A Musing Mother 6

You know I love my children, right? I do. I worry about them. I try to be the best mom I can. They are always on my mind. On the other hand, sometimes I like to do other things with my time besides attend to them. For instance, I tried to do a little grading of papers today for a college I work for. Here are a few things I can always count on by my children. The 15 year old may or may not sit down right next to me (nearly on my lap) and start telling me the most HILARIOUS story about how (fill in the blank) said (fill in the blank) today and everybody started laughing and she could go on and on about it and I know that I don't know these people yet I do this to my husband every time he's trying to read. The 12 year old is always "bored" and wants to do something that involves 1) making a mess 2) me taking her someplace or 3) costs money.  Note that none of the above include her cleaning her room or any other part of the house. Apparently, I am supposed to be the enter

... is Kristina P ! The woman who totally crushes on Mario Lopez and Snuggies! Wanna laugh? Wanna see how to properly mock pop culture? Her blog is the place to go. Warning: Put on a good brand of Depends before you start reading.

I pride myself on dressing in basics; khakis or jeans with variations of t-shirts. I prefer to rely on my sparkling personality and good looks to dress to impress. The problem arises, of course, when I look the mirror. I am aging. I have photo albums of my teenage and twenty-something years. Purple eye shadow, too stark of blush (using a stick, not powder), cute figure, and fashionable clothes for the day. Fact is, I could get away with anything and still be attractive to some degree. But it was downright exhausting to be young in the 80's. The clothes were trendy, the hair high, and the make-up severe. And so I settled in on relying on my beauty and gave up trying to be trendy. Sadly, I find myself repeating the mantra, "Beauty is within" far too often these days. People who used to say that lacked beauty. Duh. On the other hand, I am far more comfortable in my body than I was 20 years ago. I find older women who possess beauty that I did not notice. What can we do about

A woman of my age has often entered a new stage in her life. Her children are all in school or perhaps married off or at college. She looks at herself in the mirror and sees that middle age has crept upon her and very soon she will be alone with nothing to do. All. Day. Long. And middle age doesn't look as old as it did when her mom was in her forties. And she's not quite ready to pick up the knitting needles and create shawls for her grandchildren so she decides to get a job. But the job market stinks so she decides to finish that college degree she never intended to finish because she only went to college to find a husband. Such is the case of Tiffany, my friend from high school. We met up again in the middle age section of Costco (produce) and she told me how her twins are married and her oldest son is in college and how she will graduate in April with her M.S.W.  It's what women of my age do.  So how is it going back to school after twenty years, I ask. This is where

This book written by a Christian couple is based on the premise that a woman longs for three things; to be romanced, an irreplaceable role in a great adventure, and beauty to unveil. Although, in summary, it sounds quite cheesy, Stasi and John guide the reader on a journey through scripture, literature, and real experiences that tend to lack empirical and statistical evidence yet resonates within the recesses of the mind. That God created man, both male and female, in his own image is an accepted Christian doctrine. The authors take this doctrine a step further by expressing the divine nature of womanhood. He specifically blessed us with qualities that are feminine; relational, beautiful and seeking validation. It is their goal to assist the female reader unveil her femininity and connect with God and her man. Validation is found within the books pages as the authors reveal that God is beautiful and glorious. He seeks to have an intimate relationship with His children. He seeks our hon

I could never do an Atkinsesque diet.  I love bread.  My newest acquisition is baguette pan.  A few facts about these loaves; I copied Julia Childs recipe and technique. Technique makes it or breaks it.  I cut the salt to one teaspoon. I did not use a bread mixer.  Just old fashioned elbow grease. They are truly crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside. High cook temperature, spray with water every three minutes for the first 9 minutes. They really do take between 6 and 7 hours to make, if made right. I've made them three times this week. I love my new pan.

Giveaways are so much fun.  Especially if you win.  Let's see how much fun you can have. Rusty Sabich is chief deputy prosecuting attorney in a large mid-western city. His boss is in the midst of a bitter campaign for re-election. A fellow prosecuting attorney, Carolyn Polhemus, has been brutally murdered. Rusty is handling the investigation---and he needs results. Before election day. Before his illicit affair with Carolyn is uncovered. Election day brings a new prosecuting attorney into office. A political enemy who wants Rusty out. man whose own secret investigation has revealed Rusty's relationship with Carolyn. A man who takes Rusty off the case---and charges him with murder. Rusty now faces a long battle in court. Each side will twist the evidence to win its case, and try any procedural ploy, any courtroom trick that might ensure victory. Rusty's ordeal will uncover corruption, deceit, depravity and incompetence---and keep you spellbound. Who did kill Carolyn Polhemus

This darling woman is starting out her business of blog design.  If you have been following my blog at all, you will already know that I am compulsively indecisive about my blog look. This is because I have not found the perfect look for my blog.  She is going to make a header that is uniquely me. For free! This is way better than those free squash I leave in your unlocked car in August. Check her out.  She also has great prices for a complete blog design.

I joined a book share through sevenclowncircus.com .  I thought it was brilliant.  I gathered a stack of books I'd read, enjoyed and wouldn't be using anymore and boxed them up.  Days passed and I started feeling guilty.  I finally wrote to my partner in Florida. I just wanted to let you know that I have the books I am sending you boxed up. They look lovely in the corner of my living room. I thought about wrapping it, addressing it, and getting to the post office all day. But then the dog ran away so I went chasing her through the neighborhood. Then my 4 year old became velcro. My 12 year old got in a "mood" and she engaged in no less than 8 fights before she took a nap. The dog threw up in the kitchen. The dog started digging her way to the neighbor's yard. My IBS (LOVE that I get to boast this one!) started acting up. The 4 year old had an accident. Both kinds. Worked four hours (the most relaxing part of the day). And those are all of my excuses. Oh, yeah. Don

I am truly the best mom ever.  I am always thinking of the welfare of my children and spoil them shamelessly.  For instance, there's a little cupcake shop on my way home from work called Dippidee .  On the days my 5 year old has daycare, we sometimes make a small detour to satisfy my son's sweet tooth.  They really are amazing little treats. Today I was feeling magnanimous.  Again. Mom:  Hey, Buddy, do you want a cupcake on the way home? Son:  No. 4 minutes later. Mom:  Hey, Bud!  How about a stop at the cupcake place. Son:  No, thanks, Mom. Pause Son:  If you want to go in and get a cupcake for you, I'll wait in the car. Oh, and get a cupcake for my brother because he likes cupcakes. And so I left him in the car, ran past three women, ordered a chocolate cupcake with cream cheese filling, whipped creamy topping, caramel and pieces of Heath bar and a smaller German chocolate cupcake for the brother and pushed myself back out to the car where my boy was still sitting. Two ho

I'm mad at my husband because I hate the dog. I know it's not fair and she's really a very good dog in many aspects. She loves everybody and I mean everybody. She's supposed to scare off thieves and kidnappers which I think she probably does a pretty good job by just being there. On the other hand, the bug spray guy came a couple of weeks ago and, without even a warning bark, she nuzzled right up to him and became his best friend. But she digs and runs away. I really hate that. My neighbors hate that. My neighbors directly behind me really, really hate that. This morning I gave her 10 minutes in the fenced yard to get out her wiggles before I put her in her dog run while I went to work. In those 10 minutes, she left. I had to walk around the backyard calling to her and happened upon her nose, yes her NOSE which was sticking through a hole under the fence.  She'd dug herelf into the neighbor's backyard and couldn't get home. Already mortified, I had to go to

She'd been patiently asking me for weeks to take her out and have "special time."  Didn't taking her to the conference center to hear her sister sing count as "special time"?  Or the trip to the doctor last week?  I guess the point of special time is that she gets to write the agenda, not me. Saturdays fly so fast and I'd already made one trip to Costco (and a stop at a local cupcake shop that is completely ruining my figure.  Along with gravity) and my stomach was acting up.  Again.  There were mounds of laundry to fold and put away, a clubhouse to clean up, clothes to be returned, a van that needed gas, and videos that needed to find a Redbox but all I wanted to do was lay down and plead with my gut to knock. it. off.  That's when my 12 year old requested I take her shopping for a swimming suit, an Easter dress, and a shirt to go with her skirts. I had so many excuses I could have made but my mind kept wandering back to my 10 year old boy doing his

Things to know about him: He was 3 and half weeks early and very tiny. He slept the first two months of his life. I had to pump then feed him a bottle in his sleep. He's a cuddler. He loves to put his fingers in my hair and twist it around. He stopped kissing me for a couple of months because he was too big. He started giving me nice big smooches again about three weeks ago. He only has two speeds. Fast and Asleep. He likes to build things with stools, chairs, and blankets. He always wants to play. His favorite drink is chocolate milk warmed up seventeen times. His favorite book is "The Big Blue Book." He calls swords "sheens." He believes that he won't have bad dreams if I read him a story before bed. He often says, "Mom, I want to be hold." He sits or stands on my back if I'm on the floor. He gives spontaneous hugs. His eyes are windows to heaven and my heart. I think I've never been loved as much as right now.

I have been having a love affair with amazon.com.  It's just so enticing. Everything I ever wanted is there for the taking and I don't even have to place a bid!  I can buy someone's used books or find that particular toy and it will come right to my house!  But just as I'm about to place the order, I see that I will still have to pay shipping. I hate paying for shipping.  I understand the concept (stamps cost money) but I don't like it.  I currently have 5 items waiting in my basket. I just have to pay shipping.  But I can't because they are from private sellers who all charge shipping!  I am so torn.  I feel so cheap.  And a little tawdry. A few months ago I allowed myself to indulge just a little bit and feed my Suzy Homemaker secret.  I love bread.  I love Italian restaurants where I can order a dinner salad and eat bread all night long while sipping on my Diet Coke.  I'm not talking Olive Garden breadsticks but real, chewy, warm, crusty Italian bread.  I

While in St. George I went to lunch with a dear friend, Jennifer. Jen and I worked together for less than a year. Far too brief when finding a dear friend. Jen's husband, the Ph.D. Biologist, commuted for a year or two to St. George from Utah county while Jen single parented four days a week. At the end of the trial period, they concluded that the commute was too much and they moved to St. George. Once a year Jen and I get together and try to stuff a year of friendship into an hour and a half.  It would be awkward, I suppose, if it weren't Jen. It's the kind of friendship where we can have silence for a year and pick up on a conversation we had the last time we talked as if there was no pause. We miss the intricacies of each others' lives but we get the concepts and come away feeling validated and loved. In the past year I missed the intricacies of Jennifer's Rheumatoid arthritis aggressively attacking her joints to the point where she has traded her soccer ball for

I've never liked scrapbooking. I could never really get into all the cutting, pasting, and spending so much money for one page. Not to mention, who would really want to look at all my creative die cuts?  Good news. I didn't cut out a single picture or die (cut). Now humor me and allow me to introduce you to Zion's National Monument. I know that it looks like some postcards you may have seen but it's not. It is truly magnificent. Photos can not do it justice. First, let's get this one out of the way. This is called "Chimney Rock." The circle indicates where the mountain climber is. S/he is the one highest on the mountain. Directly below are two more. Apparently, the point is to reach the top and sleep in a hammock. They will not summit (verb) before nightfall. They will be sleeping on the cliff face. This is a wild turkey hen. They are all over the park. This is just a really good looking family I saw on one of the hikes.  Ever notice that cameras make yo

Ten year old boys are a little on the funny side. While exploring the condo where we are staying, he stood in front of a mirrored closet door. His eyes moved from one reflection of himself to the other. Finally, he concluded this stare down with, "I don't think I trust either one of you." This is the same boy who, when he figured out Mr. Taylor and I were speaking in code (talking about one of the children), he stared at us both in disbelief then exclaimed, "You're talking about my secret adoption, aren't you!" I don't think he realizes how funny he is. A couple of years ago we were wrestling and I let him pin me. He then informed me he would never get married and have children. He would grow up and get a dog and a cat and name them Bob and Fred. "Who will cook for you? And go to the store? Who will make your lunches?" I asked. "Bob and Fred," he replied matter-of-factly. That made me laugh and, since he was sitting on my stomach

You know the reason you keep coming back again and again to my blog is my insight and maturity. This may not be my shining moment. Or maybe it is. I took this picture off my neighbor's blog. She took this picture this morning when she got up. I took this picture just a minute ago from my balcony while I'm on vacation. Happy Easter, Yolanda. I might need a new friend.  Applications are currently being accepted. *Winner of the $60 gift certificate to Mikarose is Joan Ostler! (applause all around). Joan will need to send me her home address within the next 15 minutes week or I will keep it all to myself. Just kidding about keeping it all to myself. I exult maturity. Really. I do.