In which some perspective is gained...sort of

If You Give A Mom A Muffin
by Kathy Fictorie
If you give a mom a muffin,
She’ll want a cup of coffee to go with it.
She’ll pour herself some.
Her three-year-old will spill the coffee.
She’ll wipe it up.
Wiping the floor, she’ll find dirty socks.
She’ll remember she has to do laundry.
When she puts the laundry in the washer,
She’ll trip over boots and bump into the freezer.
Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan for supper.
She will get out a pound of hamburger.
She’ll look for her cookbook (“101 Things To Do With a Pound of Hamburger”).
The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail.
She will see the phone bill, which is due tomorrow.
She will look for her checkbook.
The check book is in her purse that is being dumped out by her two-year-old.
She’ll smell something funny.
She’ll change the two year old’s diaper.
While she is changing the diaper, the phone will ring.
Her five-year-old will answer and hang up.
She’ll remember she wants to phone a friend for coffee.
Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup.
And chances are…
If she has a cup of coffee,
Her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it.

I am impressed by her creativity...and spot on assessment.

I didn't have a whole lot to say today, but I realized something in the middle of an exhausted haze. (see: random midnight poopy diaper and corresponding wide awake son for the rest of the night)
(see also: any and all grammar, spelling, or punctuation issues are results of said exhausted haze)
Other than the absolutely brainy lightbulb moment when I realized, "Oh wow. I guess I'm just really tired," I also concluded that it's okay to need time and space for myself. As long as that is not my biggest focus - i.e. my children and husband are number two and three respectively. If you don't know my number one priority, I am not shouting it loud enough.

I get that I am a wife and mother. I understand I am a woman of faith and responsible for maintaining my priorities in the correct order.

I also get that I'm human. And it's okay for me to be - for lack of a better word - human. I'm not going to get lightning striking me when I have a selfish moment. I won't be chastised or rebuked for liking my silence and solitude - especially since I don't have much of it nowadays.

I know that when I'm well-rested and refreshed from my quiet times, I respond with greater positivity to the situations and circumstances that surround me.

One of my aunts and I talked today for a little while. I liked what she told me, because I need to remember it more often. I may respond better in the rested times, but I also need to know that those times are not always available - especially in this phase of life. (see: zombie mom with smalls) However, it is my reaction during those exhausted, zombie-like times of life that are the true measure of my character and selflessness.

I will never be a mom who sends her kids to day care and spends all week long on manicures, book clubs, and living it up. Don't get me wrong; those things are not bad at all. I just know that for me, those things are not going to mean much in the light of my eternal perspective. And I need to remember that the eternal perspective is SO much bigger.

That's why I still love my kids and my husband after a long and exhausting day. That's why my housework fades into the background while I read the wonderful adventures of Winnie-the-Pooh - for the 5 millionth time. That's why my exhaustion may make me lose perspective - and well, everything else along the way - but it will not be permanent and it WILL pass.

Hey, I had time to write this blog didn't I?

Maybe I just need a refresher course on time management.

In which I lament a good cup of coffee gone cold...

I'm awake in the stillness that occurs only in the rare moments when my beautiful children sleep. I argued with myself this morning about the benefits versus the problems involving a few extra moments of rest. Instead of shutting my eyes again, I decided to listen to a sermon while drinking a cup of coffee. I made extra this morning, thinking the husband might need an energy boost. He left the extra.

It must be God.

So I cuddled down in my blankets and turned on iTunes where my podcasts are all stored. Instead of cupping my coffee in my hands like I usually do, I put it up on the shelf behind my head to get comfortably situated.

I then promptly forgot about it...

I know. I know. My readers are probably wondering just how you can forget about a good, hot cup of coffee...

My only excuse is that I'm still tired. Five hours of sleep will do that to a person, especially when they are not restful hours.

The coffee still tastes good...sort of. It's just like an iced coffee with no ice and nothing to sweeten the bitter flavor after a cup sits and cools for a while.

So not really an iced coffee.

My life kind of gets like that iced/not-iced coffee sometimes. The flavor is still there, hidden beneath bitter and cooling layers. Those bitter and cooling layers could be anything from a serious need for attitude adjustments (both me AND my kids) to lack of sleep (which is mostly my fault and can lead to the whole adjustment of my attitude) to a cold cup of coffee when I get too busy or distracted to remember it. At the risk of sounding shallow, I hate cold coffee.

At the risk of sounding cliched and cheesy, I hate when my life gets cold and bitter.

Fortunately, I usually know the why, what, and how of the situation. In spite of my uncanny knack of returning to that place of stupidity, God did give me enough brains to figure out how to get out of the mess I got myself into in the first place. He's funny that way. I can almost picture Him chuckling in a sort of exasperated way (kind of like I do when I see my kids make the same, brain-farted choice over and over and over again). I can hear Him say something to the effect of...

"Really? We're going through THIS again? Well, I've got the roadmap and the shovel. Do you need a ladder or should I just help you dig yourself out again? You really should be able to see that hole by NOW, Sarah. After all, you dug it in the first place." Then He'll smile and chuckle again. "I love you anyway. You know that, right?"

I wrote a post a while back talking about ruts and digging holes. I'm almost tempted to put that picture on here again...

I think I've kind of gotten to the top of the rut again. My attitude has been crazy wicked lately and my kids (and my poor husband) seem to suffer the most.

I've realized that having kids and being married just seemed to make me MORE selfish than usual. I know that's not technically true. Having kids and being married just reminded me of how selfish and self-centered I really am.

Terminal. That's the word. I'm terminal. But for the grace of God, I wouldn't even know THAT. But for the Grace of God, I actually have a shovel and a cure should I choose to take them.

I hear the son waking up. Time to start my day!

In which I multitask and end up with several half finished jobs...

Only one of the jobs is actually half finished. The others are either complete or in a state of perpetual unfinishment...Dear son is bathed, dear daughter's room just needs a vacuum to run over the filthy carpet. I don't know why I thought giving her a snack in her room would be any better than the mess she makes at the table...

The point is, I DID work today. For some readers, I'm going to get the typical, "If you DIDN'T accomplish something today, you wasted your time and you won't get it back. In the light of eternity, what did you do that had purpose today?"

To those beautiful people I will respond with, "I kept my children fed, dressed (okay half-dressed - it is the summer after all), schooled (un-schooled approach counts), and safe from fatal accidents. "No DS. You cannot stick your head in the toilet while your sister is flushing it."

I also cooked, did dishes, made granola, gave a bath, changed four poopy diapers (FOUR - all from one smallish child), wrote a blog post, chatted with facebook friends, wrote/edited my manuscript, and cleaned the house(half-finished job I talked about earlier. In my defense, it's a rather daunting task when dealing with a preschooler and a toddler - their both little hellions in their own right. They make me so proud...)

Technically, I could place the housecleaning under a state of perpetual unfinishment too. (Yes, I'm making up words. Bite me.)

The laundry's almost done too. I just have to fold it and put it away.

God, when you said we'd sweat and toil and all was vanity...you meant it, didn't you? I know life has purpose and fulfillment and wholeness in your plan and all that. Right now, the mundane toil in my life is weighing me down too much to really care or look for it. Yes, I'm going through a mire of discouragement.

And when I am a published author someday, I WILL be hiring a housekeeper. Some woman who absolutely LOVES to clean and organize. Because you know what? That's not me.

Mom? I will PAY you to keep house for me. What's the rate for the job you are at? I'll triple it!

Just let me sell my book first...

For those of you who still think I was purposeless today, Here's proof of my hard work.

See the full gallery on Posterous

In which I lament the loss of quality readers in this world

Until I can actually say I've published a novel and my name is in neon lights, I will refrain from bashing successful authors...

Much.

However, I have a bone to pick with the readers of my generation and after. Since I am a reader myself, I feel I have a bit of artistic license to pick bones with authors. All in the name of saving readers from themselve of course.

Readers:

THIS is good fiction.

Harry Potter is GOOD fiction.

Chronicles of Narnia, Emma, I'll even give you Jane Eyre even though she's not really my favorite character. These are works of fiction, recognized for their beauty and intelligence and creativity.

Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet.  Loved it. The Help? Great read even if it was a little difficult to follow. I loved The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. My tastes are pretty eclectic, though right now I'm on a fantasy kick. It kind of trends that way when I'm writing in a particular genre. I've heard that's a normal symptom for writers.

I will not name any names to protect the people damaged by the crappy writing, but a certain knock-off fanfiction for a particular vampire series is NOT good reading. It's not even close to good literature. I read the first chapter of each book. That was as far as I could go. Some people might say that was farther than I should have gone. (Sorry mom. I'm a writer AND I read - A LOT) I see words and just can't help myself.

Regardless, I wanted to have at least a minor idea of what the fuss was about. I regretted it as soon as it happened though.

You know those accidents on the freeway? The ones that cause MORE accidents because people's eyes just can't look away. Or train wrecks - pick your analogy.

I'm not one of those people who do the deer in the headlights thing with accidents - or train wrecks.

Reasons why said knock-off is not literature worthy of human perusal:

• The grammar, spelling, and format is atrocious. I am not perfect when it comes to grammatical issues. I'm pretty sure even editors can't claim that trait. However, whatever editor passed that work of fiction off to the printers ought to be ostracized. Give me their name. I don't want it on any of my future published works.
• The story was...oh who am I kidding? There WAS no story. What agent read the first ten pages of the manuscript and said, "Oh wow. This story is so riveting. I MUST get it published for my client." There is a rule of thumb that says a story must be gripping in the first pages or agents won't even look at it. Publishers and editors will send an instant rejection letter. That's what I was told anyway.
• I read the original work this story plagiarized. After the second time through THAT novel, I gagged down the poor grammar and editing. It was STILL better than the knock-off.
• I have NEVER read a protaganist I hated more than the protaganist whose name was changed to make it look like the story wasn't a knock off. The false humility in the first few pages just made her an unpleasant person - it also made her completely unbelievable.
• I'm all for romance and whirlwind fairy tale one at that. THIS novel is NOT romantic nor is it a fairy tale. I'm married, a romantic at heart, and pretty openminded about what goes on in our bedroom. What happens time and again in that novel is abuse. Plain and simple. As another author wrote here, the red flags are undeniable. (*note for my conservative readers: I do not agree with everything the author of this particular blog says regarding sexual relationships and if you are squeamish about language, etc., don't click the link. I AM agreeing with her take on the abusive nature of the novel in question)

The readers who went out and actually purchased copies of this novel - and its subsequent sequels - are condoning and encouraging the epidemic that seems to be plaguing our society. We are giving a crummy author millions of dollars - and putting her on the bestseller lists - for work that wasn't even hers and does NOTHING to add to our lives in any positive ways.

When my daughter and son grow up, I want them to read quality works of art. Books that educate and inspire, books that give hope or ask tough questions. I want books that will make them laugh and cry and get angry and dream. I don't want them to read books that will twist and distort a beautiful aspect of life and call it art.

It's like the artist who uses bodily fluids in their work. (Names not mentioned for GOOD reasons)

At the end of the day, what the artist calls ART, is just a pile of crap and other bodily fluids. We call it waste for a reason.

I am a reader. I know the value of words. I also know the limits I will go before the words have lost all value for me.

Shame on us for not demanding better of our authors, for discouraging quality in favor of...what? I still don't see the appeal.

In which I discover a creative way to eat lunch and play with it too...

See the full gallery on Posterous

I made homemade, edible Play Dough. It's quick, it's simple, and you can incorporate it into a very fun lunch time experience.
The best part is that it contains a natural sweetener, dairy, and protein. Great huh? Just add some fruit, a veggie or two, and you've got a pretty well-rounded lunch. Plus, what kid DOESN'T like playing with his or her food?
Recipe: (courtesy of The Little Big Book for Moms)

2 cups powdered milk
2 cups creamy peanut butter
1 cup honey

1. Combine ingredients in a bowl and stir until well blended.
2. Shape, admire, and eat! :)

It's also fun for an afternoon snack. Cut up a variety of veggies and fruit so the kids can create a fun, animal farm with their lunch. Use raisins, apples, celery, carrots, and many others.
My kids loved it. So did I! :)

In which I do my first official giveaway...

I am giving away 5 copies of my book! That's right FIVE. All I ask for is that you go to this link here to write a review for me when you've finished reading.

If you REALLY like it, tell your friends and family. You can get the book here and here as well. If you are one of the FIVE lucky winners, I will send a signed copy to you. All you have to do is comment on this post or private message me on my facebook page. You can find that here.

I will post again when the contest is complete. Winner's names will be shown! Don't worry if you aren't a winner this time. It's not the last contest I will hold.

 

:)

In which I realize that the heat is not the problem

I walked outside after the rain, smelling the fresh, earthy aromas while the breeze cooled my heated skin. I'd gone out for a few reasons. I had to get out of the house after being voluntarily cooped up due to our incredible heat wave. It really isn't the heat, it's the humidity that is going to kill me. I don't really like breathing water.

I also had to get my son bare bottomed for a little while. Poor guy just got off the antibiotics and - predictably - he acquired a yeast infection. I SWEAR, I stopped just short of pumping yogurt and probiotics into him with an IV. He was covered. It's kind of poetic justice though. I keep telling myself I'm going to try more natural treatments on his delicate constitution. Then I go ahead and follow the slightly misguided advice of my physicians and pediatricians. They can't help it that the pharmaceutical companies have brainwashed them.

Another story.

Anyway, I also needed to check on my poor garden. It's been neglected a bit. I am NOT a green thumb. An ex of mine gave me this beautiful (hot pink) plant for Valentine's Day one year. I kid you not - within three days, that thing had passed on to plant heaven. Or so I thought. I gave it to my aunt who seemed sure there was a little green left in its poor branches.

Three YEARS later, it finally expired - and it wasn't even her fault.

I kill things. It's just in my blood I guess.

So I checked on my neglected garden to assess the damage.

Lo and behold, I find a beautiful red tomato, just ready for picking. There was a small hole at the top where it might have given an insect a midmorning snack. Otherwise, it looked wonderful. It tasted amazing. And it gave me hope. My garden might actually make it through the summer in spite of my best (worst) efforts to kill it.

Because believe me. The heat is NOT the problem.

It's all me.

Day 20: Book you’ve read the most number of times

Sacred Influence by Gary Thomas

 

I want Gary Thomas to adopt me as his little sister. He has such a beautiful and loving way with words. His encouragement and wisdom forces me to investigate my failings in my marriage. But it does so in such a way, that I am made joyful in the successes God grants me when I do his will.

I also use this book as my shield. So that means I hold on to it tightly. If you want to be an excellent wife, get your own copy. :) I don't share. Hey, it's all right to be selfish about this book. Really...

I read and re-read and re-read...because despite my amazing abilities to retain information from any book I read, this one eludes me often. Poor Jake. It's a good thing I re-read this book a lot. He needs all the help he can get for dealing with his crazy, moody, often-witchy, rarely-loving wife...

Of course, he told Gary Thomas that this book was HIS favorite book too - even though he's never cracked it open. So maybe that means I'm not the hopeless mess I thought I was.

Day 19: Book that turned you on

Can I list this one under the most embarrassing book to admit I like?

Kevin Leman is what? 50 years old or something? Good gracious though. His descriptions and depictions of sexual intimacy was difficult to read as a couple. I can't imagine what a single person would do with all that information...

It's definitely not a boring documentary on the act of sex. This is in some sense, a step by step guide on how to have a Christ-centered, worshipful, intimate sex experience with your marriage partner!

And boy, do I get all warm and tingly thinking about THAT...

Married six years in eleven days and I can still blush. That's a good thing, right?