Monday, April 21, 2014

Kicking, Screaming, Happy Monday



We've been in a slump lately. A tantrum slump. Meaning, there are tantrums all. the. time.  I'm really sick of it. Tantrums don't work. My kids should know that by now. And, yet, they still happen.  Why? I. Don't. Know. But, just for kicks, here's some reasons they've thrown tantrums over the years.

Because...

  •  Max wanted me to home school him. (As I lay here on my bed, in sweats, in quiet, you can see why this won't happen.)
  • Noah wanted me to rent him a game on Redbox. (The last time I did that, I forgot about it and had to pay almost as much as it would've cost to buy the dang thing. Also, he played it once.)
  • Sadie (at age 8) had a meltdown because I mentioned to her brother that if she had a baby at 15, she would have to put it up for adoption. ("You're going to make me give my baby away?!?!?") Do I have to explain this one?
  • Any one of the seven didn't want to go to church. Happens every week. Every. Week. Yet, still, they go. 
  •  I rearranged the furniture. (Side note, this was Hunter, who has autism, and any change freaked him out. Not good when your mom has a thing for rearranging things.)
  • I wouldn't let Noah have two vitamins every day.  (Stupid vitamin people making them into gummy bears. Really, candy? He'd eat the whole bottle if I wasn't careful.)
  • I won't let them play on my phone. (Did I ever mention the $60 Noah spent on game coins?)
  • They can't stay up till 10 on a school night.
  • I won't open the bedroom door. ("We're busy.")
  • Someone ate all the cocoa puffs.
  • Someone drank their soda.
  • There's no ice cream.


You see, it's an everyday occurrence. Has been for about 20 years now. One of these days they'll outgrow it. Really. I've seen it happen. Once they hit, oh, about teenage years, they stop. Of course, then you have that to deal with. Not sure it's a very good trade.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Finding Joy

Writing is fun. It is joyful and therapeutic, inspirational, cathartic, soul-reaching work. When it isn't work.

Writing as a profession can sort of suck. Making it a profession is hard. Blogs that are financially successful, (especially ones where the blogger just writes, no crafts or cooking) are few and far between. Getting a steady, loyal readership is tough. Just ask, well...me. I've thought about quitting, but really, if I was in this for the money I would've quit years ago.

One of the best ways to write, and, make money at it, is books. But, that process sucks, too. First, you have to write a book, then edit it, edit some more, then some editing--you get the picture.  Then, you have to find an agent, more editing, then the agent has to find you a publisher. (I made that sound much easier than it is.) I'm still on the editing part.

I recently had someone tell me about their friend's daughter who makes a few thousand a month writing and publishing ebooks. This, of course, got me listening. Then, she said that her friend had never read any of her daughter's books because they were too risque. Heh. That's a nice word for SMUT.

(What do I mean by smut? You know, like 50 Shades of Gross, er, Grey. Not that I've read it. I haven't.)

I could write smut, I'm sure. Come up with some descriptive words for body parts, throw in some heavy breathing and cheesy dialogue. Easy peasy.  I could do it.

I won't.

See, I believe my writing gift is just that, a gift, a heavenly one. It wasn't meant to write suggestive stuff for bored women to pass the time with. I want my writing to bring as much joy to the reader as it does to me. I want to make people laugh and think and realize the possibilities. I want to write about heartache and trial as well as success. I want someone to read it and say, 'That's exactly how I feel. I'm not alone.'

As for my book, I think I'd sort of lost my vision.  It has become this weight around my neck that I drag along as I repeat the mantra, "Must finish, must finish, must finish."  Last week, someone I just met asked me about it, so I explained the concept, then I told her why I started writing it. And, saying the why aloud felt like a rush of fresh air filling my lungs. The weight was lifted. I remembered my purpose. It isn't about making money.

 It's all about joy.


(Photo a Day- A Living Thing)



Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Don't Judge

Tonight, we were reading scriptures. (And don't think we're all perfect and read everyday. We so don't.) It was Hunter's turn. He read a verse that ended with:
"and they shall be driven before like a dumb ass."

Yep.
Dumb ass.

Giggling ensued. I was not immune. I couldn't help it. Sometimes you have to not take yourself too seriously. Even during scripture time.

Who you calling dumb?


Saturday, April 5, 2014

Soft

(I spent the past couple days focusing on thoughts and writing and vulnerability. Instead of a photo, today I decided to write on the prompt.)


I drove myself up the canyon. A winding road twisted among the bare trees, their tips budding with the promise of spring. I walked into a quaint cabin and entered a different world.

Surrounded by women I didn't know, I subconsciously chose a corner, the shyness of my youth washing over me like a wave. I watched conversations and listened to discourse, taking notes on paper and in my mind.

Women approached me, pulling me from behind my self-inflicted wall. Layer by layer my fears and inhibitions were stripped away. As my shell opened, my heart lay exposed. Soft, delicate, it beat in timid rhythm as vulnerability became my badge.

There is no growth without risk. I cannot live and learn unless I let myself become pliable, supple, susceptible to pain. I wrote, I shared, I laughed, I cried. And, then, I cried again. I let my mind follow my open heart, set aside my self-doubt and seized the potential of my future.

Do not fear the softness. There is strength in being vulnerable, in allowing ourselves to risk and try. There is hope in embracing our gifts and in simply being who we are.


“Vulnerability is the only authentic state. Being vulnerable means being open, for wounding, but also for pleasure. Being open to the wounds of life means also being open to the bounty and beauty. Don’t mask or deny your vulnerability: it is your greatest asset. Be vulnerable: quake and shake in your boots with it. the new goodness that is coming to you, in the form of people, situations, and things can only come to you when you are vulnerable, i.e. open.” -Stephen Russell

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Photo a Day- SHINE

After a week of snow, even a little sunshine is welcome.

Through the moonroof.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Let's Try This Again- Photo-a-Day

This was such a failure when I tried it in February, but I still like the idea. So, I'm trying again. Here's the list-






And here's today's photo.

What's more fun on a snowy spring break than a snow-recliner?