Christmas Apologies

I hear the song “Christmas Time is Here” several times a week—almost daily—during the month of December. My special needs son is a Peanuts head. He has perfect pitch and a great talent for mimicking voices. Next time you want to hear Charlie Brown music, just ask. He serenaded my friend thing morning…
No, the singing isn’t what I want to apologize for. (Unless, uh… it really hurts your ears.)
I would like to confess a prior judgmental attitude. I’ve freed myself of it and wish to publicly say I’m sorry. I came to the realization of the errors of my thinking a couple years ago, but still held on to that “it won’t be me” attitude.
I’M SORRY TO ALL THOSE PEOPLE OVER THE COURSE OF MY LIFETIME THAT I THOUGHT REALLY DIDN’T CARE BECAUSE THEY ONLY GAVE ME A CHRISTMAS CARD WITH THEIR NAMED SIGNED IN IT!
There.
It’s out.
I judged.
And now I am guilty of the same offense—even worse!
This year I handed out/mailed a pre-printed Kodak Christmas card (with my kidlets picture on it, of course) to 98% of the people on my list. I didn’t even have to sign my name on it—I only addressed the envelopes! And I didn’t do a year-in-review family letter to go with it.
Yes, it’s been sneaking up on me. Here’s my sad tale:
Once upon a time, I mulled over a personalized paragraph for each recipient of a Christmas card.
After one child, the cards just had a couple lines—and a wallet-sized photo of the darling kidlet.
Two kids = bigger photo and maybe a sentence in greeting/closing.
Three kids = a half-way decent picture of the three of them or all separate on a collage picture card if they weren’t cooperative… and about half the people on the list got an actual paper card as well. Here’s a sample from 2009, doctored to protect the innocent:

This year is the year of the photo card, with few exceptions.
Maybe it’s the wordsmith in me, but I used to think that if someone didn’t care enough to at least write me a little note, why bother to give me the card. I showed them love and appreciation by writing them a few words of reflection or hope—wasn’t I worth that effort on their part?
So, yeah…
Life happens.
My daily list of tasks to accomplish swells.
As I mature, my ability to love grows and my circle of family and friends expands with that love.
AND I DO CARE, EVEN IF I DIDN’T SIGN MY NAME!
In closing I want your thoughts. Is it better to keep a circle small in order to pad a Christmas card with words or share a short greeting (or three smiling faces) with a wider group of people?

It's been another whirlwind month. Mobile Writers Guild events and planning meetings, field trips and social outings for the kidlets, plus my own milestones.

Last week I sent the complete Corroded manuscript to Laurie Halse Anderson. It arrived at her address Saturday the 15th. So the waiting game is on to hear her critique.

In an attempt to keep from thinking about my story being in the hands of one of my writing heroes, I treated myself to a free concert at the National Shrimp Festival in Gulf Shores Saturday evening.
And, of course, I had another experience!
I was able to meet the members of Firehouse before and after the show. The other guys signed the “vintage” flier that C.J. Snare signed at the show on October 12, 1991 (the last time I saw them—20 years ago!) as well as a CD booklet I brought along and the new CD I bought at the show. C.J. still has his voice, Bill wailed on the guitar, Michael hammered the drums, and Allen played a mean bass. They rocked harder than ever!

Love music, love great people! Hang with me if you want to catch Fantabutitus!

Yellow-coated Fluff

Spring is great—for the most part.

I dread what spring means—summer is coming. During spring, I typically mope around mourning the loss of whatever tidbit of winter we were blessed to have been given over the past few months. Autumn, on the other hand, is a rebirth. Returning to nature after being trapped inside because the mosquitoes and humidity are too much to bear—especially when children are in your care.

But this month I've been focusing on the event of spring itself—not the dreaded summer lurking around the next calendar pages. We've been doing tons of outdoor activities from gardening to nature hikes to enjoy the moderate temperatures and the flowering abundance.

Go seize your pollen-covered day!

How the New Year Goes

Here it is, the start of the second week of a new year, and I'm nursing a sprained ankle. Fortunately, it's not the worst I've twisted the delicate joint, but it's still a pain to deal with when there are stairs in the house and multiple children to keep up with. And I've used my down time these past twenty-four hours to do extra reading as well as scanning old photos to upload into my computer. So, it hasn't been all swelling and tears.

The past month has been busy with family and church and friends. Just in the past week I've settled back into the typical routine with the kids, including homeschooling the oldest. The middle child is back at preschool three days a week and the youngest is obsessed with Pinkalicious. We read it several times a day.

As for my own reading, I'm caught up with all the issues of Children's Writer newsletter and nearly up-to-date on my other subscriptions. I read the second book in The Luxe series, Rumors. (Yes, I was sucked into it after the first and now I need to find the third and fourth books to complete reading the story.) And I also read Edges a debut novel by Lena Roy. She does have one of those fancy slash lines over the “e” in her name, but I've yet to figure out how to apply that on the computer.

Edges is one of those novels that is little on the outside but big on the inside. The characters are deep and complicated. They deal with both family and personal issues, including grief, alcoholism, and recovery. The whole story unfolds like a camelia blossom. By the time the center is exposed, you are wishing to cup the bloom in the palm of your hands to protect it from blowing apart in the winter winds because even though the ending is positive, you know the road is a difficult one for Luke, Eva, and their families.


Update on my writing projects:

Finished and submitted my nonfiction article, which will run in the NARB section of the March issue of Souvenirs, Gifts & Novelty magazine. My article on Autism friendly products has already been accepted and received praise from NARB board members. I'll post a l ink to it when it is available.

As for the status of Corroded—it's a few pages longer than it was at the time of my last blog post. Enough said.

I did open a poll after my last entry asking if those readers out there wanted me to post my first professionally published piece and the votes were all in the affirmative.

The following is my personal essay as it appeared in the July/August 2005 issue of TALL magazine.

Teen Totem

Your shoe catches on the door as you’re leaving Geometry. Able to steady yourself, you save the shame of falling into the hallway and exchange it for a few giggles from the girls behind you.

On the way to your locker a freshman jumps out of your path, evidently terrified of the giant headed his way.

“How’s the weather up there?” an immature senior calls out. His only response is the laughing of his friends. As if you haven’t heard that one before!

All this and it’s not even lunchtime yet!

If things like this happen to you, welcome to life with the most ghastly genetic disease among girls: tallness! Height can attract unsolicited stares and comments, which have the power to create emotional storms. It’s like being doomed to carry an orange umbrella, rain or shine. You’re bound to feel hideously awkward at some times, if not all of the time, as you stand out above the crowd. You receive so much attention when you’d rather shrink into the student body. Instead, you’re the totem pole in the school village.

Facing school every morning was a stomach-churning experience for me ever since elementary school. Several times I was in combination classrooms and lining up for class pictures was a nightmare each year. As a first grader I was the freak standing in the top row with the second grade boys. As a fourth and fifth grader I was in a fourth through sixth grade class. No matter what type of hunch I contorted into my observant teacher lead me towards the front of the line. Dear Miss Sawyer… she thought I should be proud of my height. How could she know the troubles when she was only five feet three? Because she’d been the young girl looking up at her tall friends wishing she would grow a few more inches.

The classic “I can’t see around her” can be an issue through the years. During school it may cause you to slouch in your chair or walk with your shoulders hunched. You prefer poor posture to “Teacher, she’s too tall! I can’t see the board.” I know I did! Life was much easier when I was bent over my paper or sitting in the back row. But outside of school the extra height proved invaluable. It’s easier to spot your car in a busy parking lot, and at entertainment events you always have a good view. Attending concerts was one of the most comfortable experiences of my early years. I was thankful for my height and actually felt sorry for the shorter people behind me.

Have you ever been embarrassed by your shoe size? I was mortified because I wore a size ten shoe and my feet were still growing. Most of the time I’d wear men’s athletic footwear, trying to convince myself my feet were only an eight and a half. Attending church and rare social events presented the problem of finding shoes in my size that didn’t add more than half an inch to my height or look like something my grandmother would wear. Feet can cause more emotional rain to pour. If your shoes were any bigger they’d be used as boats to navigate the floodwaters. But next time you see a picture of a supermodel on the runway look down at her feet. More than likely she’s working double digits in those heels.

Physical Education was the lowest point during the school day. When you’re tall people assume you play a sport and play it well. My lack of athletic capabilities lowered my G.P.A. each semester. One time when our class was dividing into volleyball teams I heard a girl say “She’s tall, pick her for our team.” But it was followed by a quick “No, she can’t play.” That day I was the last person standing in the middle of the court. The teacher had to assign me to a team and the other members groaned in protest. I think there’s a stain where I melted into the wood floor: another rain puddle. Everyone can’t be gifted in sports, though. I managed to make honor roll each semester even with my C’s in P.E. Where are your strong points?

Some psychologists say the use of any nicknames is demeaning, such as calling a child “pumpkin” can leave the young mind questioning her mother’s reason in referring to her as a fruit. Other people report that nicknames, not name calling, show others they are loved. I personally like inventing nicknames for other people… but don’t usually appreciate the names chosen for me! Having names like “Jolly Blond Giant”, “Tall One” or “Carrie is so very… tall!” shouted at me between classes was humiliating. What burned even more was that the friends calling me such titles had dainty names like “Tinker Bell” for themselves. I later learned that sometimes the trait people tease us about is often the thing they admire the most.

In the decade since high school I’ve been able to dump most of the baggage from my traumatized youth. Standing six feet tall has gotten easier thanks to a change of heart and environment- physical differences don’t mean so much as people mature. The most difficult thing has been relearning appropriate posture. I still have to remind myself to stand up straight and sit correctly. Today, I’m not ashamed to say I have size eleven wide shoes, though it’s still difficult to find shoes I like and I do revert to men’s shoes sometimes. Thankfully the nickname that stuck through the years is “Care Bear”, not one of the gangly terms. And more importantly, I have the knowledge of what it’s like to grow-up different. All these experiences will help during my current challenge of raising a special needs child. We all carry an orange umbrella; some of ours are just a little higher than others. At least up here it’s easier to spot the silver linings!


P.S. I'm excited to see the photo option is working, once again. I'll go add the pictures I wanted to add to my last few posts.

Christmas Time is Here

The juggling routine is improving. I've managed to write several pages this week, on both fiction and non-fiction projects. Hooray for me!

The things I've been reading on the side are:

Teach Me by R.A. Nelson

For my fluffy book (I have to indulge myself every so often) I just started The Luxe by Anna Godbersen. YA historical but I had to try to book just based on the cover. I've had my eyes on it since it came out.

And then there is the December issue of the Ensign magazine, in which a small article of mine was published.Check it out at:
lds.org/churchmagazines/EN_2010_12_25___09212_000_037.pdf

This is my second paid for/published item. My first was a personal essay in the final issue of TALL magazine back in 2005. If there is an interest (be sure to vote on the side bar) I'll post that essay on here next time.

My plan is to attempt to finish the first draft of Corroded by the end of the year but I'm not going to let it bother me if that doesn't happen. I also need to finish a magazine article that is already accepted by the National Association of Retail Buyers (NARB) for publication in their March 2011 feature.

Which reminds me, I didn't want the month to pass without posting a MERRY CHRISTMAS to everyone. The kids and I have been enjoying the season including special crafts, driving at night to look for lights, and Christmas music (the favorite among the younger crowd is the Charlie Brown Christmas album). This is the only Christmas my children will be 12, 5, and 2 so I plan on enjoying it, no matter what else is going on in my world.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Hope everyone had a magical weekend. Here's a peek at one of our seasonal adventures.





On a side note, if you put both an orange and a vanilla flavored Tootsie Fruit Roll in your mouth at the same time it tastes like an orange creamsicle.


Autumn on the Gulf Coast came and went and came and... I hope it sticks around this time! The crisp weather of fall (if we're lucky enough to receive typical seasonal weather) is invigorating. I usually get inspirational writing boosts this time of year but it hasn't happened yet. So, I'm sitting at my desk with the table top fan blowing on my face, praying for the courage to step forward with my WIP. I haven't made major progress on Corroded (because of other projects—and laziness) in at least two months. This blog is my jumping point to get back into the swing of things. I need to face the climax of the novel and conquer!

Even growing up in the also sporadic climate of coastal California, inspiration happened this time of year. I believe I began each of my novel length stories in the fall, starting at fifteen years old. The bulk of my poetry was written in autumn, with a generous helping of winter and some spring sprinkled in. Flipping through my poetry notebook I can count on one hand the poems written during the summer months. And speaking of poetry, I haven't written a cataloged poem since I was pregnant with my oldest in 1998. Question to self: What's up with that?!

But for now, I've got a terrifically awful poem to share. Remember, these poems are two decades old in some cases. Don't hold it against me! This one happens to be from the autumn I started college, at seventeen years old.

Breath of Life


Days do ever pass
Leaves turn golden and fall
Attending our last class
Is a walk down an endless hall

Sometimes it will seem
Like it's you against the rest
But your light will forever beam
You know you're one of the best

So keep in touch
With that strong sensation
It will give you much
Over-powering elation

Soggy Blog

Yawn. It's close to bedtime but I haven't written anything more than a few e-mails and a FaceBook status today. The need to put thoughts into words, to feel the letters and spaces flow effortlessly through my finger tips, was too difficult to ignore.

Sometimes I feel the need to write on paper. The mesh of print/cursive—that I was always corrected by the students for using when substituting in elementary school—is therapeutic some days. Especially when using one of my favorite Profile Paper Mate pens. The act of moving the pen over paper is art itself.

But other times, like tonight, I need the soft music of the keyboard—the gentle sound created is just enough to fill the void on a finally quiet night. Seeing the words fill the screen allows me to feel that I'm accomplishing something, even though I cheat and use a size 14 font.

It's been a long day. From standing in line at the local Wal-Mart Supercenter for 30 minutes because their debit/check/credit card server was down to having to rush to a pediatrician appointment for the princess (no worries, it was her two year check-up) to dealing with the oldest child's meltdown (and not backing down on the repercussions.) Yes, it's been a long day!

And why am I blabbing about nothing? I suppose it's about writing and life, as usual, but there is a deeper meaning behind this blog.

PROCRASTINATION.

Plain and simple. I'm avoiding my W.I.P. because I've spent over a month working on a short story. And this past week I've added a non-fiction magazine article to the mix so Corroded has been wilting in the heat of the southern summer. Well, hopefully its smoldering, but I feel so removed from it that I can't help but think it's less than it was... that I'm not able to return to the hundred plus pages without the storyline falling into the abyss of flatly written mush.

So, instead I choose to write a squishy blog. At least I've filled up a page in my document file. Any writing counts, right?

And to go along with this soggy puddle, here's the first poem I have record of writing, way back at eleven years old.


Trees

Trees grow, very slow.
By the sea and by me.
They grow in lawns and by ponds.
Very slow do they grow.

Turning a New Page in Life

My somber previous post has scared me away from blogging. But there's now a (leaky) cap on the gushing BP oil well, so that's a bit of an improvement. Enough said, there isn't much Pollyanna in me about that issue. But here is a link to a haunting song by Mithril, inspired by the oil spill. The images on the video are all from better days gone by on local beaches. (My three kids each have a picture included.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UhlEV6xoPo




This week marks my first attempt at homeschooling my twelve-year-old son. He has a Neuro Immune Dysfunction, which causes autistic behaviors and has been receiving special services through the public school system since he was three. But there is no way I am going to send my sweet, innocent boy into the whirlwind of middle school. I've known I was going to homeschool him for the past year—and have been studying all I can on the subject and networking as much as possible for this socially awkward mother—but I spent most of my free time (amid numerous events and sick children) last week charting out an actual weekly planning page—a hybrid of a dozen I've looked at—and choosing the first week's goals. And, I must admit, I also zoned out on Free Cell several times. I wrote absolutely nothing on my WIP and barely logged one journal entry in my notebook.

There is a time and a season for everything, and right now I need to restructure my day to fit it all in. I need to decide if I'll write in the morning before the kids wake, which has been my exercise time, or attempt writing at night, when my mind is mostly mush, since quiet time might need to be used for one-on-one with the eldest. It's a good thing Laurie Halse Anderson's WFMAD is next month—I need some motivation!

Back to the homeschooling experience. Day One=Field trip!
Community experiences at the post office, pediatrician's office, pharmacy, and mall. Walking the mall was the fitness time for the day, too. At home, we took turns reading two books about farmers and pigs, and I let him flip through a third. Our unit study/theme is farms, which is something he loves. He copied twelve spelling words (taken from the farm books) three times and did thirty-five addition problems as part of a math review. And there were no meltdowns—success!

I praised him throughout the day and before bed I asked him if he liked doing work at home. He said yes and smiled. A warm fuzzy!


On a personal note, I've finally gotten around to some lighter--but deep--reading.













as well as





Still many more books on my library list and on my own shelves to read.


In honor of the fiftieth anniversary of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee I'm closing with one of a series of five poems I wrote for a freshman high school report. Each poem had to be from a different character's perspective. Give me a break, I was only fourteen....


Personal Guide

Watching you grow up,
that's what it's all about.
Teaching you,
watching you learn.
No matter what you do,
I'll always be here for you.

I was put on Earth to guide you.
So come, little children,
stay close to my side.
It's a wicked world
and I don't want to lose you
to its powerful influence.

But don't be afraid,
I'll help you..
If there is any doubt in your mind,
just stay close, my child.
That's what I'm ere for;
a parent is a guide.

The Dreaded Year-end Blog

Or shall we call it “The New Beginnings Blog”?
Yes, that's much better. See, barely a year older and already wiser.

Speaking of birthdays, here's a picture of my most awesome gift.



I'd get frustrated with it but it's too much fun. Whoever created this is an evil genius.



Since I changed my New Year's resolutions into birthday goals, I pulled out the dusty list and decided what was mastered, what needed continual coverage, and what had to be ditched. Here's the latest line-up.

For my “physical” goal, I dumped the “get below ___” and have set in place actual monthly mile goals, as well as how many times a month, to chart my exercise. Life is too short to live by numbers, whether it's counting calories or trying to get those last five (or twenty, or more...) pounds off before you can feel totally happy with yourself. Just give me jeans that don't create a muffin-top effect and a shirt that doesn't make me look six months pregnant and I feel great. But I must admit, it's getting harder to find those clothes...

“Mental” was difficult to keep (no snide remarks, please!)—reading one non-fiction book a month. Some months I read more than one and other months I was lucky to keep up with my scripture studies and my few magazine/newsletter subscriptions (which are non-fiction). So, I'm keeping it simple: Keep learning!

“Spiritual” is a keeper. I still need to improve the quality of my prayers. It's just too easy to whisper a quick “thank you” and snuggle into bed at night. Or keep hitting snooze until all the kids are running around and I forget to start the day on my knees.

For the “emotional” aspect of life I've broadened my goal to include more things but removed the actual time constraints. So, instead of completing an emotional inventory once a month (I only got around to doing two this past year) I'll “keep track of my emotional state by regular (how's that for a cop out?) journal keeping, testing, and meditation.” In case you were wondering, I do the Beck Depression Inventory and Burns Anxiety Inventory tests to track my ups and downs, as suggested by a great counselor many years ago. But that's another entry...

“Social”: I totally suck with all things social. I'm keeping my dinky goal of having one date with my husband a month because I really need to work on spending quality time with my man. And I'm too much of a wallflower to attempt weekly/monthly social gatherings.

I think “Family” is the only goal I excelled at. We are in the habit of weekly Family Home Evenings so I'm upping the goal to have daily devotionals. Just a mini something, beyond the reading of a verse or two of scriptures before bed I already do with the kids. I'll be homeschooling my oldest next school year (yet another future entry) so the daily devotionals would work well into a schooling schedule.

“Financial” is tough. Didn't meet the goal but I'm thinking positively and increasing—actually decreasing—the numbers. Oh, those pesky numbers again! Didn't I just write something about life being too short to live by numbers. Might need to rethink this one...

I came close to meeting my “professional” goal. I wanted to complete the first draft—I'm about two-thirds of the way through—of Corroded, my WIP (work in progress). My new goal is to have Corroded polished in time for the 2011 submission deadline for the Delacorte contest. Hopefully the publishing company will keep that contest going, but if not, I'll look for an agent or submit elsewhere. Delacorte offers a yearly prize for the best contemporary teen book for a first time novelist. The winner is published with an advance as the prize money. Since that goal will actually extend beyond my next birthday—submission is in the fall—I've also added to begin my historical fiction novel, which I've been researching/thinking/planning/etc on for the past couple years. Plus, I will be open to submitting short pieces for publication or contests when the opportunities arise, but I don't want to add in a goal for those. Less stress.


Feel free to urge me along with these goals. Keep me on task by asking me how something is going. I do much better at staying focused when I have someone checking on me. That's why my BFF (Blog Free February) was so successful—I felt I had to answer to Laurie Halse Anderson.


On to other things...

I've read several interesting books in the past month.

The Map of True Places by Brunonia Barry kept me as interested in the story as The Lace Reader, her first book.

It always helps when Hawthorne references are thrown in but the mental issues driving the story were well crafted by themselves. The fact that I visited Salem two years ago makes her books that much easier to visualize while reading. Brunonia's books are two out of maybe six “adult” fiction books I've read in the past year or more. They aren't squeaky clean, so reader beware.


From the local library I borrowed The Art and Craft of Writing Historical Fiction by James Alexander Thom.

His actual novels are now on my to read list. The book is a great source of information and easily digested. I even read it before bed several times instead of my usual fluffy reading.


Speaking of fluff, my last nighttime read was the type of novel I'd usually skip. But since I was lucky enough to get an advanced reader's copy (which I also got for The Map of True Places) I tried it out. One of those upper class high school novels... it's called She's So Dead to Us, written by Kieran Scott.

It's better than I expected—stayed up three nights in a row, way past my usual lights out, to read. But even though the ending was more of a beginning (sequel/series in the works, I'm sure) it's not something I'll seek out again.

Tonight I'll start When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead because Newbery winners seldom disappoint. Another library selection.


A few other things of interest that happened in April:



I saw my first 3-D movie since Captain Eoo at Disneyland in the mid 1980s. Alice in Wonderland was great! The technology and the story were a great match. I loved the older Alice and how the movie started and ended. Still not my favorite Johnny Depp performance, though. That goes to Benny and Joon.




Took a day trip to New Orleans to spend a few hours with my awesome cousin who was down south from out west on business. We hadn't seen each other since a reunion in 1994, I think it was. I'd have to check the cow shirt to be sure...

The family spent “A Day Out with Thomas” one rainy Saturday afternoon. The kids LOVED all the trains, especially the ride on Thomas the Tank Engine, even though he was terribly SLOW.

Spent a dozen collective hours at the Little League park.

And all the kids went to the dentist for cleanings, the youngest for the first time. We'll be dealing with a cavity-filling appointment in the future. Gag.




No, they aren't that bad on the little princess's teeth. This pictures makes me feel a little better, though.

Wow! It looks like I need to return to blogging more often. This blog is huge!

Sand Castle Dreams

I played in the sand this evening. Up to my elbows and across my lap. I didn't worry about getting gritty—I only cared about sharing a memory with my kids and reconnecting with my inner-child.

There was a fair amount of rain earlier today. Not enough to create standing water but it soaked the ground just right. The “sand pit” in the yard was perfect for building tunnels and towers. So down I went. A pale dusting of sand covered my black crop pants within seconds. By the time the first tunnel was constructed, and the Matchbox van successfully pushed through, damp sand clung to my bare arms. Somewhere between the second tunnel and the sandcastle mound the grit worked its way down my shirt. It might have happened when I grabbed the littlest Godzilla before she could collapse the prized passages.

By the time we were finished, I was far dirtier than the kids . Instead of trying to brush the sand off I rubbed it between my hands and fingers, then up and down my arms. My skin is now smoother than it's been for ages.




On a different note:

Yesterday I finished reading Alice I Have Been by Melanie Benjamin. It's a historical novel about the life of Alice Liddell, who was the inspiration for Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. What could have become a scandalous story was treated with dignity. The emotions were sensual and honest but the whole story was respectful. The ending unveils what I wish to believe of Mr. Do-do-dodgson and young Alice.

I Did It!

I survived Blog Free February, with the bonus of not using social networking sites. But to be fair, I must list my infractions.

I cheated day one, February first, only to check Laurie Halse Anderson's Live Journal site to see if she posted about Blog Free February since she didn't over the weekend. She'd posted, calling for her readers everywhere to decrease their internet time to increase their creative productivity. I was geared up and wrote two and a half pages that day—more than twice my regular amount.

February tenth I received a message from from our dear old Facebook stating that my BFF from elementary school was requesting friendship. I went to that acceptance page only. Then, I sent an e-mail to tell her I wouldn't be on FB until next month.

On February eleventh a cousin tagged me in a photo on pesky FB and one of my sisters and another cousin commented on the photo. I gave in to the curiosity and looked at the photo page and was rewarded by a black and white group shot of more than a dozen cousins from a family reunion circa 1982. And yes, I did leave a comment that it looked like I was pulling out a wedgie.

February nineteenth a BFF from middle school requested my FB friendship so, once again, I logged on to the friendship request page only. (Blog Free February didn't mean I had to ignore my BFFs.) And while I was there I went ahead and friended all the other people who had requested I add them over the last few weeks. Yes, I had ignored many other FB requests.


And the results of my month long effort. Drum roll, please...

I doubled the productivity of my most successful writing month (since I've kept track of my page counts last fall.) More than tripled my average writing page count per month. I actually wrote while the kids were all awake during the day and after they were all asleep several times. I'd been limiting myself to nap-time only writing for some silly reason.

I've listened to more music than I have in the last few years, partly due to my new iPod and iTunes account. With my complete music collection on my computer it's easy to listen and find inspiration while working. Long live Mitch Malloy!

Plus, I increased my mileage for exercising. Since I wasn't checking several sites first thing in the morning (and didn't have half a dozen or more e-mails about follow-up comments on FB) I had more time to devote to my workout before the kids woke up.

I've decided what I can live without: TMI and information over-load.

Aside from hiding the apps on FB (which I've been doing for months) I'll be hiding some people from my news feed to cut down on the time I spend catching up with family scattered across the states and close-to-my-heart-but-far-way friends. I think I concurred the need to scroll through every posting since last visit. But in case my OCD flares and I get the urge to do so, having less people on the news feed page will shorten the time doing so.

Twitter I was only checking once a day, but I could easily go a day or more without it. It's diffidently a good networking tool so I want to keep it around.

As for blogging... I won't try to post weekly but I'm sure I'll blog at least once or twice a month. I'll probably drop a couple of the blogs I've been following, too.

On a side note, I've been awake for several hours and haven't checked FB or Twitter of any blogs. But I will as soon as I post this. :)

You Want Me to Do What?!

My post last week sparked some interesting conversations. I had more feedback than ever before, thank you Megan for commenting so many times, including a response from Laurie Halse Anderson. LHA is one of my writing heroes—it was super generous of her to offer me advice. THANK YOU!

Besides LHA's comment on my post (go back and read it if you haven't) she added the ideas into her own blog http://halseanderson.livejournal.com/279838.html and is calling for a Blog Free February.

I am going to accept the “BFF” challenge—including NOT reading blogs—as well as take a hiatus from Twitter and Facebook. I'll still use my e-mail and internet since I use both for conducting the businesses of life (critique group, financial, etc) but will do so sparingly.

It would be great if everyone I know takes this challenge so I don't miss any news/tidbits as posted in said places. (Yeah, I know... fat chance!)

But for now, here's the latest from my reading corner:

I'm reading The Actor and the Housewife by Shannon Hale and laughing a lot during the evening hours. It's an honest look at the inner workings of a religious wife/mother, with a ton of humor and fairytale-ish happenings. Charmingly deep. Deeply charming.

The daytime reading, besides scripture study, is The ABCs of Writing for Children complied by Elizabeth Koehler-Pentacoff. The collected quotes make it perfect for stop-n-go reading while mothering the little princess, and princes, too.

New Year, Better Me

I skipped last week. And I don't want to muddle through any hum-drum excuses or anything. (Cough. Cough.)

All the blogs I read have posts wrapping up the blogger's 2009 thoughts so I figured I'll actually go along with a trend.

I've enjoyed a year of raising kids and appreciating the differences between boys and girls, now that I finally have a girl.

Read lots of books, as usual. Too many to name, but Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson was the most haunting. I'll try to start mentioning what I'm reading with each post.

Writing—yes!!! I joined the local Writer's Guild and was honored in being extended a spot in a small critique group.

I actually went to the movie theater TWICE. Of course both movies were for books (in two different series) I enjoy. Can you guess which ones?

I've improved my health and am sticking with regular exercise.

My life-list for bird watching is now at seventy-six species I've identified.

I've been able to complete numerous knitting projects and feel like I might be ready to advance to more varied patterns.

My husband and I celebrated thirteen years together a few weeks ago.

And... a bunch of other things. You can go back and read my previous posts if you really want to know more.

Love and best wishes for a productive 2010 to all—especially to Katherine Paterson as she takes over the position as the National Ambassador for Children's Literature.

Visions of clutter danced in her head...

Why is it that whenever I try to organize my desk I end up with more piles of stuff to go through than before? I've allowed the papers and books that need filing and sorting to pile up over the last few weeks. Because of the clutter I've avoided my desk the last five days. Sunday night I decided to tackle the issue after I got the kids to sleep. I'm down to three semi-orderly stacks.

On top of the regular mess are stacks of Christmas cards, Christmas stationary, and Christmas coloring/activity books for the kids.

I remember the days when I'd have all my Christmas envelopes addressed before Thanksgiving. I don't even have a great picture of the kids to order prints from. And I can't decide if I'll be doing standard cards or Christmas letters or photo cards.

About the photo experiences I mentioned last week—my high hopes were shattered. A toddler is harder than an infant needing support! Plus, when I'd say someone's name to get them to look at me the other two would look at the one I called, not at the camera. At least I know they all can smile and look at the camera... just not at the same time!

Kodak Moments

This week I have the daunting task of taking a group shot of the kids. Not just any shot, but one that's worthy to stuff inside countless Christmas cards and hang on the bulletin board at the pediatrician's office.

Taking a picture of one child is easy.

Two kids, not so bad.

Three makes me appreciate the freedom and cost saving benefits of a digital camera.

Last year I took close to a hundred pictures over two separate days. I quit before tears could turn to wailing—several of us were on the verge of crying. I settled for a picture that none of them were blinking, and the boys were both smiling and looking at the camera. The princess, well, she was looking at the Christmas tree.
Mental note- stand in front of the tree when trying to get a baby's attention.

Here's a sample of one of the better pictures, altered to protect the guilty and for therapeutic reasons:



Yes, I caught the baby before she fell over!

I think this year will be slightly easier. Last year I was dealing with a princess who had to be held by her brother and a year-three-old. Is it just me or are three-year-olds more “terrible” than two-year-olds?

This year it's eleven years, four years, and fourteen months. It could result in extra pain and suffering, since the youngest is now able to run away, but I'm going to keep my expectations high.

I might even attempt to take the picture while on an outing to our favorite location. That would mean dressing the kids in respectable clothing and keeping them clean while we tramp around in search of the perfect photo spot. Visions of Mrs. Tabitha Twitchit setting her kittens loose in the garden while she finishes preparing tea come to mind.

Might need to rethink that idea...

Surfer Girl

I took last week off to recuperate from a family weekend in New Orleans. We celebrated my middle child's fourth birthday by going to both the Audubon Zoo and Aquarium. The kids had a blast, and so did Mommy and Daddy. We all love animals—even the little princess. Her favorite word right now is “turtle”. She used to say “fish” but since she learned how to say “turtle” everything in the water is a turtle. So, here's a picture of a group of “turtles” eating broccoli from a diver at the Audubon Aquarium of the Americas. Love those smiles.

As for my writing life... it ebbs and flows. Last week the tide was out—wrote a little over a page, total, on my WIP. This week I have big plans, so I'm starting it off right with my Monday blogging (to be posted on Tuesday). I even did a page of journal writing yesterday.

In my defense, the princess is teething—cutting four side molars. Last week she was a screaming, clingy, feverish, non-long-nap-taking banshee. So, besides being tired from the mini-vacation I had my hands full with the littlest. And then the tiny birthday party for the four year old. Plus my oldest... well, he was in school a good deal of the time and is holding steady.

So, since it's still quiet time, let me close this and see if I can add to the page count of my project.

No such luck—she's awake.

Halloween Haunts

Autumn has returned to the Gulf Coast. I hope it lasts this time!

I survived Halloween weekend. Yes, that's worth noting. There are two candy-monsters under the age of four in my house. (The oldest child only likes suckers—yes, an actual perk of his sensory/eating issues.) We did a church sponsored fall event Friday night and then went to a local family attraction for trick-or-treating Saturday evening. Plus my husband brought the boys to a few houses in his friends' neighborhood on the way home. It's more than I've ever done for Halloween.

I never went trick-or-treating as a child, and I turned out normal... well, sort of...
The neighborhood in California I spent most of the first 14 years of my life was the highest street on a hill—considered a mountain to some people. The deal was us kids got the leftover trick-or-treat candy so we picked out the good stuff at the store. I think eight kids is the most we ever got at our house, and that only happened once. I did wear costumes to school and since we got the big bowl of candy at the end of the evening I never had a desire to take my shy self “door-to-door scabbing” as I liked to call it. I'm pretty sure all my siblings went trick-or-treating with their friends at least once, though.

My favorite Halloween memory is from the home I lived in when I was in college. The house had a balcony across the front and you had to walk under the balcony to reach the front door. I spread a dark sheet across the second story railing and blew bubbles for trick-or-treatsters. It was challenging to time it right so the bubbles were at face level when they turned to leave. By then I'd be crouched down so they couldn't see me. The kids loved it—it brought smiles instead of scares, though it did startle some people at first. Good clean fun.

Love the weather but Halloween is a take-it-or-leave-it in my books. National Dress Like a Freak Day... maybe I could get excited about that. In the past twenty years I've only dressed up twice. Unless you count being a frazzled mother as a scary costume.



P.S. I got a response back a week or so ago from my September letter to Senator Sessions. It appears to be a standard form letter about health care rather than anything specific about mandatory vaccines that I wrote about. Hmmm...

Perfect Ten

Today is the National Day on Writing-- how cool is that?



http://www.ncte.org/dayonwriting

There are currently ten children from the ages of one to thirteen in my house, so that's all I can say at the moment!

Back at It

Last week I added two and a half pages to the first draft I've been working on for an extended amount of time (it's embarrassing to say how long). That's two pages more than the past several weeks combined. I joined a critique group last month and I figured I'd have an easy ride the first few months since I had four completed chapters.

When I submitted the second chapter to the group last week I realized I've used half my reserves. It took me an insane amount of time to get those forty-odd pages and I realized I need to get my fingers in gear so I don't look like a total washout with nothing to submit in another month.

I want to work on my novel at least four days a week. My goal is a completed first draft by my next birthday. If I keep to my minimum for four serious days a week (even if it's just fifteen minutes a day) I'll reach my goal with time to spare. Since I have three freakazoids running around the house I'll probably need to use that spare time.

*****

On September eighth I urged everyone to write their senators in regards to mandatory vaccines. I am happy to report that Senator Richard Shelby of Alabama responded to my letter. Part of his closing remarks are “Rest assured, I do not and will not support mandatory vaccination.” Let's hold him, and any other politician who claims such, accountable to that statement.

Who Done It?

I've been trying to figure out where the past week went. My Franklin-Covey day planner is littered with scribbles about the baby's naps, shopping (several times) at the seasonal children's consignment sale, and exercising.

Some of the one-time events were bringing my youngest to her one year check-up and attending the local writers' meeting.
The princess is now twenty-one pounds and six ounces and thirty inches tall.
I managed to write twice during the past seven days. Sad but true.

So, after watching Castle on ABC last night I'm revved up to have a killer week with writing. Castle is the only show I'm watching right now. It's not the greatest show in the world- all those have been canceled already. But it has enough charm, humor, and intrigue to keep me tuning in each Monday since it began last season.