a day in the life

What do I have to do today. Finish information on cover art for March 2010 book. Work on edits. Next book is due in July. Vacation Bible School in June. If I was a man, I'd be overwhelmed, but i have the wonderful ability to look at what needs to be done, including cleaning house and doing laundry, and convince myself I have six months. So let's drink more coffee.

I always have time to mess with my kids. Kid 2 is the easiest to mess with, which is why that kid is the subject of more posts. My husband says that kid 2 "is going to need a good job to pay for the counseling."

His new obsession, dryer lint. Why? Because he's doing his own laundry now and I clued him into the fact that you have to clean out the lent trap each time you do a load. "Why?" Kid Monk asked.
"Well, because lint is flammable."
"FLAMMABLE!"
Yeah, well, I mean, it isn't going to just catch on fire, but it does have to be cleaned out from time to time.
This is better than the elves that made shoes. My lint trap is getting cleaned in the middle of the night while I sleep!!

I should tell him that dishes left on the counter and clothes left on the floor are prone to spontaneous combustion!

SICK KIDS SHOULD SLEEP

I'm at home with my middle kid...who claimed he was too sick to go to church. And I'll give him this, he did have a fever last night and this morning. Unfortunately now he's feeling much better. He's playing XBox and he wants money for points. I think I've spent enough on him in the last month, and he's the most expensive kid I have. He says that is because he's awesome.

I hope someday he'll get over his self-esteem issues. (JK)

The biggest problem with kid 2 being home: NON STOP TALKING. and now he's singing..
and it isn't good singing. I think it's something like, 'blame it on the ahahahaha, blame it on..agh.'
The dog howling at the alarm clock isn't as annoying as this kid's singing. It's a good thing he's smart, because the whole singing thing is not going to work out for him.

And that takes me back to...isn't he supposed to be sick? Because if he was truly sick, not that I want that for him, but if he was, he'd be quiet. He'd take benadryl and sleep. I'd be sympathetic and bring him water, or crackers.

But when he sings, sympathy is out the window.

Reviwer Blog

I found a great little reviewer blog today, and I wanted to share it with you all. Dr. Grace is witty, smart and her reviews are unique. And I'm not saying that just because she reviewed my February book. I'm saying it because I love to read reviews on all types of books and I really enjoyed reading her blog.
so, check out Dr. Grace.
www.romance-reviews-dr-grace.blogspot.com

Interview with...MYSELF

Today I'm interviewing...Myself! I know, can you believe I managed to score such an illusive author!
Me: Brenda, I hear your 4th Love Inspired is out this month. How does that feel?
Myself: Great, unbelievable. Steeple Hill Love Inspired was my dream publisher, and now the dream is reality.

Me: Has being published changed your life?
Myself: In more ways than I could imagine. I now have an excuse for not getting the laundry done, or the dishes, or the dusting. I have an excuse for ordering pizza or serving bologna sandwiches. DEADLINE. It's my excuse for everything from messy house, being a hermit, to being a total grouch.

Me: I read on Amazon that your new book is about a jewelry designer.
Myself: Umm, no. That's Lois Richer's book, A RING AND A PROMISE, which I just read got a 4 1/2 star review from Romantic Times. You can order it in June. My book, THE COWBOY NEXT DOOR is about Lacey Gould, a character from HIS LITTLE COWGIRL. She meets the cowboy who changes her life, and gains a slightly unexpected surprise.

Me: So, do you have plans for the future.
Myself: I don't know, are you asking me to go somewhere with you?
I really think we should hang out more often.

Wednesday Blahs

Monday is great. It's the beginning of the week. I start out thinking about how much I'll get done and how I'll get the week off to a good start. The thoughts run along the path of keeping up with laundry, being organized, cooking great meals and hugging the kids as they walk through the door. I'm going to be JUNE CLEAVER. I'll even have hair that gets brushed and styled.

By Wednesday I've come to the conclusion that I'm "June Cleaver: GONE WILD." Or should I say June Cleaver: Gone Wrong. Because "Gone Wild" implies I'm off having a wild time. Instead I'm at home, reading a Linda Lael Miller book and I've given up on brushing the hair. The laundry is piling up, I'm still in my PJs and the only thing I've accomplished is walking the dogs and updating facebook and twitter.

Oh, and I realized that my May book has the wrong blurb on the online retailer sites. Yes, you should check it out on Amazon or Barnes and Noble. The Cowboy Next Door: about a woman who makes jewelry. OR NOT. You be the judge.

taking time

Last month we started a nursing home ministry. Every other Sunday we do an evening service for the residents, one of whom is my dad.
We thought we were going to be doing the ministry. But we've realized that we're being ministered to. It's been good for us, great for our kids.

Last night after the sermon an older man stood up and told a story. Years ago he witnessed a hanging on the square of the county seat. As the crowds gathered to watch, the minister walked across the lawn with the man. He walked up the steps of the platform with him. But at the top of the steps the minister stopped, and the man went the rest of the way alone. A minister can't take us all the way. He can pray with us. He can walk with us. But there is a point where he stops. God walks with us the whole way. He doesn't stop at the top of the stairs.

As I sat there listening, I realized how much the people in that nursing home have to teach us: about life, about history and about faith.

Last on the Team is OK

I have never ever been a jock. I was the girl writing poetry or love stories to entertain her friends. I was the one that got picked last for teams in P.E., unless a friend was picking. I was nearsighted, couldn't see the ball coming at me in softball, and my vision puts everything slightly to one side, so my aim in basketball was off. It wasn't that I didn't like to play, I just knew my limitations.

So, lucky for me, at 42 I played my first volleyball game in twenty-something years. I actually had to buy tennis shoes because I didn't have a pair. I do exercise, barefoot in my living room. I take long walks, in sandals.

Some things haven't changed. I'm still a dork, the person who says, "Oh, sorry, was that my ball?" The other players still look at me like I'm from mars.

The thing that has changed, ME. My body. My bladder when jumping for the ball. My back. My fingers, which now have arthritis. My bladder. You get the point without detail, right? You jump, you...
wish you could run to the bathroom.

If you're laughing because you aren't there yet, laugh loud, laugh long...but don't sneeze. Your day is coming. Oh yes, it is. I used to believe I would always be able to read the fine print on the medicine bottle. Oops, kids don't get three teaspoons of benadryl. And I always thought that my sister was the only one with a weak bladder.

Oh well, there is one area in which I have the last laugh. I could never remember P.E. shorts, but I could always remember to bring a romance novel to class. So, to Coach Conrad, if you're reading this, my forgetfulness paid off.

Now, if you don't mind, I have to go take some advil and write a book.