Once upon a time I thought girls were pretty little beings with pigtails and pink dresses. Sugar and spice, and everything nice. WRONG! After I had one, I learned the truth. They cry when you brush their hair, they never like the clothes you buy them, and there is never anything good to eat.
Story one in the 'daughter chronicles.' This morning I made French toast. I was sitting with my computer in my lap, coffee at my side and the daughter stated, "There's nothing to eat!"
Mom mode kicked in. "Do you want me to make French toast?" Did I really just say that? Yes, I did. I actually offered.
French toast? She made that face, the one that should have warned me. But then she seemed compliant, so I jumped up to do my mom duty thinking that I'd just scored sunshine points from kid 3. There should have been a disclaimer of some kind attached to her forehead: "Could spontaneously combust." All girls should come with that warning. No, instead there was a smile and something resemblings sweetness. (this is the look that gives me hope for the future)
The problem is that my idea of 'fixing French toast' is ordering it at a restaurant. This project meant googling a recipe, hauling out the eggs and milk, soaking the bread and firing up the stove. Really? This early in the morning? (Cooking before noon??)
Batch 1 went terribly wrong. I soaked the bread too long and put it in a skillet with too much oil. THe daughter's reaction to this oozing mess: I'm not eating that. I kind of agreed and we scraped the gooey bread into the trash.
I'm still in sunshine land so I say, "I'll try again if you want."
She agreed. I went back to work on a second batch. This time it turned out much better. I put the lovely, golden brown French toast on the plate. Kid 3 melted into the stormy cloud of blech and said, "I'm not going to eat that. It's gross."
The moral of the story: Girls can be sweet. They can also be icky. Don't get too bent out of shape if you have one and you can't make her happy. Happiness makes them angry. They come with a self-destruct button that is immediately pushed if they sense their own happiness or the happiness of anyone else.
The good news, I've heard that they grow out of this stage and return to normal human beings by the time they're thirty.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
DO NOT DISTURB
I need a sign to hang around my neck. "DO NOT DISTURB."
There are a few people in my world who don't understand these words: Deadline. Working. Later. Can you do it yourself?
The two-year-old great niece has a list of demands and if she doesn't get them, the chihuahua is a gonner. She wants water, no milk, no water..she grins as she plays this game. She would like to clean the floor, it's really a mess. (she might have a point) As I type this, she's flat on the floor, whining that she needs to sweep. I know how to deal with her. I'll turn off Tangled. That's like waterboarding a 2 year old. Or I'll turn it on! That's like waterboarding the rest of the family.
It isn't just the two year old. The dogs need out. They need in. They need water in their bowl. And they ALL need to cuddle in the chair with me and my laptop.
The rest of the family has a list of wants and needs that range from 'why isn't there anything to eat' to 'why isn't there anything to eat.' Their list goes something like this: I'm bored. I don't have anything to wear. What's for dinner. Can we go out to eat. (Oh, that one is mine)
Writing is not an easy job. It really does take time, focus, and more time. There are days that I can't figure out where the characters are going. At times the plot just isn't working or the next sentence is like pulling teeth. Of course there are days that the words flow from my imagination to the computer with little effort. But those days are rare. Writing is a job. A real job.
True, my office attire is whatever I woke up in. My desk is the recliner. But I really do work, no matter what my kids tell you. They think I drink coffee and play mahjong for a living. I promise, if I could get paid for those two things, I would apply for that job.
Do not disturb. But then again, please do. I love my life and I love that I work at home where my kids can tell me about their day, know that I'm here for them if they need something, the great niece can come to stay for weeks, the dogs can cuddle in my lap. I've learned to write a book with a chihuahua between me and the computer and a two-year-old next to me, drinking my coffee.
The question today is balance. Whether you work for home or not, how do we balance all that we have to do and keep our family a priority?
For me, the most important thing is recognizing what can wait until later and what needs attention now. And of course, a good dose of procrastination thrown in, along with a game or two of mahjong.
There are a few people in my world who don't understand these words: Deadline. Working. Later. Can you do it yourself?
The two-year-old great niece has a list of demands and if she doesn't get them, the chihuahua is a gonner. She wants water, no milk, no water..she grins as she plays this game. She would like to clean the floor, it's really a mess. (she might have a point) As I type this, she's flat on the floor, whining that she needs to sweep. I know how to deal with her. I'll turn off Tangled. That's like waterboarding a 2 year old. Or I'll turn it on! That's like waterboarding the rest of the family.
It isn't just the two year old. The dogs need out. They need in. They need water in their bowl. And they ALL need to cuddle in the chair with me and my laptop.
The rest of the family has a list of wants and needs that range from 'why isn't there anything to eat' to 'why isn't there anything to eat.' Their list goes something like this: I'm bored. I don't have anything to wear. What's for dinner. Can we go out to eat. (Oh, that one is mine)
Writing is not an easy job. It really does take time, focus, and more time. There are days that I can't figure out where the characters are going. At times the plot just isn't working or the next sentence is like pulling teeth. Of course there are days that the words flow from my imagination to the computer with little effort. But those days are rare. Writing is a job. A real job.
True, my office attire is whatever I woke up in. My desk is the recliner. But I really do work, no matter what my kids tell you. They think I drink coffee and play mahjong for a living. I promise, if I could get paid for those two things, I would apply for that job.
Do not disturb. But then again, please do. I love my life and I love that I work at home where my kids can tell me about their day, know that I'm here for them if they need something, the great niece can come to stay for weeks, the dogs can cuddle in my lap. I've learned to write a book with a chihuahua between me and the computer and a two-year-old next to me, drinking my coffee.
The question today is balance. Whether you work for home or not, how do we balance all that we have to do and keep our family a priority?
For me, the most important thing is recognizing what can wait until later and what needs attention now. And of course, a good dose of procrastination thrown in, along with a game or two of mahjong.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Peaceful Country Living
I'm almost finished with my first cup of coffee, but I'm thinking this could be a five cup day. And after I'm done drinking coffee I'm hunting down that police officer who doesn't understand proper night time siren use.
Once upon a time the country was quiet. Tree frogs, crickets, the occasional coyote howling. At 4:30 am you might hear a neighbor's rooster crow.
At 4:30 am this morning I was sound asleep (Which doesn't happen that often), dreaming a nice dream. Suddenly a firetruck showed up in my dream. What? Why is there a firetruck here in my dream? I tried to dream it away but it remained, blowing its horn, sounding its siren in short bursts.
What? Siren?
TORNADO!! I jumped out of bed, thinking the first responders were using that annoying fire truck foghorn, blasting their siren, trying to warn us, wake us up. Common Sense says a siren and horn at that time of night are a good sign that we're being warned to head for an interior room.
My husband and I jumped from our bed to see what was the matter. I threw open the door and stepped out on the porch. What to my wondering eyes did I see, but a cop with a spotlight, parked in the road. I yelled (not really) a bad name and shivered in my robe. I flashed my porch lights as if to say, "Stop that you dummy, we're awake, we're awake."
The police car flipped his siren again and hit that annoying horn. He flashed his spotlight upon the dark field. I flipped our porch light, thinking he understood, "we're awake, we're coming, stop it right now." The siren he did sound. The horn he did blare. He ignored my distress signal. My children he did wake. (I have a lot of respect for police officers, but seriously...all of this over a horse.)
My husband jumped in the truck, thinking the officer must need our help. I yelled, "he's an idiot, tell him to turn that thing off." (Is this a christmas story or Dr. Seuss. I've lost track) The kids were not sleeping, dreaming of sugar plums. THe dogs were all barking, wanting to go out. The neighbors were up. Their lights came on.
The nice police officer continued his sounds.
My husband rushed to his side, asked "what could be the matter." The officer shined his light and said, "Hey, someone has a horse out."
REALLY? REALLY? He couldn't back up fifty feet, turn in a driveway, knock on a door and say, "Do you have a horse. It's out."
My husband explained. "It isn't our horse. It doesn't belong to any of our neighbors."
The officer got another call, used my husband's phone, turned on his siren, and tore into the night. THe horse ran away, afraid of the siren. We all went back to bed until someone knocked on the door...Do you know you have a horse out?
Once upon a time the country was quiet. Tree frogs, crickets, the occasional coyote howling. At 4:30 am you might hear a neighbor's rooster crow.
At 4:30 am this morning I was sound asleep (Which doesn't happen that often), dreaming a nice dream. Suddenly a firetruck showed up in my dream. What? Why is there a firetruck here in my dream? I tried to dream it away but it remained, blowing its horn, sounding its siren in short bursts.
What? Siren?
TORNADO!! I jumped out of bed, thinking the first responders were using that annoying fire truck foghorn, blasting their siren, trying to warn us, wake us up. Common Sense says a siren and horn at that time of night are a good sign that we're being warned to head for an interior room.
My husband and I jumped from our bed to see what was the matter. I threw open the door and stepped out on the porch. What to my wondering eyes did I see, but a cop with a spotlight, parked in the road. I yelled (not really) a bad name and shivered in my robe. I flashed my porch lights as if to say, "Stop that you dummy, we're awake, we're awake."
The police car flipped his siren again and hit that annoying horn. He flashed his spotlight upon the dark field. I flipped our porch light, thinking he understood, "we're awake, we're coming, stop it right now." The siren he did sound. The horn he did blare. He ignored my distress signal. My children he did wake. (I have a lot of respect for police officers, but seriously...all of this over a horse.)
My husband jumped in the truck, thinking the officer must need our help. I yelled, "he's an idiot, tell him to turn that thing off." (Is this a christmas story or Dr. Seuss. I've lost track) The kids were not sleeping, dreaming of sugar plums. THe dogs were all barking, wanting to go out. The neighbors were up. Their lights came on.
The nice police officer continued his sounds.
My husband rushed to his side, asked "what could be the matter." The officer shined his light and said, "Hey, someone has a horse out."
REALLY? REALLY? He couldn't back up fifty feet, turn in a driveway, knock on a door and say, "Do you have a horse. It's out."
My husband explained. "It isn't our horse. It doesn't belong to any of our neighbors."
The officer got another call, used my husband's phone, turned on his siren, and tore into the night. THe horse ran away, afraid of the siren. We all went back to bed until someone knocked on the door...Do you know you have a horse out?
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Dieting
What is it about spring that makes us think we need to diet? Is it the looming of swimsuit weather? Is it the thought of T-shirts and shorts. I mean, sweaters and jackets really do cover a multitude of sins (better known as too much chocolate, lack of exercise due to deadline, love of carbs, etc). In two months we'll be on our way to the beach. That gives me two months to diet. In honor of the season of dieting, I did two things at the grocery store today. I bought Agave Nectar for my coffee. It's healthy, you know. It also has more calories than good old sugar. I bought banana chips, trail mix and mixed nuts. And cupcakes. But I didn't buy the caramel cake or the Paula Deen Ooey Gooey Butter Cake. Any good tips on dealing with self-control? Never go shopping might be at the top of the list.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Me Again
Where has all the time gone? Months without a blog post! Amazingly enough the world kept spinning. So what has happened in the last few months? In my world, family, church and two books finished and another started. The first is a novella, Her Christmas Cowboy. It will be released in November along with a story by Gail Gaymer Martin. The second, The Cowboy's Christmas Blessing, will be released in December. Do we see a trend? Yes, the answer is COWBOYS. These two cowboy books kick off the beginning of the Cooper Creek series which means plenty of stories featuring cowboys! So what will I be doing this summer? Writing more cowboy books, of course. I'll also be running like crazy with kids, hopefully drinking a lot of coffee, and definitely making a trip to the beach. What are your plans for the summer? If you're writing, how goes the journey?
Monday, November 15, 2010
Giving
Yesterday I witnessed the sweetest example of giving. It happened at a birthday party for a 4 year old boy.
A little boy attended the party and he brought his gift wrapped in his coat. He set that coat on the counter of the church and said, "This has my present in it. I need to keep it right here so I can give it to him when he opens his presents."
The coat was then placed with the other gifts and when it was time for presents to be unwrapped that little guy went and got his coat. His little face beamed as he handed over the gift. He had brought it and wrapped it all by himself. When the coat was unwrapped the gift inside was a cracked and battered little truck. Both the giver of the gift and the child who received were thrilled.
As adults how many of us would be excited to have a dirty little coat to unwrap? How many of us would shout for excitement when we pulled out a very used toy?
We might pretend. But would we really be thankful? Would we pull back from that coat and wonder when it was last washed? Would we put the little truck on the table and move on to something else, something more worthwhile?
To that little boy, his coat held the most precious gift in the world. It was the best he had to give.
A little boy attended the party and he brought his gift wrapped in his coat. He set that coat on the counter of the church and said, "This has my present in it. I need to keep it right here so I can give it to him when he opens his presents."
The coat was then placed with the other gifts and when it was time for presents to be unwrapped that little guy went and got his coat. His little face beamed as he handed over the gift. He had brought it and wrapped it all by himself. When the coat was unwrapped the gift inside was a cracked and battered little truck. Both the giver of the gift and the child who received were thrilled.
As adults how many of us would be excited to have a dirty little coat to unwrap? How many of us would shout for excitement when we pulled out a very used toy?
We might pretend. But would we really be thankful? Would we pull back from that coat and wonder when it was last washed? Would we put the little truck on the table and move on to something else, something more worthwhile?
To that little boy, his coat held the most precious gift in the world. It was the best he had to give.
Friday, September 3, 2010
SUMMER'S SLIPPING AWAY
This has been a crazy summer. I hadn't realized it had been so long since I visited my own blog. How sad is that?
So, what happened to make the summer crazy. Not a lot, really. Writing deadlines, kids, kids, kids, vacation, the RWA NATIONAL CONFERENCE in Orlando, kids, kids, kids....
My husband and I celebrated our 24th anniversary this summer. Twenty-four years...and we actually still like each other!
Yes, people are amazed. Most particularly the people who wonder why he married me in the first place. Yes, I know who you are.
We've been asked how we do it. How has our marriage survived. I've thought about it and i think the secret is this: friendship. Okay, there is more to it than just friendship. Communication. Mutual Respect. Determination. Communication. Firm Grasp on Reality. Yes, seriously, reality. It's that place where you leave behind the fantasy you built around marriage and your partner and you accept REALITY.
But friendship is a great place to start building a healthy marriage. Friendship will get you through the tough times,( and there will be tough times).
We need to put the same energy into building a relationship with our spouse as we put into our friendships. The difference between our BFF and our spouse is the time spent together. Seriously, if our BFF moved into our house and left her dirty dishes on the coffee table, we'd get tired of her, too.
Your spouse is the best friend that moved in.
Remember when you were a kid and a friend spent the night. It was great. You played, rode bikes, stayed up all night. The next day you did't want the fun to end, so you asked your friend to spend another night. By the next day the two of you were fighting, tired, and never wanted to speak again.
Of course someone threatened to walk home or said the infamous words; I don't want to be your friend anymore. And of course you always made up. Why? Because you were friends and that's what friends do.
Marriage is a slumber party times infinity. There are going to be times when you just want the other person to go home. But then you remember: THEY LIVE WITH YOU.
Build a friendship with your spouse. Spend time together the way you spend time with your best friend. Learn to communicate. (that includes listening as well as talking). Drink coffee together. Go to lunch. Talk.
I think I can speak honestly and say, you aren't always going to feel in love. But if you have friendship, you'll have a foundation to stand on.
So, what happened to make the summer crazy. Not a lot, really. Writing deadlines, kids, kids, kids, vacation, the RWA NATIONAL CONFERENCE in Orlando, kids, kids, kids....
My husband and I celebrated our 24th anniversary this summer. Twenty-four years...and we actually still like each other!
Yes, people are amazed. Most particularly the people who wonder why he married me in the first place. Yes, I know who you are.
We've been asked how we do it. How has our marriage survived. I've thought about it and i think the secret is this: friendship. Okay, there is more to it than just friendship. Communication. Mutual Respect. Determination. Communication. Firm Grasp on Reality. Yes, seriously, reality. It's that place where you leave behind the fantasy you built around marriage and your partner and you accept REALITY.
But friendship is a great place to start building a healthy marriage. Friendship will get you through the tough times,( and there will be tough times).
We need to put the same energy into building a relationship with our spouse as we put into our friendships. The difference between our BFF and our spouse is the time spent together. Seriously, if our BFF moved into our house and left her dirty dishes on the coffee table, we'd get tired of her, too.
Your spouse is the best friend that moved in.
Remember when you were a kid and a friend spent the night. It was great. You played, rode bikes, stayed up all night. The next day you did't want the fun to end, so you asked your friend to spend another night. By the next day the two of you were fighting, tired, and never wanted to speak again.
Of course someone threatened to walk home or said the infamous words; I don't want to be your friend anymore. And of course you always made up. Why? Because you were friends and that's what friends do.
Marriage is a slumber party times infinity. There are going to be times when you just want the other person to go home. But then you remember: THEY LIVE WITH YOU.
Build a friendship with your spouse. Spend time together the way you spend time with your best friend. Learn to communicate. (that includes listening as well as talking). Drink coffee together. Go to lunch. Talk.
I think I can speak honestly and say, you aren't always going to feel in love. But if you have friendship, you'll have a foundation to stand on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)