Category: Life changes

Zombified

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Between preparing for Cricket’s birthday party and participating in the follow party hosted by Charlotte Castle on Facebook yesterday, I’m feeling a bit zombified today.  The follow party was great fun – I’ve made some new friends, gained some new followers, and had some great conversations.  But this zombie feeling isn’t likely to let up soon – Cricket’s party is tomorrow and I still have lots to do yet.  I’m taking a break for now, though.  I need a good nap.

I’m still struggling to believe that come Monday, Cricket will be two years old.  It seems like just yesterday we brought him home from the hospital, all excited and filled with joy at the prospect of the new life that was ours to mold.  I must admit, my favorite part of having kids with Seymour (namely, Cricket and Thumper) is that we don’t have to share them with anyone else (Tadpole and Tomcat each come from previous marriages and, while we normally get along pretty well with our exes, there are always times when things don’t go the way we would like them to go or when we don’t get to have the kids when we would like to have them because they’re with their other parents – it’s just part of being divorced).  For instance, Tomcat and Tadpole are with their other parents this weekend and as far as I know will not be able to come to Cricket’s party tomorrow.  It’s a disappointment, but it comes with the territory when you’re a divorced parent.  That’s just the way life goes.

Anyway, my boys are getting so big that it’s hard to believe.  In just over a month I’ll be doing all this again in preparation for Thumper’s first birthday!  To be honest, I’m just glad he’s made it to his birthday because when he was born, we weren’t sure he would.  His birth was vastly different from his brother’s – instead of a joyful event full of smiles and visitors, it was an anxiety-ridden event full of worry and panic.  It all seems like such a long time ago, but at the same time, it feels like only yesterday.  It’s funny how time pulls that off.

And now, to nap.  Don’t forget to stop back Monday, when I’ll be kicking off four days of posts featuring Lisa McKay and her latest book, Love at the Speed of Email!  You won’t want to miss it!

(c) 2012.  All rights reserved.

Hear ye! Hear ye!

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Watch this space!  Something special this way comes.  The week of June 25, I’ll be featuring posts related to the release of a new book, Love at the Speed of Email by the very talented Lisa McKay.  I’ve read the first chapter, “Spinsters Abroad,” which is available here, and was thoroughly entertained.  But don’t take my word for it; check out what others had to say:

“Love at the Speed of Email is part grand romance, part travel memoir, and part essay on life’s most precious gifts.  Lisa McKay is a phenomenal writer; clever and comedic, poignant and pitch-perfect.  You will love this love story.”  -Susan Meissner, award-winning author of The Shape of Mercy and A Sound Among the Trees

“Love at the Speed of Email, Lisa McKay’s engrossing memoir about life and love and home, is a wild ride that spans the globe.  At turns funny, contemplative, and romantic, Lisa’s story resonated on many different levels and kept me eagerly turning pages, hoping for a happily-ever-after ending to this modern day fairy tale.  I can’t recommend this extraordinary book highly enough!”  -Nicole Baart, bestselling author of Far From Here and After the Leaves Fall

“A travel memoir with a deep soul, Love at the Speed of Email takes us takes us around the world but always brings us back to the heart of the matter: humanity’s longing for place, purpose, faith.  Lisa McKay’s seamless storytelling helps us find ourselves in every corner of her globetrotting and even learn a little about love along the way.  A true pleasure for the journeyer in all of us!”  -Leeana Tankersley, author of Found Art: Discovering Beauty in Foreign Places

So don’t forget to stop back the week of June 25 to find out more about this exciting new book and this fantastic author!  I guarantee you won’t want to miss this great event!

(c) 2012.  All rights reserved.

Summer lovin’

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Ah, summer.  It is June, after all.  How the heck that happened, I’ll never know.  I could swear that only yesterday it was January.  Anyway, Kristen Lamb shared summertime memories of her youth in a post this afternoon and it made me smile.  I remembered some of the same years she described, but I remembered them through the eyes of a child instead of the eyes of a young woman.   Sure, by the time I was five, the Russians were no longer our enemies, but I still remember slip ‘n’ slides, spending more time outside than in, and never locking our doors. Ever.

Photo Friday

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Welcome to another Photo Friday!  Today’s post features those wild and crazy guys, Cricket and Seymour, when at least one of them was slightly less wild and/or crazy.

Seymour and Cricket, two peas in a pod

Taken in the hospital the day after Cricket was born (yes, the date stamp is wrong), this is easily my favorite picture of them so far.  It will probably always be one of my favorites.  Cricket looks so much like Seymour, and I love the look on Seymour’s face.  It says, “Mess with him, and you’ll be praying for the cops to haul you away by the time I’m done with you.”  It reminds me of the Facebook flair that says, “Someone who loves me is well-trained in the use of their weapon and accurate up to three hundred meters.”  We have a framed print of this picture sitting on our mantle.  I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of looking at it.  If I do, I’m sure that means that an even more precious photo has taken its place.

(c) 2012.  All rights reserved.

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One of those days…

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Yes, it was one of those days today.  Actually, it wasn’t really a bad day, but it started off looking like it was going to be one.  I woke up and discovered that Cricket had managed to unscrew the cap from a full tube of Desitin.  Evidently, he thought it would make a wonderful styling accessory because his hair was full of it.  I guess he also thought it would make great make-up, because his face was covered in it, too.  Naturally, it was all over his hands.  He got it in his bedding, on his feet, on his door.  It was a mess.

Of water torture and little men

Taking time…and kicking guilt in the keister

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I sat down to work on this post last night after a hectic couple of hours and ended up reading the news on msnbc.com instead.  Whoops.

Anyway, I read a fantastic post the other day on Kristen Lamb’s blog about taking time to rest and how there is a season to everything under the sun.  Yes, I know Ecclesiastes says the exact same thing, but Ms. Lamb said it in regards to writing by quoting the Byrds and the song “Turn, Turn, Turn.”  By the way, I love that song.  The melody is beautiful and would be playing in my head were it not for whatever is playing on the radio and distracting me (I know the song, I just can’t think of its name – “Angel Eyes” perhaps? – and I couldn’t tell you who sings it for the life of me).  The comparisons she draws between farming and writing are obvious, yet they’d never occurred to me before (despite having grown up in America’s breadbasket, where I still currently live).  Her words struck a particular chord with me as I’ve been dealing with quite a lot of guilt lately concerning a variety of tasks that seem to go undone despite my best intentions to accomplish them. To everything there is a season (turn, turn, turn)…

Scenes from home

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Apparently my kids need to be educated.  The following conversation took place this morning as we were about to walk out the door:

• M: Tom, why are you only wearing one glove?
•T: Because I lent the other one to RaShaun.
•M: Okay, well, either you need to wear both gloves or neither of them.  Michael Jackson couldn’t pull off the one-glove look and neither can you.
•T: Who’s Michael Jackson?
•R: Didn’t we look him up at your First Communion?
•M: *facepalm* No, that was Michael Jordan.  Different guy.  Do you know the song “Thriller?”
•T: No.
•M: *epic facepalm*

Clearly tonight’s soundtrack must feature Michael Jackson.  I’m not even all that wild about his music, but at least I know who he is.  And while I realize that for the course of their lives he hasn’t been the most popular singer, I still can’t believe they don’t know who he is.  It reminds me of another aspect of their education that is sadly lacking: the ability to alphabetize.

•M: Rachael, will you get out [random movie whose title I can’t recall]?
•R: It’s not here.
•M: Yes, it is.  All the movies are in alphabetical order; just look under [appropriate letter – I think it was L or M].
•R: It’s not here, I’m telling you.
•M: I know we have it. *pulls movie off of shelf*  See?  It’s right where I said it was!
•G: Hold on a minute.  Maybe they don’t know how to alphabetize.
•M: Do you kids know how to alphabetize?
•K: (in unison)No!
•M: *facepalm*

Evidently they don’t teach kids how to alphabetize things in school anymore.  This useful skill must have fallen by the wayside when they did away with media center as a class.  Now that everything is available online, who needs to know about the Dewey Decimal System or how to use a card catalog?  (Please to note the sarcasm.)  Alphabetizing is for the ancients, much like legible cursive or heck, even legible printing.  My kids’ inability to alphabetize was quickly remedied.  I’ve not tested it yet, but I do hope they were paying attention.  After all, stranger things have happened.

(c) 2012.  All rights reserved.

I’m versatile!

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That’s right, I’ve been nominated for the Versatile Blogger Award!  It’s actually the second time I’ve been nominated.  I kinda forgot about it the first time, though, which is weird because it was the first time in the nearly five years I’ve been blogging that I’d ever been nominated for an award like this.

Anyway, the lovely S.Z.W.ordsmith was kind enough to nominate me (thank you!) – evidently my poetry makes her smile.  That makes me smile, because I do so love to make others happy.  The rules say I have to say seven things about myself and nominate fifteen others for the award, so here goes! For deets and a list of good reads, follow me!

The writer’s identity

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Writing

My noon hour yesterday was much like many other noon hours at my day job.  I grabbed my computer, my wallet, and headed down the street to the local café-type establishment to quiet the beast inside (because yes, my stomach is a snarling, ferocious beast, foaming at the mouth as it waits, ever-impatient, for the victuals that will eventually slide into its gaping maw).  I took a seat, ordered my food, and withdrew my laptop from its handy-dandy carrying case to work on my story (and when that failed, to at least continue looking over one of five samples sent to me by a friend for some vicious red-penning).  As I was trying to solve a major plot problem (Ha!), a conversation caught my ear.  One of the waiters was discussing writing with the gal in the booth behind me.  He is a college student majoring in English; she is one of many people who have written a book, only to (likely) have it remain unseen by the masses, covered in dust, and taking up space in her home.  “But I sent it to so-and-so – he writes Christian books, you know – and he thought it was very good!” she proclaimed to half the bar, the waiter, and me.

Ignoring the woman, I asked the waiter what he enjoyed writing and what he wanted to do as a writer.  He was where my interest lay because he is at that point in his life where he still has the world at his fingertips and anything is possible.  Sure, anything is always possible, but at 28 with a husband and four kids, it’s not likely that I’ll be able to study abroad and learn French through immersion or spend a summer backpacking through Germany absorbing local culture anymore.  Anyway, he replied that he had wanted to be a novelist and he liked sci-fi, but that he’d been fighting depression and not writing as prolifically as he’d done before.  I mentioned that I’d just finished a fantasy novel and that my own depression had made me want to lock myself in my room to write.  Naturally, this piqued the woman’s interest, so she turned her curiosity away from the waiter and onto me.  “I’m sorry, what do you do?” Click here to find out!