frazzled & frumpy

Photo original here . I  live just a mile from Hill Air Force Base --and directly in the flight path of the planes. After eight years, it hasn't gotten old. I love listening to the jet noise and seeing them soar over our city. This weekend is their air show , which I'm sad to say, I'll be missing. Lucky me, they've been practicing today, and watching them has proven that even jets can be poetic. Soar Flocks fly across the horizon, Their metallic wings gleam gray and blue, With dizzying speed they ascend, Their cries rumbling, thundering, Stirring emotion and pride, Trailing clouds of patriotism in their wake.

I have a love/hate relationship with my body. Don't we all? I read this article yesterday and it resonated with me. For so long, I avoided swimsuits. I just didn't go where they were needed. Then, came the t-shirt years, when I somehow figured wearing a baggy-knit-thing would hide who I was. And, pictures? They have been erased and edited and cropped, carefully only showing my face, and, maybe shoulders. I guess it's our human nature. To look in the mirror, and instead of seeing beautiful, glorious beings, we pick ourselves apart, honing in on each and every teeny-tiny flaw. We squint and frown, and often, just avoid the reflection altogether. It doesn't help that 'the world' is telling us what we need to look like and all the many things that are wrong with who we are. There are things I hate don't like about my body. I would list them, but, well, that would be like saying 'Voldemort'-- giving power and substance to the thing I wish to

(Original here .) The house is quiet. The only sounds that stir me this morning are sleepy breathing across the hall, chirping birds outside my window, and the heavy, distant rumbling of trucks making their early rounds. Soon enough, the house will wake. It will be filled with shouts and laughter, the ping-ring of video games, and the soft whoosh of the refrigerator door being opened--again and again. There will be arguments and footsteps and, most likely, the bang of toys hitting walls. This is the symphony of my life--the song I've learned to love. But, for now... I can ponder and plan, alone with my thoughts. I wonder about the future, both near and far. I pray for my children, especially those not here. I check my mental calendar, noting appointments and schedules. But, mostly, I write. Stories run through my mind. I greet characters I love. They tell me about themselves, what they want to do, where they want to go. They whisper secrets in my ear and I am grate

The front room in our house has had many purposes. My husband calls it the "Home Teacher's Room"- the one you keep clean for visitors. Then, for a long time it was the Wii-room.  We had an entertainment center and an old tv, and pretty much gave it over to the kids. But, then, they moved the Wii downstairs and the front room was empty and unused. That's when I got an idea.  What if we made it into an office? But, not just any office, a nice office, a space for me. It's taken months of buying things here and there, painting and building. With the help of the Handy Man and lots of hard work, it has finally come together. I've never decorated a room before. Oh, I've put up stuff, but never had a real vision for what I wanted. But I did with this room and--I. Love. It.  I'm still missing a window treatment and an office chair, but I'm patient. For now, I'm enjoying it the way it is. The entire project cost less than $100. O

I have fabulous friends. I do. But, I sometimes think about the friends I wish I had. You know, those freakishly beautiful and charming women we see only on our tv sets or magazine covers? Yep, those. Because, I figure if they got to know me, they'd totally want to be my BFF. For example- Julia.  FIrst of all, we have almost the same name. Also, we're almost the same age (she's a year younger). I think we could totally hang out. We could discuss our children and the pros/cons of private vs. public school. She would probably ask me advice (since I am older and wiser) and I would tell her that she needs to part her hair on the side. Maybe I'd ask to borrow one of her dresses, like this one- then we'd both have a good laugh- because BFF's can joke about weight and stuff. Also, I think I could be friends with- Nicole. Also close in age. And, we have the same interests- She's married to Keith Urban, I listen to Keith Urban. She's from Austra

I often don't know what to say when asked how many children I have. 7? 8? I gave birth to seven beautiful babies. I nursed them, bathed them, walked the floor through the night when they had earaches, helped them as they learned to walk and speak. I took them to church, taught them to pray and read to them. I've watched them as they grew from toddlers to teens and beyond. But, Brittany joined us full grown. I'm not the one who held her first. I didn't care for or nurture her while she grew. Another woman raised her, taught her, heard her first words and comforted her after her first heartache. I don't know what she looked like as a baby or toddler, I have no idea who her favorite teacher was in elementary, or what boy earned her first crush. When she moved in, I never expected her to slip so easily into our family life. I didn't know she would become integral to us, a part of us. She came with her clothes and books and games and we made room for her in o