Small-town living is
Not for the faint of heart, but
It is rewarding.
Small-town life never
Leaves you behind, no matter
How far you may run.
(c) 2017. All rights reserved.
Small-town living is
Not for the faint of heart, but
It is rewarding.
Small-town life never
Leaves you behind, no matter
How far you may run.
(c) 2017. All rights reserved.
Mondays come and Fridays go, but weekends last forever.

How will you spend yours?
(c) 2017. All rights reserved.
Fear is more than just a dirty word.
It chills my hands, my feet, my chest. It sends shivers up my spine, ripples through my core. It freezes me.
It clogs my throat. It keeps me from speaking, from singing, from breathing. It keeps me from thinking, from doing, from being. It immobilizes me.
It radiates from my center, permeates everything around me. It destroys my confidence. It debilitates me.

Fear controls my life.
Somehow, I have to fight it. Somehow, I have to overcome it. Somehow, somehow, somehow…
With a name comes power. Now that I know the name of this unspeakable and overwhelming foe, I can defeat it.
I have the power.
Fear had better watch its back.
(c) 2017. All rights reserved.
Go on, then, smile.
Come on – give us a smile.
It’s not that hard. See? You just part your lips a bit. Show off those pearly whites.
What do you mean, you don’t feel like it? You used to smile all the time. You were the smiley girl.
What do you mean, everything’s changed?
Come on – give us a smile. It won’t hurt. You can do it – it’s not hard. You might even like it.
Go on, then, smile. For old times’ sake. Just smile.
(c) 2017. All rights reserved.
Thanks to the wonders of sharing (read: Sick Kid #1 shared with big brother (and also, apparently, with Dad)), I ended up spending today at home. Okay, I thought, I’ll get him all tucked into bed and have a nice quiet day. And then I remembered that it’s spring break and, unlike last week, I would not have the house to myself.
So much for that nice, quiet day.
I had planned to finish a short story today while Sick Kid #2 slept off his headache/fever combo. I had planned to get a little revision work done on another project. I had planned to be productive, but in the end, I didn’t do any of that.
Instead, I calmed down an upset little Cricket, who wanted to watch a movie instead of going to lie down in bed. I gave him some Tylenol to get his fever down, tucked him into bed, and read him a story before turning his bottom bunk into a nice, dark cave. Then I sat down and stared at my computer screen for a little while. Didn’t really do anything, just stared (and scrolled through Facebook). Thumper played on his Leapster, which he loves, and I love that he’s so into the educational games. Kid loves to learn. 🙂
I ended up running to the store while Miss Tadpole watched her brothers for a few minutes, because Cricket wanted some 7-Up. A quick stop at the library for a print job led to an unexpected yet exciting conversation with the librarian (watch this space for details). When the caramel apple dip in stock at the grocery store proved terribly disappointing, I decided to make my own and then prayed I had all the ingredients.
I did, and it was amazing. I have my seventh grade home ec. teacher to thank for the cookbook I got the recipe from, and a longtime bestie for the recipe itself. And, thanks to the wonders of Facebook, I was able to thank them both. 🙂
Miss Tadpole and I spent the afternoon eating apples with our homemade caramel dip and watching movies. It is my considered opinion that one can never see The Cutting Edge or Emma too many times (which is probably a good thing, since I have two versions of the latter). We talked, and laughed, and it was so, so wonderful.
What I thought was going to be a less-than-fun day at home (I hate when the kids are sick because I feel so powerless and all I want to do is make them feel better, but I can’t) turned out to be pretty fan-darn-tastic. Between sick kids and bored kids and moody kids, it could have been a not-so-nice day. But with Cricket eventually content to sleep away the day and with Thumper absolutely absorbed in his animal-catching game, it was actually pretty peaceful.
In some ways, I think the teen years are even harder than the newborn and toddler years because there’s just so much going on, and sometimes it’s hard to remember what it was like to be that age. After all, fourteen was a lifetime ago. And fourteen was hard.
But I think in the end, days like this will count for something. I think in the end, days like this are what the kids will remember when they’re all grown up and struggling with how to raise their own kids. And I hope that, in the end, they’ll want to recreate days like these. Not the whole staying-home-with-a-sick-little-brother part, but the part where we had a ton of fun.
Days like these are what make family time so much fun, and life worth living. Days like these are when memories are made. Days like these are rare and special.
Days like these were meant to be treasured.
(c) 2017. All rights reserved.
I love the clickity-clack of high heels on marble floors, especially when they’re my high heels. Wearing them makes me feel very grown up, sophisticated, important. But I also feel like a bit of a fraud. I’ve been eighteen for fifteen years and still expect someone to see through me. Any moment now, someone will see that I have no idea what I’m doing; that, despite my best efforts, I don’t have this whole responsible adult thing figured out at all, not even a little bit; that I’m just a little girl playing dress-up in her mother’s closet. And when they figure it out, I just know it will be in front of a huge crowd of people and I’ll be humiliated, exposed for all the world to see.
I love the simple joy of the sun on my skin on a warm summer day. Alone in a meadow with the sun shining down on my upturned face, it’s easy to forget about the hustle and bustle of daily life. The birds sing gaily, their song carried far and wide by the gentle breeze, and there’s peace. My doubts can’t find me here; it’s just the sun and the birds and the grass and me, and there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.
(c) 2017. All rights reserved.
Er, well, Tuesday night, in this case.
Either way, this is pretty much how I’d like to spend it:

I don’t know if it’s the weather or what, but I’m just not feelin’ the whole responsible adult thing right now. Catch ya on the flip side!
(c) 2017. All rights reserved.
Did you know I have superpowers? I do! Really! 😀 They include, but are not limited to:
A while back, Seymour and I were discussing what our superpowers would be if we had them, which got me thinking about things I’ve done that a much younger me never ever even considered as life possibilities. We decided that my superpowers would involve bad jokes and grammar, and my new favorite joke was actually a product of this conversation:

Yes, yes, I know – they’re both groaners. But if I can’t let my nerd flag fly here, then where the heck can I?
How about you – what are your superpowers?
(c) 2017. All rights reserved.
A friend of mine posted the following on Facebook:
“Every year there are a lot of “my husband/partner gave me X today – he’s/she’s so wonderful!” on Valentine’s day*. And yes, my hubby brought home a dozen roses (and a giant penguin earlier in the week) and while those things are great, he is not a wonderful husband because of them. He’s a wonderful husband because he listens to me, even when he doesn’t care about what I’m saying. He hugs me when I’m sad, even if he has to stop what he’s doing. He wastes his day to take me pokemoning, when he’d rather be playing his video games. He works hard ten plus hours a day, without complaining (more than normal), then comes straight home. He doesn’t blow our money on booze, or drugs, or gambling, he doesn’t get into trouble. He’s monogamous. He’s smart, funny, and most of all, he tries – not just once a year, but 360 days (hey, everyone takes a few days off, right?) And for that, I am very lucky.
*I’m not knocking those posts. I think it’s sweet that the recipients are excited and grateful.”
I read it this morning and couldn’t help thinking of my husband. He really doesn’t do Valentine’s Day, which makes the fact that he brought me home a bouquet of tulips yesterday all the more surprising. Gift-giving on Valentine’s is expected, and he doesn’t like being expected to give me a gift just because society says he should.
When Seymour first explained how he feels about Valentine’s Day, I have to admit…
I saw this week’s Discover Challenge post about transcribingmemory about a day after I had discovered the site for myself. Being a huge fan of diaries, and having kept diaries of my own since I was eight, I knew this was a challenge I could have a lot of fun with. I may not be nearly as devoted to my diaries as I was before I had kids, but I do still write in them every now and then, and this challenge provided me with the kick in the pants I needed to sit down and read through some of my old, old, OLD writing once again.
I learned a few things from reading my old diaries, like…