.
Skinny. Blonde. Tan. Over 40. Full lips. Large bosom. Lots of plastic. Lots of glitter. High pitched, whiney voices.
All of a sudden, I wished I had at least showered. How stupid could I be? I was in Palm Beach, not the rust belt. Why didn’t I at least have the foresight to put on a little make-up and heels?
Yes, I got a few stares. When it was all said and done, I was glad to get home to the Midwest. Sure, we have our share of pretentious people, but even my hip friends look a little frumpy next to this group.
What do you prefer? Midwest frump, or Palm Beach glitz? Or maybe something in between?
Which is why I was caught completely off guard in my sweats and pony tail at a lunch cafe in Palm Beach last month.
I had just finished a conference, and Doug and I decided to get a casual bite to eat in town. It was Saturday afternoon, the most casual day of the week in our hometown of Columbus, Ohio.
But we were in Palm Beach. Anywhere else in the country, I might have been appropriately dressed. Not here. Obviously, this was my first trip.
At the local diner, the women wore suits, heals, and even a few evening gowns. (I’m not kidding about the evening gowns -- full length.) Doug was in awe of the Bentleys. I was in awe of the Botox.
I have heard about these kinds of places on TV before. I just didn’t know they actually existed. All of the women knew each other, and all of them were parading around like runway models in the restaurant.
Skinny. Blonde. Tan. Over 40. Full lips. Large bosom. Lots of plastic. Lots of glitter. High pitched, whiney voices.
All of a sudden, I wished I had at least showered. How stupid could I be? I was in Palm Beach, not the rust belt. Why didn’t I at least have the foresight to put on a little make-up and heels?
Yes, I got a few stares. When it was all said and done, I was glad to get home to the Midwest. Sure, we have our share of pretentious people, but even my hip friends look a little frumpy next to this group.
What do you prefer? Midwest frump, or Palm Beach glitz? Or maybe something in between?
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
The Conscience Of A Firstborn
Abby, our 3-year-old, is known to take God’s name in vain under her breath. And Nick, our firstborn, is worried.
I was putting Nick to bed the other night, and he told me there was something he wanted to talk to me about. He said, “I think I’ve figured out why Abby keeps saying Oh My God.”
“Really,” I responded.
“Yeah, here’s what’s happening. When you’re not home, Dad gets busy and forgets to check what we’re watching on TV. Sometimes, Abby puts on shows that we’re not allowed to watch, and I try to tell her not to watch them, but she won’t listen to me.”
I explained to Nick that it wasn’t his fault, but I appreciated his concern. And, yes, I would talk to Dad about the TV. But the most important thing is to pray for Abby and to be a good example. As she gets older, she’ll learn to think before she talks.
I’m always telling Nick “just worry about yourself.” He's known to be the family sheriff, but in this particular situation, I don’t think he was trying to be a tattle tale. He was genuinely concerned about Abby.
Tattle tale or not, I’m thankful for the conscience of a firstborn. (Yeah, I'm one of those lastborns that always got away with murder.)
Nick is always complaining that it’s hard to be the oldest, and I always tell him to call his Aunt Mona, my firstborn sister, for some sympathy. Any other firstborns out there who relate to Nick?
I was putting Nick to bed the other night, and he told me there was something he wanted to talk to me about. He said, “I think I’ve figured out why Abby keeps saying Oh My God.”
“Really,” I responded.
“Yeah, here’s what’s happening. When you’re not home, Dad gets busy and forgets to check what we’re watching on TV. Sometimes, Abby puts on shows that we’re not allowed to watch, and I try to tell her not to watch them, but she won’t listen to me.”
I explained to Nick that it wasn’t his fault, but I appreciated his concern. And, yes, I would talk to Dad about the TV. But the most important thing is to pray for Abby and to be a good example. As she gets older, she’ll learn to think before she talks.
I’m always telling Nick “just worry about yourself.” He's known to be the family sheriff, but in this particular situation, I don’t think he was trying to be a tattle tale. He was genuinely concerned about Abby.
Tattle tale or not, I’m thankful for the conscience of a firstborn. (Yeah, I'm one of those lastborns that always got away with murder.)
Nick is always complaining that it’s hard to be the oldest, and I always tell him to call his Aunt Mona, my firstborn sister, for some sympathy. Any other firstborns out there who relate to Nick?
Monday, February 8, 2010
Top Ten Reasons I Hate Wearing Panty Hose
I thought about putting on panty hose this morning but firmly decided against it. Here are the top ten reasons I hate wearing panty hose:
1. I can’t breathe.
2. Men don’t have to wear them.
3. I would rather show off my hairy legs.
4. I can’t enjoy my dessert without getting a tummy ache.
5. They’re artificial.
6. They always run.
7. They're bad for the environment (I made that up, but I'm sure it's true).
8. They’re too old fashion.
9. My kids would rather use them for Halloween masks.
10. They make me sweat in places we should not discuss on a PG-13 blog.
Does anyone out there actually like to wear panty hose? Let’s unite and ban them altogether.
1. I can’t breathe.
2. Men don’t have to wear them.
3. I would rather show off my hairy legs.
4. I can’t enjoy my dessert without getting a tummy ache.
5. They’re artificial.
6. They always run.
7. They're bad for the environment (I made that up, but I'm sure it's true).
8. They’re too old fashion.
9. My kids would rather use them for Halloween masks.
10. They make me sweat in places we should not discuss on a PG-13 blog.
Does anyone out there actually like to wear panty hose? Let’s unite and ban them altogether.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Moms Don't Get Sick, Do They?
Mom, sick? The two words don't belong in the same sentence. After all, who is going to be the mom when Mom is sick?
I was feeling a little under the weather the other evening. My throat was sore, I was running a low grade fever, and my head was spinning. I'm one of those people who refuses to get sick, but sometimes my immune system catches up with me.
I got home from work and lay down on the couch. I didn't help with dinner. I didn't tell anyone to finish homework. I didn't pull out my briefcase, check my email, or return any phone calls. No, I didn't even start blogging. I just closed my eyes and did absolutely nothing.
My kids looked at me in terror. Something was really wrong. When does Mom ever lie on the couch and do nothing?
Anna's maternal instincts kicked in, and she decided to take matters into her own hands. She made of list of things to help me get well. Food. Water. Bath. Massage. Abby ran to get her comb and brush (she decided it was time to get those nasty knots out of my curly hair), and in a matter of 15 minutes, I was hydrated, rubbed, combed, and bathed. Then Anna prayed, Dear God, please help Mom to get better because we really need her.
I still didn't feel much better, but I wouldn't let the common cold get the best of me. I was just thankful that my kids were taking good care of me. Yes, sometimes even busy moms need to slow down and rest, like it or not.
So, some words of advice for my readers this weekend, slow down a little and get some rest!
I was feeling a little under the weather the other evening. My throat was sore, I was running a low grade fever, and my head was spinning. I'm one of those people who refuses to get sick, but sometimes my immune system catches up with me.
I got home from work and lay down on the couch. I didn't help with dinner. I didn't tell anyone to finish homework. I didn't pull out my briefcase, check my email, or return any phone calls. No, I didn't even start blogging. I just closed my eyes and did absolutely nothing.
My kids looked at me in terror. Something was really wrong. When does Mom ever lie on the couch and do nothing?
Anna's maternal instincts kicked in, and she decided to take matters into her own hands. She made of list of things to help me get well. Food. Water. Bath. Massage. Abby ran to get her comb and brush (she decided it was time to get those nasty knots out of my curly hair), and in a matter of 15 minutes, I was hydrated, rubbed, combed, and bathed. Then Anna prayed, Dear God, please help Mom to get better because we really need her.
I still didn't feel much better, but I wouldn't let the common cold get the best of me. I was just thankful that my kids were taking good care of me. Yes, sometimes even busy moms need to slow down and rest, like it or not.
So, some words of advice for my readers this weekend, slow down a little and get some rest!
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Talk Is Cheap
Some of us like to write. In other words, we like to hear ourselves talk. The only problem? Talk is cheap. If you’re not careful, you can hide behind a computer screen while the rest of the world passes you by and never contribute to something bigger than yourself.
My friend and mentor, Jane Armstrong, recently shared a quote with me that I thought was brilliant.
Share Christ always and when necessary use words.
(This originates with St. Francis of Assisi who said, “Preach the gospel always; when necessary use words.)
This quote hit me hard for a couple of reasons. First, I like to talk. Heck, if I didn’t like to talk so much, I would have never written a book and I certainly wouldn’t post a daily blog. As important, those of us who call ourselves followers of Christ have a really bad reputation for telling other people how to act while sitting in our ivory towers (or in front of our computer screens) and letting the rest of the world take on things like poverty, disease, and famine. We talk a good talk, but our lack of action sends a much stronger message.
Somebody else will do it.
If you’re reading this blog, my intention certainly isn’t to put you on a guilt trip. In fact, if I’m pointing a figure, it’s right back at me. I’m just thankful I have people in my life like Jane who model action first, with talk as a much distant second.
To paraphrase Jane, when in doubt, just shut up and act.
My friend and mentor, Jane Armstrong, recently shared a quote with me that I thought was brilliant.
Share Christ always and when necessary use words.
(This originates with St. Francis of Assisi who said, “Preach the gospel always; when necessary use words.)
This quote hit me hard for a couple of reasons. First, I like to talk. Heck, if I didn’t like to talk so much, I would have never written a book and I certainly wouldn’t post a daily blog. As important, those of us who call ourselves followers of Christ have a really bad reputation for telling other people how to act while sitting in our ivory towers (or in front of our computer screens) and letting the rest of the world take on things like poverty, disease, and famine. We talk a good talk, but our lack of action sends a much stronger message.
Somebody else will do it.
If you’re reading this blog, my intention certainly isn’t to put you on a guilt trip. In fact, if I’m pointing a figure, it’s right back at me. I’m just thankful I have people in my life like Jane who model action first, with talk as a much distant second.
To paraphrase Jane, when in doubt, just shut up and act.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Stop Whining, Mom
I really hate it when my kids whine. I’ll take crying, yelling, and even arguing over whining any day of the week.
Why is whining so annoying?
I looked up the definition in the Free Online Dictionary:
Whining: To utter a plaintive, high pitched, protracted sound, as in pain, fear, supplication, or complaint.
Wow. That sounds a lot like me some days. Yes, I’m known to complain. Yes, it tends to be rather protracted. And, yes, my voice can get a little high-pitched.
So the next time I yell at the kids for whining, I’m going to ask myself, who is really the whiner here?
Busy moms like me are carrying a heavy load on our shoulders, but we really need to stop whining about it and cut the double standard. After all, what’s more annoying? A whining kid, or a whining mom?
Why is whining so annoying?
I looked up the definition in the Free Online Dictionary:
Whining: To utter a plaintive, high pitched, protracted sound, as in pain, fear, supplication, or complaint.
Wow. That sounds a lot like me some days. Yes, I’m known to complain. Yes, it tends to be rather protracted. And, yes, my voice can get a little high-pitched.
So the next time I yell at the kids for whining, I’m going to ask myself, who is really the whiner here?
Busy moms like me are carrying a heavy load on our shoulders, but we really need to stop whining about it and cut the double standard. After all, what’s more annoying? A whining kid, or a whining mom?
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Keeping The Memories
My kids will never have fancy scrapbooks. Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever finished Abby’s baby book. For the last few years, I’ve been shoving my photos and keepsakes in a drawer in our dining room. Someday, I’ll try to put them in an album.
My kids may not have albums, scrapbooks, or photo collections. Instead, they have journals.
When I was pregnant with Nick, my sister Amy bought me A Mother’s Journal, A Keepsake Book For Thoughts And Dreams. I opened it up and started writing even before he was born, and I haven’t stopped. (I have the same journals for Anna and Abby.)
So, when my kids took their first steps, I didn’t have a picture. I wrote it in the journal. When they had their first toddler tantrum, I didn’t get it on video – I wrote it in the journal. Sure, I got a little behind on their baby books, but at least I still recorded the memories.
I don’t think it matters how we record the memories. But I do think it’s important to hold them tightly in our hearts, journals, scrapbooks, and albums. I’ll give my kids their journals when they’re much older – maybe on a special birthday or milestone. They grow up too fast, and I want to keep capturing those special moments in writing.
How do you keep the memories? There’s no magic formula, but we all need to take the time to make our family record. If not you, than who?
My kids may not have albums, scrapbooks, or photo collections. Instead, they have journals.
When I was pregnant with Nick, my sister Amy bought me A Mother’s Journal, A Keepsake Book For Thoughts And Dreams. I opened it up and started writing even before he was born, and I haven’t stopped. (I have the same journals for Anna and Abby.)
So, when my kids took their first steps, I didn’t have a picture. I wrote it in the journal. When they had their first toddler tantrum, I didn’t get it on video – I wrote it in the journal. Sure, I got a little behind on their baby books, but at least I still recorded the memories.
I don’t think it matters how we record the memories. But I do think it’s important to hold them tightly in our hearts, journals, scrapbooks, and albums. I’ll give my kids their journals when they’re much older – maybe on a special birthday or milestone. They grow up too fast, and I want to keep capturing those special moments in writing.
How do you keep the memories? There’s no magic formula, but we all need to take the time to make our family record. If not you, than who?
Monday, February 1, 2010
How I Got Published - Part 4 (The Editing Process)
Like everything else about writing a book, the editing process takes time and work.
Step One: Write. The first step, not surprisingly, is to write. I signed a publishing contract in December 2008 that gave me until June 2009 to deliver a first manuscript. Even though over half of my manuscript was written in December, it’s always a challenge to finish a book.
Step Two: Collaborate. This is where your editor comes in. Rather than waiting for feedback until June, I collaborated with my editor, Susan, much earlier. She gave me her big picture thoughts about the book, and I shared my vision for completion. We tried to wrestle with some of the tough questions up front, like How can we make my writing more universal? Are there too many stories about my own family? Will my audience be able to relate to Lady Lawyer? If your editor has the time, I’m a firm believer in early collaboration.
Step Three: Back and forth. After June 2009, Susan and I both worked heavily on the manuscript, passing it back and forth. The wonderful thing about working with a skilled editor is she will make your work better and sharper. When I think about Susan, I think about Proverbs 27:17: “Iron sharpens iron, so one [woman] sharpens another.” A good editor will provide solid criticism. This chapter has no take away. This story doesn’t belong in the book. This part is too redundant. Susan and I went back and forth – line by line – until we were both satisfied with the content.
Step Four: Copyedit. Once Susan and I were done editing, she passed the book to the copyeditors. These are the master proofreaders! They also gave the content a fresh read and caught inconsistencies. Presently, the manuscript continues to go through several sets of proofreading until it’s ready to go to print. (This is where we’re at right now. Printing is set for late March 2010.)
That’s the editing process in a nutshell. The most difficult part of editing can be opening yourself up to criticism. For me, this wasn’t anything new (I’ve worked in a large law firm for 15 years) but I can imagine that constructive criticism is probably tough for most writers (especially the Lone Ranger types). In the end, two heads are better than one – that’s the beauty of editing!
Step One: Write. The first step, not surprisingly, is to write. I signed a publishing contract in December 2008 that gave me until June 2009 to deliver a first manuscript. Even though over half of my manuscript was written in December, it’s always a challenge to finish a book.
Step Two: Collaborate. This is where your editor comes in. Rather than waiting for feedback until June, I collaborated with my editor, Susan, much earlier. She gave me her big picture thoughts about the book, and I shared my vision for completion. We tried to wrestle with some of the tough questions up front, like How can we make my writing more universal? Are there too many stories about my own family? Will my audience be able to relate to Lady Lawyer? If your editor has the time, I’m a firm believer in early collaboration.
Step Three: Back and forth. After June 2009, Susan and I both worked heavily on the manuscript, passing it back and forth. The wonderful thing about working with a skilled editor is she will make your work better and sharper. When I think about Susan, I think about Proverbs 27:17: “Iron sharpens iron, so one [woman] sharpens another.” A good editor will provide solid criticism. This chapter has no take away. This story doesn’t belong in the book. This part is too redundant. Susan and I went back and forth – line by line – until we were both satisfied with the content.
Step Four: Copyedit. Once Susan and I were done editing, she passed the book to the copyeditors. These are the master proofreaders! They also gave the content a fresh read and caught inconsistencies. Presently, the manuscript continues to go through several sets of proofreading until it’s ready to go to print. (This is where we’re at right now. Printing is set for late March 2010.)
That’s the editing process in a nutshell. The most difficult part of editing can be opening yourself up to criticism. For me, this wasn’t anything new (I’ve worked in a large law firm for 15 years) but I can imagine that constructive criticism is probably tough for most writers (especially the Lone Ranger types). In the end, two heads are better than one – that’s the beauty of editing!
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