Alphabet Blog

I've taken this from writer buddy Stephanie, who took it from another friend, etc but I changed a few alphabet words to mix it up a bit.

A. Age: I’m a bicentennial baby. You do the math.

B. Birth Order: 3^rd out of 4. Third is the nerd.

C. Chore that you hate: Cleaning tubs/showers. And bathing kids is my least favorite “mommy chore.” So glad they are getting older…

D. Dogs: They’re nice, but I don’t want to personally own one at this point in my life.

E. Essential start to your day: Alarm clock or kidlets.

F. Favorite color: Purple, with turquoise a close second.

G. Gold or Silver: Silver—or white gold.

H. Height: 5’12” baby!

I. Inspirations: Crisp, autumn-like weather with a nice breeze and music.

J. Job title: Which one? Wife, Mother, Writer,  Daughter, Sister, Aunt…

K. Kids: Three kidlets.

L. Live: Mobile, Alabama… or is that live—I love live music! Concerts are the best!

M. Marriage Status: Married, with children.

N. Nicknames: Care Bear is the most common, from multiple sources.

O. Overnight hospital stays: Five times, three from childbirth.

P. Pet peeves: Dishonesty: lie, cheat, or hold back the truth and I will not trust you.

Q. Quote from a movie: “As you wish.” I swoon for Westley.

R. Right or left handed: Right, though I always wished I was a lefty.

S. Secrets: I’ll never tell.

T. Time you wake up: Whenever I’m needed.

U. UFOs: Possibly, but not necessarily with little green men…

V. Vegetable you hate: Canned red beets. GAG.

W. What makes you run late: Kidlets—1, 2, 3, or all.

X. X-Rays you’ve had: Neck, back, and that lousy right ankle—I’ve sprained it three times.

Y. Yummy food that you make: Cookies! Nothing fancy, just the basics: chocolate chip, snickerdoodles, peanut butter, etc.

Z. Zoos or Aquariums: I love a good aquarium. It feels like I’m in a time warp, in another world,  and then the sun is SOOO bright when I step back outside—WHAM! Welcome back to Earth.

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?

September Madness

"The Month of Madness" is what September 2011 shall be known as in my life.
The month when this homebody was away as often as home during regular hours.
The month that forced this shy lady into several public speaking events.
The month my kids cried because I left them so often.
The month the grandparents were taken advantage of for free childcare. (Thanks, Nana and Grandpa!)

And right in the middle of the month the little princess celebrated her third birthday with a yard full of friends for an “Easter” party. Egg hunt, duckies, butterflies... and frilly dresses, too! I'd post pictures here, but, yeah, you know. I don't do that at this point.

Reading has been a lifesaver, once again. You can tell how crazy my life is by how much reading I'm doing. The only way to escape and unwind. I have to read myself to sleep, otherwise I'd just think myself into a frenzy every night. Anxiety sucks but it is good for increasing my reading progress.

A Need so Beautiful was a loaner book from a good friend. It took me a while to get into the character/voice, which isn't unusual for me—it just took over half the book instead of a few chapters this time. Loved the ending.

I reread Summer of the Swans, a classic Newbery winner. Loved it, once again. Most of my favorite novels are “middle readers”, usually the 10-14 age range.

And because I wanted to read more Joan Bauer books (see last post) I checked out Squashed and Close to Famous (her newest—still reading this one) from the local library.

I've also been reading Homeschool Your Child for Free (great purchase) and The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin (thank you Mobile Public Library) during the daytime, when I'm not running the roads. Which has been next to nothing this past week.

September 24 is the start of Banned Books Week. Search my blog for previous posts on this topic.

If you're on Facebook, you can find a public fan page for me and my writing. http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=home#!/pages/Carrie-Cox/182006808539156 But if you know me personally, I'll accept you as a friend on my “private” page. And feel free to link to my blog whenever. I appreciate all 20 of the listed followers here!

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.