Coloring Outside The Lines

Abundance

2011-12-23T15:12:00.000-06:00

I guess it's not that unheard of to be thinking about abundance during the Christmas season, when we are giving and receiving and loving one another to our heart's content. But even so, I couldn't help thinking about the other 364 days of the year-how we create or take away from the feeling of abundance in the lives of our families.

About a week ago, I saw a video from the Jimmy Kimmel Show, in which he asked parents, his viewers, to tell their children that they were going to open an early Christmas present. The catch was, Jimmy Kimmel told the viewers to put something quite awful in the gift and then watch their child's reaction. The result was, not surprisingly, a lot of unhappy kiddos as they opened gifts containing half-eaten sandwiches, blackened bananas, and other inappropropriate gifts for anyone, let alone, kids. Besides the fact that this was, in my opinion, mean, maybe even cruel, surprisingly the reactions the kids gave varied a bit.

I wouldn't say any of the kids were happy, but some threw all out fits, one made-do and ate the banana, and one offered to eat the half-eaten sandwich his sister had gotten and was crying about. So why the variations?

I think it's because some kids have more abundance in their lives than others. I don't mean that some kids have more things than others, because I think abundance resides in our hearts not our hands.

Now, I know kids love to get toys. They love to have new things-we all do. But deep down what kids want, what we all want, is to know every second of the day that we are loved and accepted just the way we are. To have the time and attention of those that we love. To be connected, involved, understood. And I would bet, that the kids on those videos who threw the biggest fits (one kid even screamed at his parent, "Suck my balls!" Yes. A kid not older than 10) are the ones who feel the least abundant.

Because kids whose parents habitually put their own needs in front of their children's, who criticize more than praise, who cart them off to other caregivers continuously, who give them things but then tell them to, "go and play", who have never watched a kid's television show with them, or played Barbies (especially when they really didn't feel like it) or catch, or video games, or made them playdough or simply just spend time, every day, with them may always believe, may even rely on gifts, to fill the hole inside them where abundance is supposed to be. And toys will not always do the trick, because I believe that a child who grows up without abundance will grow up to fill that hole with much more dangerous things, like drugs and alcohol.

So this Christmas, give all the gifts you want, I will too. But take some time to look into the eyes of your children, into the eyes of the ones that you love, and give them not just the Christmas spirit, but yours.

I wish you all much abundance this holiday.

Stand By Folks...

2011-12-09T14:27:00.000-06:00

We are experiencing technical difficulties.The blogging gods or some random internet force has suddenly changed my blog design, altering my title picture from screen size to a mere wallet size.

I haven't figured out yet how to remedy this, but hopefully I will soon, although I'm sure it bothers me more than anyone else!

Book Bits

2011-11-22T12:10:00.001-06:00

Pieces

A bit for someone here.
A bit there.
And sometimes they don't add up tp anything whole.
But you are so busy dancing.
Delivering.
You don't have time to notice.
And then one day you have to look.
And it's true.
All of your pieces fill up other people's holes.
But they don't fill
your own.

~From the Adoration of Jenna Fox, by Mary E. Pearson

I finished this book last night and it is still floating around in my mind like a really good dream. The plot is gripping, but I won't go into all that. Because what really got me was the theme of perfection, of the universal need for children to have their parents be proud of them, to adore them, as is perfectly written in the poem above. But often times, that means that children have to be what their parents want them to be instead of what the child herself wants to be.

Play soccer, learn piano, get all A's. How often do we really ask our children what they want to do? How often do we allow them the time to figure that out?

I am no stranger to this struggle as a parent. We want our kids to grow up well rounded, to try new things, to succeed. But it's a fine line we walk when we choose activities for them, when we schedule their days to be busier than even our own.

Sometimes it seems like we are asking our children to be everything that we were not. To fix our own shortcomings. To live vicariously through them.

So the question is then, how do we communicate to our children that they are perfect just the way they are? Without getting straight A's, without playing sports, or doing perfect releves every week in ballet class? How do we tell them they are perfect even when they fail miserably at something? Even when they do something that's right for them but wrong for us?

I guess the best we can do is ask ourselves, is this what I want or what she wants?

Deep down we know the answer to that question. If we really listen.

Shades of Grey

2011-10-02T11:42:00.001-05:00

One of the most difficult things for we humans to do is to grasp that life is not black and white. It is not comprised of boxes that we check off with neat little check marks. Rather, it is made of never ending shades of grey, sometimes subtle nuances, not always easily discernable borders and boxes.

Because each human experience is shaded by our experiences, our culture, by our family life, by our life in general, not one of us, can apply our particular point of view to someone else's particular point of view and have it match up perfectly-there are just too many variables. And the sooner we all accept that, the better off we will be.

So what do we do, if we can't possibly agree on everything, particularly when it comes to making decisions for society, such as a governing body might do? We don't do what our fearless leaders are doing now: bicker about every little thing that they do not get. But it's not only the big decisions that others make for us, (whether or not we get to vote), but the little ones we make, the little arguments between husbands and wives, the small scuffles of kids on the playground, even the dire disagreements between people of everyday life. What do we do when we can't agree which boxes to check?

We can compromise, empathize, see someone else's point of view. And most of all, we can be ok with not getting everything we want sometimes. The more we are able to see the shades of grey in life, the less life becomes about being right and wrong.

As parents, shades of grey are what we need to be helping our kids to see. Kids are notorious for seeing things in black and white, but only because their thinking hasn't grown enough to understand things in a less concrete way. And yet, it seems as if most kids become adults who see no differently, even if they are able. We need to teach our kids to accept from their parents answers like, I don't know. Even better, to help kids see another person's point of view-especially during a disagreement.

If we can do this, maybe the world will be less angry and hostile. Maybe we can all stop wanting to be right instead of doing what's right.

Maybe. Because even maybe is a shade of grey.

Vote For Me!

2011-09-17T08:06:00.002-05:00

Dearest Readers,

I wonder if you would do a poor, struggling writer, a solid, and visit my latest story on Knowonder? All I need is one teeny, tiny vote from you! And what do you get? You get to read my story!

What's that you say? You will read and vote for my story? Yay!

Here's what you do. You visit the link below, read my story, then leave a comment and/or click on one of the "share" links below it to link to your blog or facebook page. Then, I give you my most heartfelt thanks.

Easy!

Here is the link:
http://www.knowonder.com/2011/09/16/story-of-the-day-the-rabbit%e2%80%99s-new-garden/

2011-08-30T09:09:00.000-05:00

In my last post, I wrote about my addiction to writing my first novel. I wrote about how much I loved writing, how I found it hard to stop, how I thought about little else. That, my dear readers, was the honeymoon. Now, I have hit the cold stark reality of my committment and I admit, I am utterly overwhelmed by it.

Writing a first draft is easy. You let go of your inhibitions and write, because one of the first rules of writing is that you have permission to write a really crappy first draft. So, you throw your internal editor out the window, reach deep down into your imagination and write.

But once that first draft is finished, you must let your editor come crawling back. And, let me tell you, my editor says I have a lot of work to do. I need to show more and tell less (a challenge since my POV is in first person). I need to work on my dialogue. I need to get rid of my purple prose. I need to fix a major portion of my plot.

This, dear readers, is where the rubber meets the road, where the pedal hits the metal. Now is when the real committment comes in, and I suspect, this is where the real writers get weeded out from the wannabes.

Let's hope I'm a real writer.

Addicted to Writing

2011-08-06T09:32:00.000-05:00

I've been neglecting my blog lately. I know it. I admit it. In fact, I haven't even thought about writing a post until just now. The reason you ask? Someone is asking, right?

I'm writing a novel for young adults! Ok, so that might not be the most exciting news to anyone else but me, but I have to say that this endeavor has been so completely, so utterly, so totally consuming, I have thought about little else.

My desk is littered with stacks of scribbled on paper, full of notes and ideas and random thoughts about my story. A stack of books I have been using for reference teeters in a kind of Leaning Tower of Pisa next to my computer. My house is sadly lacking the keeping it needs. And some days, my kids have to ask three times for something to eat or drink before I'll stop my frantic typing long enough to get it for them.

"Just one more page. Just one more sentence. Just one more word. Pleeaaaaaase!"

I am addicted to writing.

I don't know if my novel will be good or great or downright sucky. All that I know is that I'm in love with writing in a way I haven't been in a long, long time. And that has to mean something.

Right?

Author Spotlight, Margot Finke

2011-06-28T09:00:00.005-05:00

Today I am pleased to be spotlighting Margot Finke, a terrific writer for children. She writes fun picture books and her fantastic middle grade novel, Taconi and Claude was released in March.

Margot Finke is an Aussie transplant who writes midgrade adventure fiction and rhyming picture books. For many years she has lived in Oregon with her husband and family. Gardening, travel, and reading fill in the cracks between writing. Her husband is very supportive, and their three children are now grown and doing very well.

Margot didn't begin serious writing until the day their youngest left for college. This late start drives her writing, and pushes her to work at it every day. Margot said, "I really envy those who began young, and managed to slip into writing mode between kid fights, diaper changes, household disasters, and outside jobs. You are my heroes!"

Her first books, a 7x book rhyming series, "Wild and Wonderful," offers fun facts about animals from the US and Australia. Educational and fun, eBooks can be read on a computer, laptop, or various color e-Readers. They are great for classroom or home schooling moms.

Remember, kids today are computer savvy, and ALL 11 of Margot’s books (both hard copy and eBooks) can be viewed on Margot’ Magic Carpet. The latest three are: Taconi and Claude – Double Trouble (midgrade), Horatio Humble Beats the Big D + Ruthie and the Hippo’s Fat Behind.

Visit her DOWN-UNDER FUN OR WILD US CRITTERS: Discover extra fun facts about the animals in her books

Her Manuscript Critique Service attracts clients from all over the globe, and her website offers a great deal of help for new writers. Nothing gives her a bigger thrill that to hear that a book she helped polish has been published. “This is always a huge YEA moment,” Margot says.

Visit Margot's website at: Author Website: http://www.margotfinke.com

Thank you for sharing your story with us Margot!

Book Review: Taconi and Claude by Margot Finke

2011-06-27T10:06:00.001-05:00

Recently I had the pleasure of reviewing Margot Finke's middle grade novel, Taconi and Claude. Set in the 1950's Australian Outback, Taconi is a young boy caught between two worlds: the world of his Aboriginal tribe and the world where he lives with his father, Coorparoo Cattle Station.

Taconi faces many challenges growing up between these two worlds. His father desperately wants to land the job as head cook for the station in order to make a better life for his son. When a dingo kills all but one scrawny chicken, leaving Taconi's dad with nothing to use for the soup that would be the deciding factor for whether or not he gets the job, Taconi is left to wrestle with his ambivalent feelings. On the one hand, he doesn't want his dad to get the job because that would leave his dad no time to teach him the skills he needs for his upcoming man ceremony. On the other hand, he cares about his dad and wants to help him.

Throughout the book, Taconi faces real life challenges in the present, that parallel the spiritual man ceremony Taconi will face in the future. As he bravely confronts each challenge, Taconi has one friend who is always there, providing snippets of humor in response to Taconi's sometimes serious questions: Claude, the cockatoo.

Full of beautifully written passages and wit, Margot Finke has crafted a story that will keep the reader engaged and turning the pages. I sure was.

Taconi and Claude has earned it's place on our bookshelf!

To purchase Taconi and Claude by Margot Finke click here: http://www.amazon.com/Taconi-Claude-Double-Trouble-ebook/dp/B0052ULHS2/ref=sr_1_cc_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1307051960&sr=1-1-catcorr

or go to the Guardian Angel website http://www.guardianangelpublishing.com/double-trouble.htm

The Author and the Illustrator

2011-06-24T09:05:00.000-05:00

It has been said that in families, people assume roles. One person may be the mediator, one the smart one, one the sports star, etc. In my family, I am the writer.

Both of my kids are great writers and readers. Maya used to make books and write stories to go along with them all the time. But she leans much more strongly in the direction of drawing. Her favorite thing to draw? Illustrations.

She has said on a number of occasions that she does not want to be a writer and I can't help but wonder, just a little, if it's because I am a writer. Not that she doesn't respect writing, or the writing that I do, but it seems like children have some unwritten rule about being just like their parents-like it just isn't done. Even though most people take on many of their parents characteristics, likes, and hobbies later on in life, maybe those things are more of an unconscious happening rather than a conscious choice.

No matter. I want my kiddos to find their own way and if that means they do things differently from the way I do them, so be it. Such is life.

The more important thing in my humble opinion, is that Maya shows a lot of promise in her drawing-and not simply because she is pretty good at it. It's because she works hard at it. She draws all of the time, copying pictures from books, magazines, calendars, even television (the pause button on the DVR is so helpful!). She draws little characters and gives them life and personalities.

It is this dedication that will make her successful, should she continue to do it. Maybe one day she can illustrate a book for me. A mama can dream can't she?

Here is a picture Maya drew from one of our favorite children's books. Can you guess which one?

~EBL

Author Spotlight, VS Grenier

2011-06-15T09:48:00.001-05:00

Today I am pleased to be talking to writer, mother, and mamablogger extraordinaire, VS Grenier.

VS Grenier is an award-winning children’s author, founder & owner of Stories for Children Publishing, LLC., award-winning editor-in-chief of Stories for Children Magazine and chief editor for Halo Publishing, Int.; in addition to running her own editorial and critique services.

In 2007 & 2008, VS Grenier was voted one of the Top Ten Editors in the Preditors and Editors Reader’s Poll, won 2nd place for her article on, “Yes, Virginia, There IS a Santa Claus” in the Preditors and Editors Reader’s Poll for Best Nonfiction of 2007, and won 7th place for her article, “Dinosaur Tracks in My Backyard” in the Preditors and Editors Reader’s Poll for Best Nonfiction of 2008.

VS Grenier learned to hone her writing skills at the Institute of Children’s Literature and is a member of the League of Utah Writers (HWG), Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) and Musing Our Children.

Welcome Ms. Grenier and thank you for being my guest here on Coloring Outside the Lines!

What inspired you to write?

I didn’t start off writing to become an author. I thought it would be a nice hobby while I stayed home with my kids. As I started writing in my spare time and taking writing courses, the writing bug bit me. Next thing you know, I’m sending out manuscripts to publishers. I look back and think, why didn’t I start writing sooner in life. I really love doing what I do and wouldn’t trade working from home for anything.

Do you consider yourself a born writer?

No, I don’t. I’m still learning new tricks of the trade when crafting a story. There are times stories or article ideas come to me and then other times…I have to do writing prompts to help spark an idea or thought. But I don’t mind not being a born writer. It’s fun learning from my mistakes.

What type of books do you write?

I tend to write picture books and YA novels. I would love to write chapter books, but for some reason I have a really hard time with that style of writing. Maybe one day I’ll somewhat master the technique.

Do your children inspire any of books, characters, or plots?

Yes, of course they do. My book “Babysitting SugarPaw” is based off my childhood and my son’s a little bit. I have another book which is based completely off my middle daughter. A lot of my short stories in magazines are also based off family members like my dad or mom. I think it is hard to keep your family or friends out of your books completely.

Can you share a little about your current book?

My current book is “Babysitting SugarPaw” and is a picture book for children of all ages, even though picture books are for ages 3 to 8 mostly. What makes my book unique is the story teaches about friendship and honesty while a little bear named SugarPaw is left with a babysitter for the first time. Bonnie Whiskers is a first time babysitter and so together they learn about each other and how spending time with a babysitter can be fun…as long as you follow the rules or tell the truth.

It’s a great book for babysitters to take along and read to the child they are watching or for parents to read with children being left with a babysitter or caregiver for the first time.

What type of book promotion works for you? Any special strategies you’d like to share?

I really love virtual tours like this one. With three children at home between 15 and 15 months, it’s hard to get out and travel for in person visits. I do some local stuff at the schools, but online marketing has really been my main focus right now. However, you should never put all your money in one form of marketing. Try a couple of things and see what works for you. Each book is different and what works for one…may not work for another.

What is the most difficult part of writing?

Finding the time to sit down and just write. I’m busy as an editor for Halo Publishing and my small company Stories for Children Publishing. When I’m not spending time working on assignments or tasks for either one, I’m busy being a mom. My son fences, so that takes up a lot of our time at night. My middle daughter is in soccer and swimming, and the baby is just fun to go on walks with or build with towers of blocks with.

Do you find it hard to balance your personal writing time with your other jobs?

Yes, very much so. I wish there was a way to get more hours in the day to do everything I would love to, but there isn’t. Finding balance can be very hard even if you don’t have children or a full time job as a writer. Life happens and you can’t stop it from getting in your way from time to time. The trick is to steal those small amounts of time to jot down a sentence or scene or thought. Then when you can carve some time to just sit and weave them together into a story.

Do you have any other works in progress? Can you tell us a little about them?

I have two picture books almost ready to be submitted to publishers. I also have two YA novels I’ve been working in when I get the chance. One of them is in rough draft form. Meaning it’s my first draft and no one will ever see it until I’ve made a billion revisions. LOL. The other is only outlined, but the story likes to play as a movie in my head at night when I’m sleeping. I guess I need to write it soon before I get locked up in the padded room.

The world of children’s book publishing is extremely competitive, with many authors hesitating between trying their luck with a traditional publisher or self publishing. What advice would you offer writers who are oscillating between these two publishing venues?

This is a very tough question. The real thing you need to think about when it comes to self publishing or traditional publishing is how much time do you want to put in. Both require a lot of time, but in different ways. Self publishing requires some time at the beginning of your book being published, but it costs money. However, you’ll be doing a lot of marketing after your book is in print and will be the only one to really push your book to bookstores, reviewers, etc.

Traditional publishing takes a lot of time in the beginning with trying to find the right publisher and sending you manuscript out over and over again, until you finally get an acceptance. The publisher will help with marketing, but you’ll still have to spend some money and time here as well.

The best advice, do what you feel is best for you and your book. Sometimes it is better to self publish because you know you already have tapped into your readership. Other times it may be better to go the traditional route.

I know authors who have been both traditional and self published throughout their career.

How do you see the future of book publishing, both traditional, electronic, and print on demand?

I think we’ll still have printed books for some time, especially in the children’s market. However, the times are changing and more books are being self published, made into Print on Demand and into eBooks.

What is your creative process like? What happens before sitting down to write?

My mind goes completely blank and I sit in my chair thinking, What was it I was going to do first? Check my emails? No. Send a file to someone? No. Oh yeah, there was this story idea…

Then I start to write. REALLY!

I can certainly relate to that!

What well known writers do you admire most?

Oh, that’s a big list. I’ll just share a few. Rick Walton, J.K. Rowling, Rick Riordan, James Patterson, Brandon Mull, Cornelia Funke, Tolkien, James Dashner and Dr. Suess.

Do you participate in competitions? Have you received any awards?

I do participate in competitions when I can. Believe it or not, but because I’m also an editor…I can’t always enter a writing contest.

The awards I’ve won are for being the Chief Editor at Stories for Children from Preditors & Editors as one of the Top 10 Editors in 2008 and 2009, my newsletter SFC Newsletter for Writers has been voted one of the 101 Best Writing Resources/Websites by Writer’s Digest, and I’ve won awards for two of my magazine articles and two of my short stories.

Is there anything else you would like to share with us?

Of course, keep writing and reading. Never give up on your dreams. Surround yourself with people who will lift you and support your goals. Don’t give up and come visit me in the World of Ink at http://vsgrenier.com or http://storiesforchildrenpublishing.com.

Thank you for taking the time to share with me and my readers about being an author!

Check out the trailer for VS Grenier's book, Babysitting SugarPaw.

Coming Soon!

2011-06-06T14:22:00.001-05:00

On June 15, I will be spotlighting V.S. Grenier, Editor in Chief of Stories for Children Magazine and author of Babysitting Sugar Paw. Click on the link below to see where Ms. Grenier will be stopping on her blog tour, and be sure to come back on June 15th!

My First Picture Book To Come!

2011-05-29T15:00:00.002-05:00

Well, it finally happened. I opened an e-mail from Guardian Angel Publishing, thinking it was yet another rejection letter, when to my shock it said, "Congratulations!" Yep, that's right-an acceptance letter for my story A Friend For Freckles, along with a contract!

After years of submitting story after story-to big houses and small, finally an acceptance. It feels pretty darn good I tell you. And this story is one of my favorites, with a lovely message about shelter animals and what it means to be a friend.

For my readers who don't know about Guardian Angel Publishing, GAP is an independent publisher of children's books-both picture books and middle grade. While they are a smaller outfit than the big New York houses, they have a fantastic reputation for putting out quality work and also of being supportive of their authors. I have already begun to look at some of the GAP illustrators, and have been asked to choose three that I think would be a good fit for my Freckles. I can't wait to see what he will look like!

I can hardly believe that in 6 months (maybe longer, I really have no idea how long it will take) I will be holding my very own book in my hands. Wow. And the cool thing is, it will be available not only in print, but in e-book formats and even apps for iphones.

So, I would like to post at every new stage in the production of my first picture book. As I learn how the process goes, I will share it with you.

Stay tuned!

Can Watching Soap Operas Help Your Writing?

2011-05-24T08:07:00.000-05:00

This was a question I pondered today.

I admit it. I sometimes watch soap operas during the downtime part of my day. Now, I know they are silly and dramatic and the story lines are often waaaay out there. I mean come on, could one person really steal another person's identity, get plastic surgery to look exactly like them, kidnap the real person and then steal her entire life? Of course not, but that's why it's entertaining, right?

In children's writing, we often make leaps from reality to fiction. We make animals talk. We give kids magical powers. We do all sorts of things beyond the realm of true life.

But the truth is, we are adults writing for and about children. So, sometimes we may need a little help flexing those imaginative muscles. Soap operas are great for thinking beyond everyday life. Thinking of what could happen (if it isn't likely).   Even thinking of what could never happen, because sometimes that is just the ticket for a storyline, especially for children.

And yet, even in stories for children, we have to believe in an unbelieveable storyline. We can't just go willy nilly crazy, it has to have enough believability for us to buy into it. Writers for soap operas are masters at this. They draw us in and force us to suspend our disbelief for the hour that we watch. We must do the same in our writing for kids. We must ask children to suspend their disbelief while they read our story.

I promise my children's stories won't have any story arcs with parents having affairs, or crazy people pushing other crazy people off of buildings, or people dying and then coming back to life. But maybe, just maybe, watching soap operas might get my mind to do a little stretching.

At least I hope so.  Otherwise I'll have to find something else to do while I'm avoiding housework, a challenging manuscript, writing a blog post, or other work-that I really should be doing.

Author Interview: Steve Cormey

2011-05-14T14:25:00.007-05:00

Today I'm hosting an interview with Steve Cormey, author of The Brother's Foot.

What inspired you to write?

I have always loved music and songs. Lyrics that tell a story and then put to music have always been what I have tried to achieve and into my writing. Some songs without music can still be a poem or a story. Those are my favorites.

Do you consider yourself a born writer?

No. I have always liked to read books and when I first started writing songs the music came easily and the lyrics were difficult. Later on, it became the opposite and the words and stories came before the music. Of course, the best songs come when the two visit you at the same time.

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block?

Yes. I used to worry about it but now I know that someday when I least expect it… thoughts will start flowing again. There might be writers out there that are under some kind of deadline. I am lucky in that I can take a walk into the mountains and leave it all behind. Of course, I always have a pen and notebook to jot something down if the mood strikes me.

Have you had any training to become a writer?

No. ( just the school of 'Hard Knocks).

What type of books do you mostly write?

I’ve written many songs but only the one children’s book and a sequel to that so far. I do have an outline for a history of my 40 years on my home planet of Grand Lake ( as I recall the years I‘ve spent here) or maybe you might just call it… my memoirs .

What is the most difficult part of writing?

I suppose that would be finding the inspiration. As I stated before, I am mostly a songwriter and I love to write about the people I’ve met and the places I’ve been.

What well known writers do you admire most?

Pat Conroy, Faulkner, Hemingway and Jimmy Buffett

What voice do you find most to your liking?

The little voice in my head that comes to me in my dreams and hopefully speaks English.

What is your creative process like? What happens before sitting down to write?

I never know. Today, it’s a Vegemite sandwich and a glass of wine.

Do you do first drafts on a computer or by hand?

Most of the time, I write my thoughts down on paper ( a notebook, scrap paper but mostly bar napkins). Then I go to the computer and try and make some sense of it all. After that, I print it out, read it and hope I don’t have too many ’spell check’ errors. If it works, I save it to look at the next day and decide to keep it or not. If it doesn’t, I forget about it and go to the bar! (remember… Hemingway, Faulkner, Buffett and don’t forget Keith Richards).

Author and Illustrator Spotlight: Rhonda Eden and Steve Cormey

2011-05-13T13:36:00.000-05:00

This month, as part of the Stories for Children World of Ink tours, I am pleased to be spotlighting the author and illustrator of the children's book, The Brother's Foot. Author Steve Cormey and Illustrator Rhonda Eden invite you to, "Come sing, dance and play with three rambunctious little rabbits in their happy little briar patch, because.... "that's where rabbits love to play!" They have peculiar names and play peculiar games and always, always together. You'll have a great time singing along to their own special song and you'll learn how powerful one little song can be when something scary, something no rabbit had ever seen before, comes right into their precious little briar patch. Play along with the guitar to the music in the book or email the author at Stephencormey@comcast.net to get your very own copy of the CD and DVD. So hop along and have some fun with The Brothers Foot.

Rhonda Eden

Ronda Eden was born in Adelaide, South Australia and spent her childhood dreaming about horses. She’s spent most of her adult life wandering around in a state of confusion over what she really wanted to do and now, middle-aged, she’s living her childhood dream. Ronda’s been a factory worker, Chinese cook’s assistant, pharmacy assistant, teacher, storyteller, writer, waitress, bartender, dishwasher, cleaner, touring art curator, gallery owner, horse trainer and artist A.O.T. (Among Other Things).

Ronda’s hobbies include the joy of hiking, climbing, wind surfing, belly dancing, jogging, traveling, swimming, daydreaming, listening to music and of course, horse riding. Apart from the later, none of these activities get much of her attention these days. Especially travel! Ronda loves it right where she is, doing exactly what she is doing. Ya’see, Ronda lives in Laramie, Wyoming with her husband Mernie and together they run a horse boarding operation with 60 horses, 2 mules, a miniature donkey and a tough, bad boy tomcat. Ronda still manages to be an artist A.O.T (Among Other Things) in between feeding, riding and shoveling poop, but the horses come first. She does travel during the summers, but a couple of the horses go with her and together they cover hundreds of miles on the endurance trails of the Mountain Region. Ronda plans to be hoisting her creaky ole body onto a horse and riding high well into her old age!

Happy Trails to you, Ronda Eden aka Ronnie Roo.

Ronda Eden’s Websites: www.cafepress.com/ronniesprints

http://rondaeden.blogspot.com/

Steve Cormey

A third generation Coloradan, Steve Cormey has entertained the people of Grand County and Colorado for over thirty years. An award winning songwriter, he has written, produced and released six very successful CDs while playing an always full schedule of live performances.

His background in Folk ,bluegrass, rock and traditional music is evident whether live or on CD. Colorado Blue, Somewhere with a Beach, Never Summer..forever home, Walking Stick and the all solo-acoustic Pure & Simple CDs offer a potpourri of musical styles, and his Old Fashioned Christmas is a Yule Tide favorite. Steve’s live performances show off a talented mix of danceable music, humor and fun!

Steve makes his home in Grand County, Colorado. Although he has entertained in Australia, South Africa, Mexico, the Caribbean, Hawaii and around the country, you can usually catch his act in the shadows of the Never Summer Mountains of Colorado.

sites to look at.. http://www.stevecormeymusic.com/

http://www.footfootsong.com/

The View From The Bridge

2011-05-07T07:30:00.002-05:00

This was my first post, almost three years ago. In it, I look back at the day my first born came into this world. Today my baby girl is turning 9 and I am reposting it in honor of her birthday.

I am searching in a dark closet, boxes piled atop one another and myself precariously poised on a chair with wheels. My daughter calls to me, vaguely interested in what I am intent on finding but somewhat annoyed that whatever it is, it has apparently consumed me. A few hours ago, my six year old little girl found the veil and head piece made of twisted grapevine and holding the remnants of dried white roses that I wore at my wedding. As we talked about weddings and mostly about the fancy garb women wear, the idea of showing her my wedding album flashed through my mind.

Memories of that magical evening are floating through my mind with the ethereal quality of many years that have past. I find myself remembering the days before my husband and I were married, before we had children and how utterly unhappy when I think about it now, I was.

When most people think of their childless years they remember fondly the abandon and freedom with which they spent their days. But when I look back, I think of how completely without purpose most of my days felt. Bars and nightclubs filled my evenings each weekend and the days were spent mostly recovering from the night before. I struggled through college classes that seemed never ending and through which I struggled to find meaning and purpose beyond that letter grade.

I looked toward the gap that separated my child less life with that of a life of “Mommy I need that!” and “Mommy can you help me!” and I did not see just a gap but a chasm as deep and wide as the Taos Gorge.

After I graduated from college, I began a professional career. My co-workers were mostly women in their early thirties, who had husbands and children. I would see them coming through the door at 8 am, bleary eyed and, telling stories of a baby who was up all night, staying up late to pack lunches, or help a son or daughter with a project. My boss would tell me how she often fell asleep with her child, never getting even a few moments of time to herself. Ugh, I would think, how completely boring and unbearable. Although I knew kids were in my future, the thought of a life such as this, so different from my own, put a knot of panic in my stomach.

The funny thing is, my life wasn’t all that great as it was. Sure I had the freedom to party, stay up late, or go out when I wanted, but at the time I didn’t realize that though it was often fun to do those things, I was totally unfulfilled. If I am honest, I have to admit that I didn’t like myself very much in those days. I made poor choices, no doubt fueled on by a poor self image that paradoxically left me feeling even worse. All of these things were somewhat beneath the surface of conscious thought though so instead of having a name for my ills, they just sort of lurked and caused me to feel a general sense of blah.

When I got pregnant with my daughter I was scared to death. I always knew that one day there would be children in my life, but here, now? The sense of panic was almost unbearable. And coupled with the fear came the hourly urge to vomit. A mere whif of what used to be my favorite food cooking, someone in the office with just a hint too much perfume, even my daily savoir coffee would send me to the bathroom at lightening speed. Sick and scared, not exactly the way to begin the life of my little one now was it?

Or was it? Looking back, I cringe at the thought of what I was going through, but I realize that the difficulty of the situation was a catalyst for a change that was probably too frightening to contemplate without a push. So I stood on the bridge, on one side watching my life as it was before with everyone close to me still in it, going on as normal. Watching on the other side a life I could yet only imagine- my view obscured by the fog of the future. It wouldn’t quite be accurate to say that I was in limbo, because that would imply that I was in a static place. This place was moving and changing everyday, I was traveling over the bridge of transition.

Nowadays that bridge is a mere shadow in the distance. 6 (9 today!)years have passed since the day that little line made such big changes in my life. But what was so completely unexpected was that parenthood not only made me a better person, it made me a happier one too.

We have all seen the movies that highlight how difficult parenthood is, the challenges it brings, especially between husband and wife. The sleepless nights, the crying, the work. But my kids brought me the opportunity to see myself in their eyes. I wanted to like what I saw in them and I wanted them to like me too. Its not that I wanted a couple of new best friends in my kids, just that I wanted to be proud of the way I mothered. I want to look back on my kids childhood, and say, yeah, I did a good job. So somewhere in the toil of parenting I found myself. Not the person who could drink margaritas until 3:00 am or dance until 6, but one who has become stronger through hardwork and selflessness. Because giving up a little of yourself makes room for the love of others.

Over time, my memories of the other side faded. Soon, every day life, my work, my time with my family became more important, more up front and center. I took new pride in what I did and stopped obsessing over what I didn’t have. This was a better place by far and the freedom I felt in a life with husband and children was certainly more freeing then without.

I show my daughter our wedding album and she is mildly amused. She tells me she will never get married and that she will live with mommy and daddy forever. I don’t argue, this is her logic at six and I practice now not being attached to her decisions. She will have to make them someday but I simply tell her, “there’s plenty of time to decide who you will marry and if you will marry, it’s not something you need to think about now.”

My husband and I, spurred on by the glitter of the night we were married, found ourselves in our marriage. We loved eachother since the day we met and our wedding was a fairy tale that still plays like a Disney movie in my mind. Yet beginning with the birth of our daughter, we went through many frightening and challenging times. At 9 months our baby girl was diagnosed with a heart arrhythmia that had to be treated with electro shock therapy to her heart and almost 2 weeks spent in the hospital trying out dangerous heart medications when that didn’t work. When I was pregnant with our son, most of my pregnancy was considered high risk and he was born at 36 weeks with immature lungs. Countless hardships happened to our family, some big some small. But one thing is for certain, adversity has made us a team my husband and I. Adversity has made us understand what is truly important in life- our family.

I remember that bridge though, as I cross others. Life is full of bridges- cross them but don’t forget them. Just know that you can’t go back over them so live where you are. Find the gifts that maturity brings.

I realize how lucky I am and that many stories don’t have such a happy ending. But it’s not just a happy ending that luck brought me.

It's that I chose to cross the bridge.

Follow up Article to "Saying No"

2011-05-02T11:09:00.001-05:00

I wrote a blog post a little while back called "Saying No". In it, I talked about how I was proud of my daughter for being able to tell her friends "no" when she felt the situation necessitated it. Her friends were not being mean or bullying her, but none the less, these were situations Maya felt she needed to say no, whether to preserve her own needs at the time, or to preserve her belongings.

However, when I came across this article, I realized a bigger importance in being able to say no-something I hadn't even considered when I wrote my post. One that may preserve a child's safety and mental health too.

I've pasted the article below, but it can be accessed at: http://www.lovingyourchild.com/2010/05/raising-kids-assertiveness/

Raising kids: The Importance of Assertiveness
by Mridula Dixet

Many children find themselves at the receiving end of bullies and in other distressing and confusing situations that can erode a fragile and impressionable self-concept. This two-part article highlights the importance of teaching the child to be assertive.

Being bullied can erode your child's fragile and impressionable self-concept.

Her teachers, friends and family have always looked upon my eight-year-old daughter, Malvika, as a well-mannered, courteous and affectionate child. Not surprising really, considering that I have assiduously drilled her in the ‘P’s and Q’s’. I was quite content - almost smug – about my parenting prowess until recently, when we relocated and she went to a new school.

We follow a tradition of having a ‘fun lunch box’ on Fridays – a ritual she looks forward to all week. Suddenly, she seemed reluctant to carry goodies and insisted I stick to routine menus. Her reason? “My classmates eat my lunch and I have none left.” Clearly, she was having trouble confronting bullies and in a new set up, she found it even more daunting.

The Power Of No

I realized then that a new word needed to be added to the P’s and Q’s – a simple ‘No’. We discussed this and I told her that all she had to say was, “No. It is my lunch and I want to eat it.”

She was worried. “Will they listen to me?”

I said, “Try it and let’s see.”

She came back ecstatic. “Mom, today I ate my entire lunch.”

Gone was the helpless dejection; instead, I could see a sense of achievement and a feeling of control.

‘No’ is a potent word, and not necessarily negative. In fact, it can ward off the menace of peer pressure, addictions and sexual exploitation. Often, a misled adolescent’s parent is left wondering, “Where did I go wrong? I gave him/her the right values.” Sure, as parents, we instill sound morals. However, as we stress on goodness and co-operation, we inadvertently neglect to teach our children to stand by those same values, even if it means non-conformity.

It would be simplistic to declare that merely teaching your child to say ‘no’ launches him/her as a winner on life’s battlefield. We need to teach our children to be assertive.

What Is Assertiveness?

For most people, there seem to be two behavioral approaches – aggression and acceptance. The more effective option, however, is assertiveness.

There is a vast difference between being assertive and being aggressive. Assertiveness is letting people know your wants and needs; aggressiveness is imposing those wants and needs on others. An aggressive child will try to oust a playmate out of her swing; a passive one will just hope he gets a chance without voicing his desire. An assertive one, on the other hand, would say, “I’d like a turn when you’re done.”

Assertiveness is a socially acceptable alternative to aggression. Children displaying assertiveness engage in purposeful acts to express themselves or to protect their rights while respecting the rights and feelings of others. (Slaby et al, 1995).

According to psychologists, assertive children behave in the following manner:

1) Resist unreasonable demands – “No, I will not give you my eraser. I still need it”

2) Refuse to tolerate aggression – “Stop calling me Squeaky Mouse”/“Do not push”

3) Stand up against unfair treatment – “It’s my turn”/“Please stay in the queue”

4) Accept logical disagreement – “Okay, I see what you mean”

5) Suggest solutions to conflicts – “You can have my crayon in a minute”

Some children are simply born comfortable with saying what they want, while others are inherently more shy or passive. However, you do not want to override natural tendencies by strong-arming a timid youngster into trying out for the lead in a play.

“Trying to force a child into a role that’s not comfortable for her in order to boost her confidence may have the opposite effect,” says Graeme Hanson, M.D., clinical professor of psychiatry and pediatrics at the University of California, San Francisco. It will also make her miserable.

However, the good news is that since assertiveness is a skill, it can be learned. It is an ongoing process and needs to begin somewhere after the first birthday! The next article will cover parenting styles that nurture assertiveness.

Copyright © Mridula Dixit
Mridula Dixit is a clinical psychologist and currently doing her internship in parenthood.

Cultivating Joy

2011-04-30T19:52:00.007-05:00

"I do it for the joy it brings, because I am a joyful girl
Because the world owes us nothing
We owe eachother the world

I do it because it's the least I can do
I do it cause I learned it from you
I do it just because I want to
Because I want to...."
~Ani DiFranco, Joyful Girl

There are things in my life that make me angry. There are things that make me sad. There are things that frustrate me to no end. But in general, I choose to be happy. That's right, I said I choose.

I think in life, we largely have the option to choose how we want to react to any given situation. As a parent, I largely choose to be happy. To be joyful. Because that is the legacy I want to leave my children. Joy.

Now, I know that there are plenty of situations as a parent that cause anything from irritation to downright rage. And I am not a stranger to those emotions. But many times when I start to feel anger creeping up, I just stop it in its tracks. Smush it like a spider.

Because to me, much of our irritation with children is because they are simply, well, children. We have grown out of being loud and silly and annoying. We have grown out of our hyperactivity and our childlike sense of wonder. We have the weight of the world on our shoulders. We have bitten the apple.

But I have not forgotten the garden.

I have not forgotten that I am not only teaching my children how to follow rules, to behave, to clean their rooms and eat their vegetables, but I am also teaching them how to live. How to view life.

I want my kids to see life-the simple everyday kind of life-as joyful. Not just the fun times. Not just the birthday parties and Christmas and the Fourth of July- but life as it is now. Because this life is a gift-one that is better than any gift you could get at a birthday party or at Christmas. Better than any fireworks on the Fourth of July.

So I choose to laugh. Everyday. I plant joy in my life and in those of my children. I tend it, care for it. In the chopping of onions for dinner. In the waking of my sleepy headed kids at 6:30 am. In the driving them to school soon thereafter. In every way I can. Wherever there is a seed, I ask it to grow.

I cultivate joy.

~EBL

The Truth About Being A Nice Mom

2011-04-26T19:45:00.008-05:00

This is truth according to me at least. I admit that I'd like to be persuasive here. But I know that we parents are a stubborn bunch. We tend to think we have it all figured out (or at least most of it) and I am no exception. I'd like however to just offer some food for thought. Chew it over. Taste it's distinctively different flavor. In other words, keep an open mind.

I'm a pretty nice parent. That often gets misinterpreted as being a push over mom. Too permissive. Too down right nice. I rarely yell and I rarely "punish" my kids. I speak with respect to them. I let them make decisions. Sometimes I let them persuade me. I listen to them.

I know how this sounds. It sounds like I'm too nice.

And what are the problems of being too nice, I ask you? What do we as parents fear? That our kids won't follow rules? That they won't have respect for adults? That they will try and get away with whatever they can? Is it the, "give 'em an inch and they'll take a mile" fear?  Is it simply just the job of parents to be in control of kids as much as possible?

Could be all of those things. But I ask you to consider our household as just one example of how one can be a nice parent and have well-behaved kids at the same time. There are others though, and our numbers are growing. Sheesh, that sounded a little cultish, didn't it?   Don't worry, there's not even one packet of kool-aid in my house.

First of all, let me just say that my kids are both extremely well-behaved at home and even more so at school. My son, who is 5, has only been given one warning his entire kindergarten year and earned the Student of the Week recognition. He reads at a mid-first grade level and excels in almost all subjects. I can count the times my third grade daughter has received a warning in all her 4 years of school, on three fingers. She reads way above level and is an honor roll student. Both kids say please and thank you to adults wherever they are. They behave well in public too. Furthermore, while they do engage in technology, they also love to read and draw, play sports and ride bikes. They both have lots of friends and just about every day our house rings with the sound of their play.

Now, of course they are not perfect and have their moments, but my point is they are generally very well-behaved and smart too. They have never been spanked and we have only used time out a few times when they were around 2-3 years old- and only for out of control behavior. Rather, we explain things to them, give them logical consequences to mistakes, and help them to understand the effects of their actions.

But using such non-punishment takes viewing our kids through a particular lens. A child development perspective allows us to see what we consider negative behavior as a function of the child's development. For example, two year olds are pushing at the limits of baby-hood. The months leading up to the "terrible twos" as it is called, are filled with mommy or daddy doing for baby. Now baby wants to do for himself. And he should-within limits- he's not ready to drive to the grocery store. Yet. But not allowing him to flex some "me do it" muscles leads to power struggles and tantrums galore in an effort to get what he needs. Not that there won't be any tantrums, but most likely they'll be fewer if he is allowed to feel his independence.

Each age and stage of a child's life is full of such needs. The two year old example is an easy one, simply because it is the stage parents most often begin to have difficult with. But don't mistake a developmental need with manipulation or bad behavior. It is our job as parents to understand these needs and stages of development. It is our job to understand our child and his unique temperament too, which by the way, also plays a big role in his behavior.

There is information at our fingertips, we need to use it. I'm not talking about parenting techniques so much as I am about child development. And understanding our child, well that diploma can only be earned through time. A scarce commodity these days, I know, but one worth fighting for.

Children are inherently good, they just don't know how to behave yet. They don't know how to get their needs met without childish behavior like crying and whining and grabbing and kicking feet. Oh wait, they are children. Thus, they are learning. It is our job to teach them. But teaching a child depends largely on how much they trust and feel connected to their parents. If they don't value their relationship with their parents, they won't care what their parents have to say.

Allow me to present a few "if" questions to you, which I know, are highly unempirical, but I think useful to ponder. If we beat kids down every time they make a mistake, will they admit to making a mistake? Probably not.  If we spank them when they do something wrong, do they learn what to do instead? No, they learn that mommy or daddy hits them when they are mad. They learn fear, distrust, resentment. If we treat them as bad, do they come to think of themselves as bad?  I think yes.

Understanding the needs of children can prevent or stop bad behavior. But treating them as bad only begets more badness, pardon my grammer. Giving children attention and control makes them need it less-makes them fight less to get it.  Allowing kids to make mistakes by turning those mistakes into learning opportunities takes the shame out of failure.

Limits need to be set of course, but you don't have to yell or be mean to set them. You don't have to shame or belittle them. You can just say, what, when, and why. What if they are too young to understand you ask?  If they are too young to understand, then they are too young to be purposefully behaving badly. They are only attempting to get a need met. Figure it out. There is always a reason for behavior.

It takes spending time with your child, being connected to them (have I said that before?) Talking to them. Listening. And perhaps most importantly, letting go of so much control.

To boil it down to it's simplest compounds, let me just say this: In parenting (as well as in life) choose the positive over the negative. Choose kindness over being mean. Choose being gentle over using force.   Choose empathy over your own jaded adult perspective. Choose education over punishment. Choose independence over dependence. And here's what kind of kid you get: positive, kind, gentle, empathetic, educated, independent.

I know it goes against so much of what we think about parenting. But I ask you to consider my argument. I have worked with kids for going on 10 years and I promise you that in my experience, the kids that are punished the hardest, controlled the most, behave the worst.

This world is full of anger and violence. Parenting hasn't changed much in the last hundred years, has society gotten better or worse? I ask you, I implore those of you who have been brave enough to take on the most challenging job in the world, that of a parent, to consider another way. Not to be permissive and set no rules or limits at all, just to set them in a different way. A kind, compassionate, non-punitive way.

Consider kindness. It's never too late.

"It's okay to be kind to our children. It's okay to give them a feeling of abundance. Knowing that their own needs and wants are valued will only make them want to help others to meet their needs and wants too. Kindness begets kindness."~Rue Cream

~EBL

Bits and Pieces

2011-04-25T06:09:00.001-05:00

There are pieces of paper strewn about the living room floor. Bits and pieces cut from larger sheets, now the manifestation of some idea born in my daughter's mind. There are markers, some capless, and toys here and there from my son and his rowdy playmates. And there are socks. Everywhere. From little people and one big one too.

Years ago, when my kids were small, I made a very concious decision. I chose to leave those daily messes that often consume our every waking moment when we have little kids amongst us. I made a decision to choose my kids over the mess.

Before you go imagining a hoarder house, let me say that it's not a trash heap over here. These days, I actually have more time to clean now that both kids are in school. But I remember a time when our playroom was downstairs and seemingly always in disarray. One day, a good friend who also happens to live down the street came over. On that fateful day, the playroom in the front of the house was clean. Our friend made a remark about how surprised he was to see the floor.

That little twinge of embarassment flared in me. But then I remembered my decision. I chose to let those small bits and pieces go and play with my kids. To sit on the dirty floor with them. To let them make messes. To enjoy life. To most importantly, not worry about those little bits and pieces. Because in the end, (and isn't that where we always end up?), what matters most? That we had a clean house? Or that we spent as much time together as possible? Playing. Loving.

Living.

The Energy

2011-04-19T12:10:00.001-05:00

I heard Tyler Perry say recently, that to overcome all the hurt he had had in his life, he used the energy of that pain and put it into something positive: writing.

That idea rang true for me. Not that I have had the kind of pain Tyler has, but we all have pain in our lives. We all have things that make us sad, or angy, or frustrated. Emotions are energy. Anyone remember that Public Image Limited song from the '80's? "Anger is an energy.." That's why when we're angry, we often feel like punching someone (thing). The trick is to find a way to expend it in a positive way and that takes a lot of self-discipline. It's easy to do when we're overcome with joy, we just jump up and down and squeal with happiness. But those negative emotions are harder to wrangle.

As a young adult in my 20's, I'd often be stricken with meloncholy. I'd put on some sad music, grab a bottle of wine and write terribly sappy poetry. By the time the music was over, my depression (and the wine) would be gone. The energy spent.

And that's still what I do today (sans the wine). I write. Whether it be joy, or anger, or sadness, it's the emotion behind my writing that fuels it. It's my channel. I think everyone should find such an avenue for the energy of their emotions. Because without one, that negativity will turn either inward or outward. Both can be destructive. At best we end up with neuroses. At worst we might end up with shootings. And somewhere in the middle we get a life-and the lives of those we love- not lived to its fullest. And that's a shame.

Write. Paint. Sing. Dance. Whatever floats your boat. But let that energy out. Because this world has enough pain in it.

Saying No

2011-04-14T17:11:00.002-05:00

Once in a while, one of Maya's friends will come to the door and ask to play. Sometimes she says yes, but sometimes she says no. Politely of course. It usually comes out something like this, "I'm sorry, I just don't feel like playing right now." No lies, white or otherwise.

The other day, when one of the little girls left our door looking crestfallen, I commented on how sad she looked. Maya said, "I know, whenever I tell my friends 'no', they look like that."

And in that instance I realized that my daughter can say "no". Not the kind of 'no' kids say all the time, "No I don't want to eat my broccoli. No, I don't want to go to school. No, I didn't do it." I mean the kind of no that preserves one's needs. The kind that sometimes means a friend might get upset with you.

So many of us are stricken with the people pleasing disease. Afraid to displease someone. Afraid their disappointment is some sort of reflection of our own self worth. I, at 39 (gasp!), have only learned how to do this myself, without feeling terribly guilty in the last few years-grasping at the wispy reality that other's reactions are not my responsibility.

So I told her (and myself), "You have the right to say no." And I am grateful that even though my girl may have inherited (or learned or both) some of my social anxiety, she can do this one thing. Say "no".

Reading to Kids Matters. A Lot.

2011-04-12T09:00:00.005-05:00

Everyone knows that reading to kids is important, but can we really articulate exactly why? Read the following article and then go out and buy the kid in your life a book.

If You'd Like to Know Why Reading Matters

by Barbara Freedman-De Vito

Why Do We Tell Children to Read?

We're always telling children that books and reading are good for them, but have we ever really thought about why that's true? Exactly what do older children get out of reading novels? What do younger kids get from being read to? Does reading matter?

The purpose of this article is to say that, yes, it's true, reading really is important, and that there are some solid reasons why that is so. Let's begin with the practical benefits and then move on to the less tangible rewards of a life filled with reading.

Books Help Children Develop Vital Language Skills

Reading is an important skill that needs to be developed in children. Not only is it necessary for survival in the world of schools and (later on) universities, but in adult life as well. The ability to learn about new subjects and find helpful information on anything from health problems and consumer protection to more academic research into science or the arts depends on the ability to read.

Futurologists used to predict the death of the printed word but, ironically, Internet has made reading more and more a part of people's daily lives. The paperless society is a myth. The computer's ability to process and analyze data means that endless variations on reports and other types of documents can be and are generated. Internet, itself an enormous new source of information and recreation, is based on the humble written word. To effectively utilize the web and judge the authenticity and value of what is found there, both reading and critical thinking skills are of prime importance.

The more children read, the better they become at reading. It's as simple as that. The more enjoyable the things they read are, the more they'll stick with them and develop the reading skills that they'll need for full access to information in their adult lives. Reading should be viewed as a pleasurable activity - as a source of entertaining tales and useful and interesting factual information.

The more young children are read to, the greater their interest in mastering reading. Reading out loud exposes children to proper grammar and phrasing. It enhances the development of their spoken language skills, their ability to express themselves verbally.

Reading, by way of books, magazines or websites, exposes kids to new vocabulary. Even when they don't understand every new word, they absorb something from the context that may deepen their understanding of it the next time the word is encountered. When parents read aloud to children, the children also hear correct pronunciation as they see the words on the page, even if they can't yet read the words on their own.

Reading Can Open Up New Worlds and Enrich Children's Lives

As mentioned above, reading opens doors - doors to factual information about any subject on earth, practical or theoretical. Given the wealth of available resources such as Internet, libraries, schools and bookstores, if children can read well and if they see reading as a source of information, then for the rest of their lives they will have access to all of the accumulated knowledge of mankind, access to all of the great minds and ideas of the past and present. It truly is magic !

Through books, children can also learn about people and places from other parts of the world, improving their understanding of and concern for all of humanity. This, in turn, contributes towards our sense that we truly live in a "global village" and may help us bring about a more peaceful future for everyone. This can happen through nonfiction but, perhaps even more importantly, reading novels that are set in other places and time periods can give children a deeper understanding of others through identification with individual characters and their plights.

Through stories and novels children can vicariously try out new experiences and test new ideas, with no negative consequences in their real lives. They can meet characters who they'll enjoy returning to for comforting and satisfying visits when they reread a cherished book or discover a sequel. Books also give kids the opportunity to flex their critical thinking skills in such areas as problem solving, the concepts of cause and effect, conflict resolution, and acceptance of responsibility for one's actions. Mysteries allow children to follow clues to their logical conclusions and to try to outguess the author. Even for very young children, a simple story with a repetitive refrain or a simple mystery to solve gives a confidence boost. Children can predict the patterns and successfully solve the riddles.

Children are influenced by and imitate the world around them. While a steady diet of violent cartoons may have a detrimental effect on children's development, carefully chosen stories and books can have a positive influence on children, sensitizing them to the needs of others. For example, books can encourage children to be more cooperative, to share with others, to be kind to animals, or to respect the natural environment.

Reading Can Enhance Children's Social Skills

Although reading is thought of as the quintessential solitary activity, in certain circumstances reading can be a socializing activity. For example, a parent or grandparent reading a story aloud, whether from a traditional printed book or from an ebook, can be a great opportunity for adult and child to share some quiet, relaxed quality time together away from the rush and stresses of the business of daily living. They share a few minutes of precious time, plus they share the ideas that are contained in the story. In addition, older children can be encouraged to read aloud to younger ones as a means of enhancing their relationship.

At school or at a library story hour, books can bring children together and can be part of a positive shared experience. For some preschoolers this may be their primary opportunity to socialize and to learn how to behave around other children or how to sit quietly for a group activity. Make the most of this experience by encouraging children to talk about what they've read or heard.

Reading Can Improve Hand-Eye Coordination

It may sound funny, but ebooks can be a way for children to improve their fine motor skills and their hand-eye coordination, as they click around a childfriendly website or click the backward and forward buttons of online story pages. They may also be picking up valuable computer skills that they'll need in school and later in life.

Reading Can Provide Children with Plenty of Good, Clean Fun

I've saved the most important point for last. Reading can provide children with endless hours of fun and entertainment. All of the pragmatic reasons above aren't at all necessary to justify reading's place in children's lives. Stories can free up imaginations and open up exciting new worlds of fantasy or reality. They allow children to dream and may give them a good start on the road to viewing reading as a lifelong source of pleasure; so read to your young children every day.

Inspire your older children to read. Give them access to plenty of reading material that they'll enjoy and discuss it with them. Sample everything - traditional printed books and ebooks on Internet, classic children's novels and fairy tales, as well as more modern stories.

If a child wants to hear the same story over and over again, don't worry about it. Children take comfort from the familiarity and predictability of a beloved story that they know by heart. There's no harm in that. Reread old favorites and, at the same time, introduce your children to new stories. Your child's mind and heart have room for both.

So Reading Really Does Matter After All

There are so many ways in which reading continues to be both a vital skill for children to master, and an important source of knowledge and pleasure that can last a lifetime. Nurture it in your children. Make the most of all the resources that are available and waiting for you: printed books, online books, magazines and so forth. Encourage follow-up activities involving creative writing skills and the arts, as well, so that your children can reflect upon or expand on what they've absorbed and, at the same time, develop their own creativity. As you help your kids appreciate the magic of reading, you'll find that there's a whole wonderful world full of children's literature out there that YOU can enjoy too.

~Barbara Freedman-De Vito �2004

Problems with Playmates

2011-03-30T12:56:00.001-05:00

"I don't want to play anymore," Ben said to his friend. A few seconds earlier, Ben had walked into the kitchen half in tears. "I keep telling him not to talk to me while I'm playing this game. I'm trying to concentrate and his talking messes me up. But he won't stop!"

"Playing that game while your friend is here is probably not a good idea then. Play with your friend or let him know you are done playing for now," I told him. And he did.

While this scene might seem like Ben is the one being a tad unreasonable, you must understand the problems involved with this particular playmate. This friend, I'll call him H, along with one other I'll call E, often visit our home to play with Ben. And while these boys feel like more of a challenge than any previous playmates, I've tried to give them the benefit of the doubt. They are after all, only five.

But then I was sitting on the couch while the three of them played in the loft at the top of the stairs. Within easy ear shot-I wasn't eavesdropping or anything.

"Do you guys want to go to my house?" H said. "No," Ben and E replied. After which H began a barrage of attempts to get the other boys to pay more attention to him. "Want me to do this puzzle? Want me to shoot the TV with the Nerf gun? Can we play outside?" All such attempts were met with, "no."

Unfortunately, these kinds of reactions only spur H on. Driven by insecurity, his manipulations are a common part of these three musketeers. H once told E that Ben is not E's friend, simply so that H can have Ben to himself. Sometimes H will bribe one or the other with toys if they agree to go to his house to play.

And despite this, the three continue to play. And play almost everyday. And almost everyday there are arguments, hurt feelings, and sometimes tears.

There is that protective mommy in me that wants to step in and tell H to stop. Or to not let him play with Ben at all. But the other part of me, the more rational part, knows that a little conflict can be a good teaching tool. Sometimes Ben needs to figure out these complicated social puzzles on his own. Life is full of social mine fields and learning to navigate one's way through them is an important part of growing up.

But that doesn't mean my watchful mommy gaze is getting a pair of rose colored glasses. I know full well that these boys need guidance. Despite H and E's apparent freedom from much parental intervention, I am a common force when they are playing with my boy. "Stop shaking the stop sign. Pick up your trash. Get out of the street." And I take every opportunity to help Ben find the words to say what he wants or needs with these two, to express his anger appropriately, and to stand up for himself when necessary.

But as with all parenting issues, it always comes down to balancing safety with the need to let your kids learn some independence. To let them take those tiny steps on the road to grown-up-hood. I can't be with my kids every moment and I want them to learn the confidence to handle things on their own.

Sometimes.

Dream Big Little Pig

2011-03-19T11:51:00.002-05:00

Dream Big Little Pig, written by Kristi Yamaguchi and illustrated by Tim Bowers, is the story of a little pig who wants to be a big star. In the beginning, just what kind of star Poppy the pig wants to be isn't quite clear, so she sets out to try a variety of activities. She tries to be a ballerina, but she's too clumsy. She tries to be a singer, but she sings off key. She even tries to be a supermodel, but she just isn't glitzy enough. All through Poppy's failures, her family and friends are her biggest fans, and offer her the encouragement and support that finally leads Poppy to find something she loves. But only by sticking with it and getting up every time she falls, does Poppy begin to do what she loves well.

Dream Big Little Pig is written in a fun, playful style, with the kind of simplicity and well placed repetition that makes a picture book shine. Before I read the book, I wondered if the story arc might be a bit too predictable, but I was pleasantly surprised at the resolution. It is satisfying without being too obvious. Additionally, while Poppy has in fact finally discovered something she is good at, the ending shows just how big a dreamer little Poppy is as she continues to dream even beyond what she has already accomplished.

I loved the messages of persistance, never giving up, reaching for the things that you want even when they seem impossible, and the importance of family and friends. I have read this sweet story to my kids many times now, and both my boy and girl loved it. The illustrations are great and the images of a pig trying to be all those graceful and girlie things are hilarious.

My 8 year old daughter is a budding illustrator herself, and was so impressed with the book that she drew her own Poppy the Pig.

The Joys of Learning to Write

2011-02-21T10:59:00.007-06:00

So my five year old, Ben, is beginning to master the art of writing. Because of this, he has taken to leaving notes. Everywhere. I thought I'd share a sampling of his fine work.

This one is to a neighborhood kid who seems to come over a little too often. In fact, he will knock or ring the doorbell incessantly until we answer (which of course we have tried, on occasion, not to answer). Ben taped this note to the front door:

Humza, If it is just you
Do not enter

The next note, I found waiting for me on the coffetable when I got up Saturday morning. It seems we have a budding politician on our hands.

Erin, Vote for Donuts, Yes or No ____

And finally, a note he left taped to the fireplace (while there was a fire in it), just in case we didn't know. He worries. Luckily, the note did not catch on fire.

Do Not Touch

You Can Always Stay Here

2011-02-18T14:25:00.001-06:00

The other day we watched Toy Story 3. In it, Andy, the main character, goes off to college at the end of the movie. His leaving is further made heart wrenching as he gives his beloved toys to the little girl next door. Maya and I sat with tear filled eyes and hugged eachother.

Later that night, Maya said, "Mom, when I go to college, do I have to move out?"

I wanted to tell her that by then she'll want to leave. I wanted to tell her that she will be excited and ready for independence. I wanted to tell her that her feelings will change.

But instead I said, "Baby, you never have to leave home. You can always stay here."

Marching Ahead

2011-01-17T09:15:00.010-06:00

~Mo Willems

Given my intent to live my life as conciously as possible, I decided not to let this holiday slip by as just another holiday, when the kids and hubby are home from school, the banks closed, the mail stopped. So I share a recent happening in our household and the thoughts that floated around in my head following it, as a way to (hopefully) honor one of the most peaceful persons in our history.

A few nights ago, my daughter Maya said these words to me:

"My friends are my friends because of how they are, not what they look like. That's what Martin Luther King said, that you should be friends with people because of their character, not because of how they look or the color of their skin."

Through a slightly constricted throat, I told her how important that idea was. And in my mind I said a word of thanks to Dr. King. Even though I have always tried to teach my children that all people are equaI, sometimes it's the words of another person that really drive the idea home. After all, I am mother, spouter of endless words of wisdom that are tuned out daily.

I hope wherever Dr. King is in the Universe, that he knows his words are still having an impact on the generations that have followed his.

"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character."

We musn't doubt the power of words to change people. When I hear people say, "they're just words" I always cringe a little. They are just words, but there is an energy behind them, and when people are looking for justification or direction or inspiration, the words people say can be immensely powerful.

So I am grateful for the peaceful words that Dr. King spoke during his too short life. And while his words reached millions of people, I believe that change can also start within each of us-within each of our little families. I know it's cliche, but it really is a little like throwing a stone in a pond-the ripples spread out far beyond the point of the stone's entrance to the water. And so, I am doing my best to live in my small way, the words of Dr. King-to be a ripple. It is a small step, but a step forward nonetheless.

"And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.
We cannot turn back."

We must march ahead.

We owe it to our children.

We owe it to the world.

In Defense of Picture Books

2011-01-11T08:44:00.000-06:00

I love, love, LOVE this post on picture books, by blogger Camille at BookMoot. Childhood is the Prime Time for Picture Books.

The post is Camille's response to the New York Times article, Picture Books No Longer a Staple With Children. The NY Times article asserts that younger children are not reading picture books as much, because parents, in an effort to prepare kids for the rigours of standardized testing, are pushing children to read chapter books sooner. Sometimes as early as four years old.

Camille does a fabulous job of arguing the points made by the NY Times article, but I'll offer my two cents here too.

First of all, pushing a child as young as four years old to read chapter books (unless they are extremely gifted and/or self motivated) is, in my opinion, the quickest way to create a reluctant reader. The first few years of reading take a great flexing of mental muscles by children. Pushing them to go faster than they are ready to go could cause reading to become overwhelming. Heavy.

Second, even if the child does enjoy chapter books at age 4, does that mean they cannot read picture books ever?I have an 8 year old and a 5 year old and I still read them picture books every, single night. Before they read their own books. Not only is my reading to them a way to spend time with them at the end of a busy day, but they get just as much from it as they did when they couldn't read on their own. Just because a child is old enough to read, doesn't mean that they can't enjoy the benefits of being read to.

And, as Camille points out in her blog post, picture books are often much more sophisticated in terms of story arc and word choices (unless they are a book for very young readers, such as board books). As a writer of picture books, I can attest to this. Every sentence, every word has to move the plot forward. Every word is specifically chosen to pack in meaning.

I highly doubt the NY Times article is an accurate portrayal of all families in America. It certainly isn't true in mine and I've got two high level readers. But it may be one part of the problem.

I sure hope 2011 shows at least a slight upturn for the picture book market. Our kids deserve it.

Are Picture Books Doomed?

2011-01-07T18:09:00.008-06:00

Well, not likely doomed. But in trouble? Maybe.

It seems like all we hear is that the market for picture books is in terrible shape. Why? Of all the types of books, I would think that picture books would be bought the most. Children want to hear a good story again and again, unlike adults who, if they read at all, will most likely read a book once and then put it on a shelf to gather dust.

I know picture books are expensive to make. But is it perhaps that parents aren't buying picture books as often because parents don't read to kids as often?

Books were such a huge part of my life growing up, that I was reading to my kids as soon as they were born. Literally. We need some serious picture book advocates, people. And I'm not just saying that because I write picture books and I've had one too many rejections from agents and editors, saying, "The picture book market is difficult".(Well, ok, maybe I am- but just a little) I'm saying that because kids need books. They need to have their own library of books that they can return to again and again. Like a good friend.

When my daughter was in first grade, her teacher told me how impressed she was that my daughter knew an author's name, and searched for that author's books in the library. That's not something that happens very often apparently.

Are picture books becoming a lost art?

Well, I'm not giving up on them. Not without a fight. I told you, I'm ready for battle.

I think I just found myself a new job: Picture Book Advocate.

See how blissfully optimistic I am?

Inch by Inch

2011-01-01T19:34:00.008-06:00

I can't help but be hopeful about the start of this new year, especially in terms of my writing career. The past year has resulted in leaps and bounds of progress in my writing, thanks largely to my critique group.

Unfortunately, my group has suddenly seemed to fall apart for various reasons-mainly life. But in the midst of this break up, one quite remarkable thing happened to me: I won a free edit by an associate agent at the Mark McVeigh Agency (just about anyone who knows this agency, would do just about anything to be a client-at least I would).

I started reading Robin Crew's blog sometime last month. And while his no nonsense, no apologies attitude is a far cry from my own, I find his blog an interesting and often fun read. As someone who values honesty, especially when it comes to writing, I can't knock him.

So, I jumped at the chance to win a free edit by being the first to comment on his blog one day. I mean, a free edit! People pay hundreds of dollars for those! (See, there is something good about being attached at the hip to my computer) And while he conceded that picture books were not his thing, he graciously offered to give my story a "whirl" anyway.

Admittedly, a part me entertained grandiose thoughts of getting my story back with a comment such as, "This is so great, I'm going to send it over to Mark right away!" (Yeah, I know. Even I am sickened by my optimism at times) But after the initial shock of not seeing those words, I looked at my story with fresh eyes and got to work.

You can read some of Robin's edits on my story here:
http://crewdphilosophy.blogspot.com/2011/01/monster-pageant-critique.html

Recently, a new critique partner of mine apologized for treading so heavily on one of my manuscripts. I told him that honesty is the only thing that can make us better writers. That's why we have critique groups. That's why we jump at the chance to get any feedback we can, right?

So here's to a new year of honest writing, thicker skin (I'm not entirely sure mine will ever be thick enough, but I'll gladly don a suit of callouses if it makes my writing better) and inching ever closer to that contract. It's a little like a battle. But I'm ready for the fight.

And I relish every inch of territory I get.

The Divinity of Boredom

2010-12-12T09:27:00.006-06:00

I saw this quote on Agent Mark McVeigh's blog the other day:

"Soon silence will have passed into legend. Man has turned his back on silence. Day after day he invents machines and devices that increase noise and distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation, meditation."~Jean Arp

This idea stuck with me and it had me thinking (and turning off the television more often than not), that perhaps it is not only silence that is passing into legend, but boredom.

What's so great about boredom you ask? Boredom is a catalyst for creativity. Our lives are not only filled with distractions these days, but technology and endless busy-ness that largely do the creating for us. They are robbing us of original thought and the need to fulfill the creative spirit-which, I believe, is the divine passing through us.

Television tells the stories for us. Video games take the place of pretending. Endless activities keep us from noticing and acting upon that creative spark within us.

And its not only creativity- when we stop and are quiet for any length time, we notice our feelings too. For many of us, feelings can be scary, they are something to be avoided. But as Scott Peck discusses in his book, The Road Less Traveled, God as we know him, may very well speak to us through our subconcious. Are we really listening if we are constantly filling our lives with noise and activity?

So here's to boredom. Next time you hear yourself or your kids whining about being bored-just wait it out and see what comes from it. Who knows, maybe you'll discover some divine inspiration.

Leaves of Change

2010-11-25T18:02:00.010-06:00

Maya jumped off her bike and kicked it where it lay. "I hate you bike!" she said. The bike was easy to blame, it didn't argue- didn't try to tell her to keep trying. Unlike me.

"It's going to take a lot of practice to learn how to ride a two-wheeler," I told her. The heat of this November day was just as frustrating. "It's November," I'd said earlier. "Why is it 80 degrees out?"

Sweaty and frowning, Maya stomped away from her motionless bike saying, "I never even want to look at that bike again!"

I sat on the lawn, irritated, but knowing that this was her frustration to own and work through. Knowing I'd have to stifle my own frustration in order to be supportive.

Just then, a cool breeze blew over us and quickly turned into a cold wind. The leaves on the trees, brown and crisp, but hanging on with the last of their leafy muscles, flew like migrating birds on the wind. The gray clouds their sudden backdrop.

The change was so dramatic, that we looked at one another, our mouths open, our eyes questioning: what the...? Struck by the wonder of it- the kids dashed about, arms raised, trying to catch the leaves as they flew overhead. The wind whipped back our hair, cooling our tempers, easing our frustrations.

Just like that, it was cold, although the rays of the sun broke through a small space of gray. A reminder that nothing ever stays the same, even when it feels like it will never change. And we reveled in that joy.

Perhaps during those times when we feel a little bit off, or even a little too on, a change is what we need. A change in scenery. A change in temperature. A change in point of view. Because sometimes we get stuck in our thinking, stuck in our moods. And being stuck is static-it's a place of inaction, and it's usually neither productive nor positive.

Sometimes a little change is all we need to refresh our spirits.

As the trees bared their arms in the wind, I coaxed Maya into rescuing her bike from its crash site. She walked it begrudgingly into the garage, but with a little less hatred this time.

She'll ride it again, I'm sure. And I'm sure she'll get just as frustrated the next time, because that's my girl. But if she really wants to do it, she will-eventually. Maybe we'll change where she rides it, or who she rides it with-just to keep her spirits up.

Or maybe she'll just decide to play in the leaves instead.

Not Waiting For Lightning to Strike

2010-11-19T08:07:00.004-06:00

For me, creativity has always been a little like waiting for lightning to strike. I wait for an idea to hit me and then I furiously type, hoping to keep up with the ground strikes fast enough to get the words down. But participating in PiBoIdMo (Picture Book Idea Month), has taught me something extremely valueable. Standing out in the rain waiting for lightning to strike you is dangerous. No, I already knew that. But sitting around and waiting for creativity to strike is dangerous for the creative spirit. Because for me, when I am not creating new stories, or actively working on old ones, my confidence plummets and a sort of writer's depression ensues.

But when I committed to PiBoIdMo, I committed to coming up with one picture book idea a day for the entire month of November. And that means, I can't just sit around and wait for ideas to come to me. I have to take a more active role in my creativity.

What has happened is a wash of ideas. And ideas lead to stories. So, instead of waiting for the story to come to me, I jot down ideas. Then I let my brain do a little dance out in the rain so to speak. I write down all the ideas that come up, characters, possible situations or story lines. I don't worry that none of it seems to make sense, I just put it all down. And amazingly enough, I begin to sense a shape in all that cloudy mess. Then I narrow it all down until a story line appears and crack! I just made lightning strike.

As a result, I have written three stories this month. And my confidence? It's sky high.

TV Wars

2010-10-10T18:52:00.001-05:00

In our house, we have two televisions downstairs. Well, we do have one upstairs, but it's not connected to the satellelite dish so it doesn't provide much programming. I have a rule (that no one in the house really likes except me) that tv's do not belong in bedrooms.

For the past few years, when we watched tv, AJ and I would watch on one tv, and the kids would watch on the other. Everything was hunky dory.

But now, Maya, for the most part, refuses to watch television with Ben.

"Ben, go away, this is my show! You don't even like this show!" She tells him.

And while, tv watching is not a huge part of our daily lives, it is enough of one that this new development makes things a little less smooth. Especially after school.

Frustrated at the loss of ease in our routine, I try to reason with her.

"Why can't he watch with you? What's the big deal?"

My words have no effect on her.

"Because I just want to watch by myself!" she quips.

But today, as I looked up at the show she was watching, I got it. On one tv Ben was watching a cartoon, and on the other Maya watched a sitcom that consisted of highschool kids.

Oh I get it, I thought. Because, you see, lately Maya has also been asserting her indepence. Doing things by herself, walking in to school on her own. Heck, she even made her own lunch the other day.

I understood then that she needs something she doesn't have to share with her brother. She needs something that shows she is growing up, mostly surpassing the cartoons that her little brother watches. She needs, perhaps most importantly, some space. She needs her own identity.

Isn't that just what growing up is all about? Figuring out who you are, seperate from your family?

I watch big kid shows, not Dora. I read chapter books, not baby books. I listen to the radio, not the Wiggles.

And so while she is only in third grade, I'll give her that first step. This will probably be the least of our battles on the road to growing up. Choose your battles- that's what someone (much wiser than myself) said.

Or maybe I should just get rid of all the tvs. How hard of a battle do you think that would be?

Our Little Songbirds

2010-10-05T12:13:00.006-05:00

"Everybody's singing, they just want to be heard

disappearing everyday without so much as a word...."

~Patty Griffin

Maya came up behind me and hugged me tightly around my waist.
"You and daddy are the best parents in the world," she said. "I love how you treat me. You treat me like me."

If there is one thing I could say is a common link between all children, it is that they want to be seen. They want to be heard. They want to know, as I suspect we all do, that they have an impact on their world.

When Benji was born, Maya who was then 3 years old, started having potty accidents. I was frustrated with her. I was exhausted and confused at why I was changing my daughter’s big girl underwear along with a new baby's diapers.

And to add to the messes, she soon started in with more tantrums and whining. I'd be sitting on the couch nursing Ben when all of the sudden she would need something. Now. She wanted my attention- the attention that was being given to her new baby brother. The attention she needed in this time of uncertainty and change. I could read in her eyes, Am I still here? Do you see me?

I think that just about all of our children's behavior problems come down to the need for attention. They act out, sometimes behaving badly. Sometimes they become perfectionistic, trying to be good enough for us to notice.

And yet, in my experience as a mom, that very attention has been to blame for my daughter's shyness. When Maya was in preschool, one of the teachers told me that Maya wasn't joining in the other kid's play very often.

"Do you play with her alot at home?" the woman asked me, an air of accusation in her voice. As if that could be the only explanation for her behavior.

I suddenly felt ashamed of one of the things I had always been proud of, playing with my child as often as I could. Dedicating my time as soon as I got home from work. Not pawning her off on babysitters every chance I got. Not always finding other things to do.

It was then that I knew I needed to trust my own instincts. That I knew my child better than anyone else. That she needed and deserved my attention. Maybe even more during her big step into pre-school.

I am always taken a back a bit when I hear well meaning people speak of a kid's behavior with a whiff of disdain, saying, "Oh he's just doing that to get attention." It usually makes me think, then why not give it to him? What's wrong with giving a child what he needs?

We have a fear in our society of "spoiling" children. And it is true they can be spoiled by giving them all the toys and ice cream they want. But when it comes to attention, I think the more you give them, the less they will act out to get it.

So maybe the next time we hear a child "singing" for attention, let's listen to their song. Because that need to know you are seen and heard never changes. It never really goes away. I heard Oprah say recently that everyone has the same questions, "Did you see me? Did you hear me? And did what I say mean anything to you?"

Because when those questions are not answered for children, they may, one day, decide to go looking for the answers themselves. And the problem with that is, if we, the parents who love them the most can’t give them answers, who will? Or if someone does, will they be as good as the ones we could give?

"I want to grab ahold of that little songbird, take her for a ride to the top of the world..."

Race Talks

2010-09-22T09:52:00.012-05:00

"Which boy do you like?" Maya asked a friend as they watched a popular kid's television show.

"I like that one," the girl said, pointing to an African Amercian boy on the screen.

"Yeah, because he has the same color skin as you, huh?" Maya answered.

I listened from the kitchen, cringing just a little. Would our friend be offended by this?

Contrary to the popular thought that kids know no color, I think that they naturally notice differences between one another once they reach 6 or 7. They begin to categorize eachother, not always in a judgemental way- it's more like they're trying to figure out where they fit in. A way of trying to unravel the complexities of the social world.

I've tried to be open with my kids about differences. I tell them that people come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. I tell them that all people are equal, even if we look different or come from different places.

In school, Maya has been studying slavery and the period following it when black people were forced to remain seperate from whites. She finds this very strange and has been talking about it a lot lately.

Yesterday, as I prepared an afternoon snack for Maya and her friend, we started talking about a little boy who I babysit sometimes. Maya told her friend that this little boy (who also happens to be part African Amercian) calls her his girlfriend. Coincidentally, another little boy at school likes her who also happens to be black and she mentioned this too.

"Black people always like me," she said.

Ok, now I was cringing alot. I looked over at our young African American friend sitting at the table with us. She was silent.

Recovering quickly, I said, "Baby, the color of their skin has nothing to do with it. People like you because you are a nice person."

I guess the subject of skin color was on her mind now and combined with her studies at school, she must have felt compelled to talk about it.

"Did you know white people used to make black people their slaves?" Talk about uncomfortable.....

Our friend was again silent.

"Yes," I said choosing my words carefully. "But that was a very long time ago."

"Yeah," our friend said.

We are here, I thought. We are at the point where my daughter is beginning to understand that people are not always fair. That people are not always nice- that sometimes they can be down right cruel.

"And did you know that at one point women were not allowed to vote?" I asked. "Did you know that when the white people discovered America, there were Native Americans already living here and they were pushed off their land and killed so that the white people could live where they wanted to?"

Our friend nodded in agreement. I hoped that by sharing other injustices Maya would understand that there was nothing specific about African Amercians that made whites treat them so badly. That sometimes people who have power take advantage of those who don't. It's not right, but it has happened to many peoples in our history.

As uncomfortable as this discussion was for me, especially in the presence of our friend who is African American, I realized that remaining silent on the discussion would be a far greater injustice than some curious questions and comments from my eight year old daughter. Because, as with many things, if we do not make racism an open topic, kids just may come to their own conclusions or follow those of their peers.

The Leadership Conference says this about talking to our children about race and racism, "There is no escape from the racial conflicts with which children must cope...avoiding the problem isn't helpful. Too much parental protection from life's realities may hamper a child's later ability to cope with life as it is." We must take every opportunity to talk about these issues, to promote equality among all people if we ever expect it to happen.

And so while it felt a little like a loss of innocence for my daughter to now understand that people do bad things to eachother just because they are different from themselves-whether that be color of skin, body size, sexual orientation (yes, we've begun that discussion too), etc., sometimes people are afraid or feel threatened by that which is different- by that which they do not understand, and they treat others deplorably. It is sad and wrong, but it is a fact of life. For now anyway.

As we drove to school this morning, a song by the white rapper Eminem came on the radio. "Rap is usually sung by black people," Maya said.

Another opportunity, I thought.

"Remember," I said. "Anyone can do what they want with their lives. How you look, or who you are doesn't determine what you can or can't do in your life."

"I know," she said lightly.

So, while equality has come a long way since the days of slavery, in many ways we still have a long distance to travel. My little family and I take these baby steps together, day by day.

In the words of the great Maya Angelou (partly who my dear daughter was named after):

I say, clap hands and let's come together in this meeting ground,
I say, clap hands and let's deal with each other with love,
I say, clap hands and let us get from the low road of indifference,
Clap hands, let us come together and reveal our hearts,
Let us come together and revise our spirits,
Let us come together and cleanse our souls....

The ancestors remind us, despite the history of pain
We are a going-on people who will rise again.
And still we rise.

Out of a spirit of love and humanity, may we all rise.

Parenting by Instinct

2010-09-09T10:56:00.003-05:00

We’ve all done it- we critically eye the woman rushing through the grocery store with a screaming toddler in her cart. If only she would have disciplined that child more, if she had been stricter, kinder, paid more attention, paid less attention, yada yada yada.

Especially when we have children of our own, we know, we believe with every bit of our beings that our way is the way. And when it is we who are rushing through some public place, red face and flushed with embarrassment, we know that the eyes of judgment are on us.

I have read enough blogs to know that parenting is a common topic for discussion. Perhaps it is our fear; fear that we are not good enough, that we will make a mistake and scar our children for life. Perhaps it is our own insecurities about our parenting abilities that make us eye other parents with that critical stare.

Everyone has an answer. There are more parenting philosophies and techniques than anyone can likely count. Believe me, I have read just about all of them in my quest to be a good parent. But I can tell you one thing after spending unbelievable amounts of time at the computer, in the bookstore, and the library. I really don't believe in anything.

Ok, there are a few things I do and do not believe in- I do not believe in spanking my kids, I do believe in being kind and nurturing and giving them some freedom to discover their world and make mistakes. I believe this world is as much theirs as mine.

But if I could give back at least a few of those hours that I spent trying to be the parent that this expert or that expert thought I should be, I might have been able to spend more time just being with my kids.

A friend of mine once said that people read the parenting books that share the same philosophy about parenting as they do. That’s true, but what I didn’t realize at the time, was that all of parenting is subjective. If there was one technique that worked each and every time a child did something a parent disapproved of, the person who thought of it would be very rich. Because there is no set of circumstances, personality traits, context, and interplay between parent and child that are the same every time.

What it comes down to is that parents are at their best when they follow their instincts, not the mandates of some expert. Parents are the experts. Parents know their children better than anyone else. But as parents, you have to be willing to really see your child from an honest vantage point. And that often means taking a good look at yourself, not just parenting a certain way because you were raised that way. Or because you think everyone will think you’re nuts if you don’t. And I certainly don't think you can parent instinctively out of anger and closed mindedness.

I know some people will probably think I’m nuts. Maybe they already do. But as I tell my daughter just about every day, you can’t make everyone happy and you shouldn't try. Just do what you think is right.

It’s time to give the parenting expertise back to parents. Empower them to nurture their children. And know that within a spirit of nurturing, caring, and honesty, they may find the true answers they need when little Johnny screams his way through the grocery store. Because eventually he will, no matter what we do.

The First Days

2010-08-27T08:22:00.019-05:00

We walked down the hallway, the butterflies pounding their wings in my stomach.

"I'm not scared of anything," Ben declared. He was putting on his brave face. Maybe it was for me-maybe he could sense my nerves. Or maybe he was just trying to convince himself.

He walked to the door of the classroom and hesitated. He stood just inside, looking a little lost, as if he needed someone to give him direction. But his teacher was busy talking to me about his peanut allergy and I was busy explaining.

The teacher soon noticed him standing there, and pointed him toward his table and the crayons in their caddy waiting there. He walked over to them, the distraction of the task erasing the doubt.

The next day, as we walked up on the classroom, we noticed a new student had arrived-one that desperately did not want to leave her mother. She clung to her shirt and cried as if she would never see her again.

As the teacher was prying the little girl's hands from her mother, Benji seemed unnerved. He walked in and stared at the scene. He turned back to look at me, and with a helpless shrug of his shoulders walked back out. I could see his resolve not to cry melting away as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

I consoled him the best I could, feeling a bit ambivalent.  Wanting to acknowedge his feelings, but not wanting him to drown in the ocean of  his emotions. I wanted him to swim.

That night Ben said, "Mommy, I don't want to go to school. I want to stay with you."

The cracking of my breaking heart was audible. Taking a deep breath, I reminded him about how doing new things are always hard. "But they will get better," I said to myself as much as him. Knowing that my kids must face their own fears and challenges doesn't make it easier for me. Their pain is mine, and I remember all too well how hard growing up can be.

But the next day, he walked in without hesitation. He unzipped his backpack and got out his homework, proudly showing his teacher.   "See you later," I called, trying not to linger. Trying to trust he was ok.

That night Ben said, "I love school! It's so easy!"

I knew then that we had turned a corner. Maybe it would only be a temporary one- I know all too well that difficulty lurks in quiet places. But for now I knew I could stop holding my breath. That the bumps and bruises along the path to growing up are going to hurt, but in this moment we shared the triumph of having made it through the first days of school only slightly scraped.

Coloring Outside the Lines

2010-08-25T14:28:00.003-05:00

I'm not a big fan of coloring books. I think they encourage kids to color in the lines of a drawing they didn't make. (While they do help strengthen the small muscles in the hand, in terms of creativity they are pretty useless.) I'd rather let them make their own art than copy a model that someone else made.  And I encourage them to pick books and movies that they are interested in rather than picking these things out for them (within reason of course). Even though, sometimes those things are completely opposite from what I would choose.

For my kids, I think this philosophy has largely resulted in an innate desire to do things their own way. Maya spends most of her time drawing her own figures, along with their homes and accessories, and then cutting them out and playing with them like they were toys. Sometimes she creates creatures from clay-her own little collections of people made just the way she wants them.

She extends this do it yourself attitude to making games. Recently she made a paper DS that she played with all afternoon. In fact, most of the time she plays more with the things she makes more than anything she's gotten from a store.

While Ben doesn't yet create at that level, sometimes I hear him chattering in the back seat while we are driving. When I look behind me to see what he is doing, I see him pretending his hands are imaginary people carrying out a long conversation with one another.

I've always been impressed by my kids ability to pretend with little but their imaginations. But as they get older, sometimes I feel the pull to have them join the ranks of many kids and learn to play music or a sport.

So, when Maya started showing interest in dancing, I asked her if she wanted to go to a dance class.

"Nah", she said. "I already know how to dance."

When Ben started doing karate moves, I asked him if he'd like to take lessons.

"No," he said, "I just like doing this-hi ya!"

When they say things like that, my instinct is not to push them. And while I think it is great for kids to learn a sport or a skill that they are interested in and mature enough to commit to, I also think that they need plenty of time to create, imagine, and just be.

In our hyper fast world, it seems like we are creating a society where we have to be entertained all of the time. Where we have to be doing something all the time. Busy, busy, busy. We have forgotten how to embrace our free time.

As parents, many of us find a certain pride in what our kids do, especially if they do it well. And we want to make sure our kid's lives are enriched. But free time is enriching.  It allows children to discover and learn about the world in their own way. It allows children to imagine and create in their own way too. Those are things that they can't get in school, or by playing sports and other structured activities.

And so, I've decided to encourage them to just "be", while they can. Maybe one day they will ask to take lessons of some sort or play sports. Maybe not. It will be their decision either way.

Maya recently decided she wants a guitar. She doesn't want to take lessons, she wants to figure it out by herself.   And you know what? I'm going to let her. I'm going to get her a guitar and let her pluck away at the strings until she is tired of it. Maybe she will want to learn more. Maybe she won't.

Because in the end, I want to know that in a world that is constantly telling us what to do and how to do it, I let my kids color outside the lines.

Lines they drew themselves, of course.

Critters Against Cancer

2010-08-20T07:44:00.001-05:00

Calling all Children's Writers! My super awesome critique buddy and writer extraordinaire, Jenni Bielicki, is hosting an event called Critters Against Cancer, this Sunday. You can bid for a manuscript critique by one of the fantastic writers listed below, and help Jenni raise money in the fight against breast cancer.

Check out her blog Bee Historic for more info coming soon!

Critters Against Cancer
JOIN OUR KICK-OFF PARTY

Yes, that’s right, we’re Critters Against Cancer and

we’re kickin' off the crittin’ fun THIS SUNDAY, AUGUST 22nd!

New York Times best selling author, Stacia Deutsch is a Breast Cancer SURVIVOR and together with our team, we're walking 40 miles at the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer.

We have an amazing support team of authors and illustrators working with us to raise funds that will help FIGHT BACK!

CONFIRMED CRITTERS and AUTOGRAPH PARTY ATTENDEES include...

Stacia Deutsch (MG novel critique of first three chapters)

Kelly DiPucchio (PB critique)

Marlene Perez (Two signed books, including her newest release, DEAD IS JUST A RUMOR)

Tammi Sauer (PB critique AND a signed copy of her upcoming released, MOSTLY MONSTERLY)

Kim Norman (PB critique)

Lori Polydoros (PB critique AND MG/YA novel critique of first three chapters)

Brenda Sturgis (PB critique)

Diana Murray (PB critique)

Jenni Bielicki (PB critique)

Becky Levine (YA critique of first three chapters)

Dan Santat (PB critique)

Lisa Wheeler (autographed books)

The Power of Purpose

2010-08-03T20:53:00.003-05:00

I watched a story on the Oprah show today, about a boy named Aaron who was struggling with grief after losing his twin brother to brain cancer. He was so distraught after his brother's death that one day he told his mom, "I don't want to be here anymore."

His mother made a tearful call to their pediatrician who agreed to see the boy right away. When he came into the examination room, the doctor could see how much pain Aaron was in. She asked him, "Tell me one thing you like to do."

Aaron told her, "I like to cook."

The doctor said, "I want you to go home and bake cookies for your brother. Here is $20. I'm your first investor and I want you to come back with a business plan for me."

When Aaron walked out the door that day, he was smiling for the first time in months. He went home and baked. The next week he went back to his doctor with a plate of cookies and his business plan. And he hasn't stopped baking ever since.

Aaron named his business "DoughJangles" and sells to family, friends, and his dad's co-workers. He pays his older brother to help him, and he donates the profits to the charities that helped his brother when he was sick. Sometimes he just gives the cookies away because it makes people happy. He said, "I think my brother would be proud of me. I'd think he'd be happy I didn't just give up."

After Aaron's story, he and his family sat on Oprah's stage. She asked him, "So who is your favorite cook?"

Aaron replied, "Paula Dean." And a moment later, Paula Dean was walking onto the stage with a plate of cookies in her hand,amidst thunderous applause. Aaron's face was so genuinely surprised and joyful, that he didn't need to say a thing.

Then Paula Dean told a story about how cooking saved her life too. She said she lost her parents when she was young and in her grief she turned to her kitchen as therapy. "I would get in my kitchen, Aaron," she said, "and I would cook so that I wouldn't think about anything else but what was going on in my pots or my oven."

When it comes down to it, it's really about finding a purpose. Purpose takes the focus off of our own pain, and lets the positive in us reach out and into the world. And in some small way, that heals us.

We shouldn't underestimate the power of purpose, not only for those with tragic pain like Aaron's, but for the kind of pain every one of us is carrying around- whatever that may be. Because we all have pain.

What is your purpose?

Breaking the Rules

2010-07-19T09:08:00.002-05:00

Rules are important. They keep us safe and instill order. They make it easier to communicate with other people.

But sometimes rules can be stifling. Sometimes they can smother creativity and the making of art.

In the world of children's writing, authors often break rules. We break rules about reality, making animals talk and putting children in charge. We play with magic and create new worlds. Because that's what a child's imagination is all about.

And yet, when it comes to writing, it seems like imagination in the way write is often discouraged. We are told to be succinct- to keep our word count low. We are told to follow the rules of grammar. Yet in her series called, How to Write A Children's Picture Book, Eve Heidi Bine-Stock discusses in depth the techniques of many classic children's authors that I think challenge these notions.

One techinique is the use of repetion of certain words. In the famous book Courduroy, the word and is repeated several times, "..and there, before his eyes, was a most amazing sight-tables and chairs and lamps and sofas and rows and rows of beds." Quite a far cry from the mandate of writing experts to use as few words as possible isn't it? But by repeating this word, we not only get the sense of how a child would think, we also get a greater sense of just how many things there were in the room.

In Caps for Sale, Esphyr Slobodkina has the cap peddler call out, "Caps! Caps for sale! Fifty cents a cap!" The repetition captures the way a street peddler would call out. Simply saying, "Caps for sale!" doesn't quite do it, does it?

William Steig uses the addition of superfluous words in Sylvester and the Magic Pebble, "The lion came bounding over, sniffed the rock a hundred times, walked around it, and went away confused, perplexed, puzzled, and bewildered." Now, any one of these words would have sufficed, but by using them all, we get an exaggerated feel-one that truly brings home just how confused the lion was.

And in Where the Wild Things Are, Maurice Sendak breaks a grammar rule by using "incorrect" prepositions, telling us that Max, "...sailed through night and day" (one can sail through water, but not a day). But using language in this way, Bine-Stock tells us, ..."heightens Max's imaginative journey."

In fact, Bine-Stock gives example after example of well known children's authors using the repetition of words, changing word order, adding or omitting words, using commas to pace a sentence, and breaking grammar rules to make an impact. It gives an artful emphasis and feeling to the words.

The examples I've given are only a tiny fraction of those in the book. If you are a children's writer- take a look at Bine-Stock's work. It is a fascinating dissection of many of our beloved classics-one that will surely be eye-opening.

And while I haven't quite figured out how to strike that balance of artfully breaking the rules in my writing, I haven't stopped trying. After all, I've never been a strict rule follower-I like thinking about things in novel ways. Maybe that's why I enjoy writing for children so much.

So don't go running any stop signs, but next time you sit down to write, think about those rules and what effect you might create by breaking one.

*How to Write a Children's Picture Book

Volumes 1, 2, and 3

by Eve Heidi Binestock

The Apology

2010-07-06T17:27:00.003-05:00

Maya lay sulking on the floor after a slight disagreement with her best friend. She chose that exact moment to ask me something I am quite sure she knew the answer to. As if looking for an impetus to a melt down. I had a flash back to those days when this was common in our house- she looking for reasons to tantrum, to let loose, blow off the steam of so many overwhelming emotions.

"Can I have a piece of coffee cake?" she said, frowning.

"No," I said, "you didn't eat your lunch."

"Uhhh! Everyone tells me no!" she yelled and stormed upstairs, leaving her friend with the mess of their bingo game on the floor.

A few minutes later, I went up to her room. "Please help Faith clean up the mess you two made."

"Just leave me alone!" she yelled, face down on her bed, kicking her feet like a two year old.

With a brief finger wag about not being rude to me, I did just that. Left her alone. Because I know this drill too well. The time for rational talk must come when she is rational. Any attempt to talk before this and I find that one irrational, screaming child, becomes two.
A little while later, I went up again to see if the storm had passed. I found her listening to music in her room. She had put lipstick on and streaked her hair red (with a marker, no doubt). Oh my god, she's become a teenager!

"Would you like something else for lunch?" I asked calmly, trying not to stare at this girl who suddenly did not resemble my daughter at all.

"No thanks," she said, pushing brusquely past me.

But later as I sat outside watching Ben swim, she came outside. Her face had softened and her eyes looked glassy with tears. "Mommy, I'm sorry for yelling at you," she said hugging me.

And I smiled past the make-up and hair, thinking that maybe, just maybe all those times I have apologized to her for losing my temper, for blowing off the steam of so many emotions, for sometimes not resembling her mother at all- have paid off.

For now anyway.

Lizard Life

2010-05-17T14:17:00.004-05:00

There is a lizard family that lives in the jasmine bush just outside my kitchen window. The bright green and sometimes brown pair sit on the bricks in the shade of the afternoon. The male lizard pumps his throat up with air, making an orange ballon at his neck. The female bobs her head in reply. Talking. Then they dart back into the sweet, delicate flowers. Gone.

It is the female who I see regularly, like a friend who comes to call. Every afternoon, she lies on the warm bricks, bobbing her head as a fly passes unknowingly by. Once, she snapped one up, crunching and chomping until it was gone. Dinner. Such entertainment for my weary dishwashing! The notion that she could be very helpful in the house crosses my mind.

One day, I spied the pair behind a creeping jasmine vine. As I pulled the vine away, the male gave me a sideways glance. An intimate moment. I await the arrival of a tiny addition.

A good mate.
Some conversation.
A hearty meal.

This lizard life is not the same as mine-but not so different either.

How Far Is Australia?

2010-04-21T07:45:00.000-05:00

"How far is Australia?" Ben asks.

"Very far," I say. "Halfway around the world."

"Is it farther than Austin?" he asks.

"Yes, much further."

How to explain the distance? Miles? Hours? Days? Minutes?

"It's even farther than Granny Boo and Grandpa's house in Arizona." I try.

"Is it 1000 minutes?" Of course, minutes are what he knows. Five more minutes. 10 more minutes. 60 minutes in an hour.

"Yes and more." I tell him.

And for a moment the vastness of the world lays before us. Do I give him the knowledge that he is really very small in the whole scheme of it?

In the end, I decide to give him the world. "The world is very large," I tell him. You can't even drive to Australia- you have to fly on an airplane."

"Wow," he says.

To know that there is so much more than what lies beyond your doorstep must be mindblowing at 4 years old. At any age. It is indeed, wow.

Letting Them Fall

2010-04-18T17:35:00.001-05:00

One of the most difficult things to do as a parent (for me at least), is to know when to let go and when to hold on. Strangely enough, under the circling lights of a roller rink, I came ever so closer to figuring this out.

As a kid, I roller skated all the time. And so when I laced up those skates at Maya's friend's birthday party, it felt familiar. But my kids have never been roller skating nor laced up a pair of skates. And as one might expect, it wasn't easy.

As Maya wobbled out on the slick rink, I was ready to help. "We'll do it together," I said. "I'll help you." But when I tried to hold her hand- she wobbled more. When I tried to skate next to her- she skated into my feet.

"Let me go mom, I got this," she said as she precariously inched forward.

"Hold onto the wall," I instructed. But she didn't want to hold onto the wall.

I took a lap around the rink and came back to skate just a bit ahead of her. She fell. And fell again. And again. But you know what? She kept on getting up. Depsite not having my help.

My stomach churned and my jaw clenched while I watched her. But after about an hour she was singing along to the music and not falling nearly as much. Pretty soon she was cruising along just fine on her own. Sweaty and bruised, but happy.

And so I realized that even though our kids need our guidance, sometimes we have to let them fall. Because sometimes, our help isn't help at all. Sometimes it's hindrance.

Impatiently Learning To Be Patient

2010-04-16T15:34:00.002-05:00

If there is one thing that writing keeps bringing back to me, over and over, it would be patience. Of which, I have none. Despite my best efforts to become the best children's writer in the shortest amount of time, (grandiose, I know) it just isn't happening. Why? Because it takes time. Not only time, but a slow concentrated effort spread out over many months, perhaps even years.

I know this. Really, I do. It's just that I keep forgetting. I keep letting my ego get in the way of the best writing I can do. So, like and alcoholic that has to recommit to a sober life daily, I am once again recomitting myself to slowing down. To letting go of the desire for the end product and enjoying the process. Even if that means , writing less.

Now, if only I could figure how to patiently learn to be patient.

A Simple Reminder

2010-04-06T08:18:00.001-05:00

It was a balmy Saturday night and I was sitting on the couch. I heard the click of the back door as it opened and I looked up to see a hand thrust in the doorway holding a big, fat, toad.

"He's so cuuuuuute!" the kids squealed. AJ put the toad's plump body down on the ground and the kids shrieked as he hopped across the deck. Ben promptly began his best frog jump. Thunk, thunk, thunk, went his bare feet on the wooden planks.

Toadie plopped into the doorway and I spotted a fat june bug flitting around the porch light. "Let's see if he'll eat that bug," I said, snatching up the beetle with my hand. I laid the fat little creature in front of Toadie. We grew silent. And then just as the june bug began its characteristic flit flit toward the light, a blur sprang out from Toadie's mouth and slurp! The june bug was gone.

"Yay!" we shouted in unison. We high fived eachother, laughing with surprise. No one had entirely expected Toadie to perform on cue, especially a human one. But he did. Maybe he was grateful for such an easy dinner, undaunted by the eager eyes watching him. Most likely he was just doing what he does, eat.

Wild creatures are so zen. They do what they do because that's what they do. There is no, "Should I do this right now? Is anyone looking at me? What will I do next?" No, it's just, "A bug, I eat." I appreciate the unburdened mind, the simplicity of just being.

As he hopped off into the lettuce patch, we bid him farewell. "Keep the bugs out our garden!" I called. And I knew that when he sees a bug, he will eat it.

Simple.

Sometimes we humans seem only to appreciate the complexity of the modern world. With our blackberries and laptops, it's easy to forget to slow down. Unclutter. Unscramble. Remember the beauty of simply being.

Thanks for that reminder Toadie.

The Ebb and Flow of Inspiration

2010-03-19T14:52:00.001-05:00

For me, it's more like tsunami and drought. I seem to get slammed by ideas, hardly able to keep up with the stories I want to write, let alone re-work the drafts I get down on paper, and then slurp- all that beautiful water- gone. Like a bi polar disorder for writers. I really need to find more balance in my writing.

I've always shunned a schedule for my writing. With two or more kids around at all times, my time is never predictable. I write when I can, sneaking in a few minutes here and there when the kids are well occupied. But as my kids and my writing matures, I think some dedicated writing time would help me balance it all instead of always being at the mercy of the tides. Maybe control the tides a little better?

How do you writing mamas and papas do it? I'd love to hear some fresh ideas. 'Cause this mama is heading for drought again.

Snow Watching

2010-02-23T17:25:00.001-06:00

"Mama, mama! Come look!" Maya cried as she burst through the door into Ben's darkened room. "It's snowing! It's coming down harder and harder!"

I might have been irritated, I might have been annoyed. After all, I had been trying to get a sick Ben to take a nap. But snow, in Central Texas! This was something special and I didn't want to miss it.

We popped out of bed and followed Maya down the hall. "Here! In here!" I called, leading the kids into the upstairs guest bedroom. Pulling back the shade on the tall window, our excited chattering turned into hushed awe. Big fat flakes drifted down, catching the wind and floating haphazardly to the ground. It was such a peaceful sight, so rare. We could have stood there with our noses pressed against the cold glass for hours.

Watching the snow, I was reminded of the time AJ and I woke at 3 am to watch a meteor shower. We stood on the deck of our country home, our necks craned as flashes of light dashed through the sky. We watched until we could barely straighten our necks, not wanting to leave it. Not wanting to end this surreal connection with nature.

And so it was today. While many parts of the world get more snow than they want, for us this was like watching those meteors. A reminder to not forget the world beyond our doors, our computer screens, the daily grind of doing.

Later, Maya would dash out into the backyard, snatching bits of snow and gobbling them up. "It's so good!" she said, sharing her clump of ice with Ben. Even the cat went out to try some, lapping the snow off the slide, unpreturbed by the cold.

This was one day I didn't complain about the long cold winter. The beauty of snow watching warmed me enough.

Pack Mentality

2010-02-19T18:59:00.000-06:00

This is our home almost every morning. We're a pack gathered around the fire, er space heater. We may have modern conveniences but the pack mentality is still strong.

Coming Out of the Closet

2010-02-04T16:02:00.001-06:00

I bet that title got you wondering didn't it? Well, I am not talking about that kind of closet. I'm talking about the writing closet.

For years I kept my writing life to myself. I found it too cumbersome, to say, "Well, I want to be a writer, er I'm trying to be a writer, uh, I'm working on becoming a writer. Or too laden with qualifications: maybe, one day, might, kind of, but. So I kept it mostly to myself, not daring to say it although it was always there. Lurking below the surface. Wanting to get out. Like a part of me I wasn't being honest about. Something I kept hidden.

But it wasn't just in public that I denied my writing heart. It was in private too. By not giving my writing my all, by not doing the hard work I wasn't even being honest with myself. I wanted it, but it was like I never really wanted to try because I was afraid to fail. Afraid, I would look bad. Afraid, if I failed it would mean I wasn't destined to be a writer the way I always dreamed I was.

However, my do or die moment came to me one day: I either had to give it my all, or stop wanting it entirely. Well you can guess what I decided.

And you know what I figured out? That failing publicly made me more of a writer than me nursing the desire to write privately.

So now when I meet someone new I say, I'm a writer. When I see someone I haven't seen in awhile and they ask me what I'm up to, I think to myself, did I come out of the closet with this person? Did I admit I'm a writer? And if I hadn't, then I do.

I'd like to think I have a little more understanding about how a gay person must feel. To think they must deny a part of their lives, a part of their hearts to the world. I know, it's not on the same scale but hopefully you get my comparison. I'm a writer and I live with not only the scrutiny of my failures, but the scrutiny of my success. After all, not everyone will like what I write. But at least I am being true to myself.

And that's the most I can hope for in my life. It's also one of my biggest hopes for my children. That they live a life of being true to themselves.

Self truth: bring it out of the closet.

The Pain and The Great One

2010-02-03T10:57:00.001-06:00

Maya came home from school a few weeks ago, all a buzz about a book they read in class called, The Pain and the Great One. "Can you get it from the library mama?" she asked.

"Sure, we'll look for it," I said.

So Ben and I tromped into the school library early one morning and asked the librarian about it. She didn't know who had written it, so she looked it up. "It's by Judy Blume," she told us.

"Wow," I said, surprised. I have known Judy Blume books since I was a kid. I was expecting something a little more modern. But when we went to the B section, it wasn't there. And it wasn't there the next week. Or the next. Or even the week after that.

Finally, just yesterday, Ben and I found it. We heaped The Pain and The Great One, written in 1974, on the top of our toppling stack of books- all written in the 2000's.

When Maya got home she jumped up and down with excitement. Just minutes through the door and we were huddled together on the floor, reading. It's a story told in two parts: the first from the point of view of the older sister who is talking about her younger brother, The Pain. The Pain is a pain because he annoys her and their parents love him and think he is the best thing that ever happened to them. The second part is told from the point of view of the Pain, who talks about how annoying his sister, the Great One is, and how everyone thinks she is so smart just because she is older.

In 32 pages I had the most profound answer to my kids sibling rivalry. Understanding. I think Maya identifies so much with this book not just because it is uncannily like her own life (at least from her point of view). But Judy Blume offers no answers, no real solutions for these two. It's a statement about perspective and the need to be understood.

"Is that what it feels like to be a big sister?" I ask Maya when we're through reading.

"Yeah," she says. "Kind of."

Little brothers and sisters are pains. If only because they take up some of the attention from the most important people in a child's life, their parents. But life is built on learning to deal with these little pains, they build character. That sounds like such a parental thing to say, doesn't it? Shh, don't tell my kids.

I learned something else very valuable about writing for children too. The best stories are timeless ones. I can only hope that I will one day write a story that some child will enjoy 20 years from now. And offer such wisdom for their parents too.

Where Oh Where Are My Endings?

2010-01-31T09:52:00.000-06:00

Over the last week or so, I've had three great picture book ideas. Fueled by adrenaline, I sit down at my computer to write my synopsis, typing madly. I'm even ignoring my typos. But then, like the brakes on a car, I come screeching to a halt. How does my character overcome his problem? What should he do?

I'm stuck.

So now I have three brilliant starts with no endings. I've given myself time, letting the stories will simmer and stew for awhile, hoping the endings will bubble up to the surface soon. Nothing has surfaced so far.

I'm getting impatient. Where oh where are my endings?
Can anybody help me find them?

To be continued.....

Books, Brains, and Blood Cells

2010-01-21T15:35:00.008-06:00

Whenever it's really cold (or really hot for that matter- we are in Texas you know) I always worry that the kids are watching too much television, being idle too long. So we visit the library a couple of times a week, stocking up on plenty of books. And we don't just get fiction-even though we all love a good story. We get a hearty supply of non-fiction- science books, books about the body, magic tricks, origami. Anything that looks interesting really (interesting to me at least-let's face it, I do most of the picking).

Most of the time, I think that the kids' interest in these books are fleeting and I wonder if they will even remember anything about them later on. But at least it makes me feel like we are doing something productive.

So, on one of the warmest evenings we've had in weeks, the kids have a friend over and they're playing outside.

"Rawwwrrr!" Ben growls, holding his hands like claws.

"Get him!" Maya yells.

They don their best fighting faces and chase after Ben.

"Get to the lungs," her friend says.

"I'm going to the brain!" Maya declares.

She climbs to the tip top of the monkey bars and sits with her legs outstretched. Her face is triumphant up there, too high for even adults to go. Smart. She is in the brain after all.

"What are you playing?" I ask.

"We're playing a game where Ben is the bacteria and the swing set is different parts of the body- the swing is the heart, the rings are the lungs, the deck is the stomach, and the top of the monkey bars are the brain.

Maya smiles proudly. "We're the blood cells," she says. "We are trying to attack Ben."

"Cause I'm the bacteria!" Ben chimes in, smiling his toothy evil grin and growling fiercely. He so enjoys being the bad guy.

I guess those body books we checked out have had more of an impact than I thought.

Now, if only I could get them that interested in books about getting along with your brother or sister.

Kid Quotes

2010-01-16T09:15:00.003-06:00

Mama, you're not a perfect mom

You're a just right mom.

~Maya, age 7

It Was A 3 Pet and 1 Kid Night

2010-01-10T08:40:00.002-06:00

Do you remember that band Three Dog Night? My dad, the king of trivia, recently told me that the saying "three dog night" came from the old settlers, who on very cold nights would snuggle up with their dogs to keep warm. The amount of dogs you needed to keep warm was a measure of just how cold it was, and three dogs was considered to be pretty darn chilly.

Central Texas has been in the grip of a cold snap for the past few days. Temperatures have dropped to the the teens. Okay, so most of you that don't live in the south may think me a bit whiny, considering that ice and snow covers most of the ground anywhere north of here, but come on, we're used to 80 in November. For us, 18 is pretty traumatic, let me tell you. Chapped lips, cracked hands, the need for 5 extra minutes to put those extra layers of clothes on, and incessant crying about the "stupid cold" burning unprotected faces. How do you snow dwellers do it?

It was so cold on Friday night that it was a three pet, one kid night. Cold. I woke to find our two cats, the dog, and Ben in our bed (shh, don't tell Maya, she would feel so left out that she didn't wake up to join the party) and myself precariously close to falling out of bed. Despite our central heating and good thick blankets, something about the cold brings out that cuddling instinct, that need to snuggle up next to another warm body. Maybe it's that deep instinctual need to survive.

Or maybe it's just a good excuse to cuddle.

My First Children's Story Published!

2010-01-05T10:17:00.006-06:00

I am beyond excited to see my first story published over at Stories for Children Magazine! This was one of the first children's stories I wrote and it's based on my little girl, Maya. If you'd like to read it, just click on Mr. Stanley Bookman to the right, click the In This Issue link, and scroll down until you see "New Socks for Maya".

While I have had a few non fiction articles published in other small magazines, I see this story's publication as a real milestone in my writing career. Children's fiction is fiercely competitive-especially picture books. Editors see thousands of manuscripts and their choice is not only based on stellar writing, but the right idea at the right time for the right publisher. Magnify that by 5 in the economic slump and you have a recipe for lots of rejections. Add those to the fact that writing children's short fiction may look easy when you read it, but imagine building your character, an interesting plot, in a story that children will relate to, in language that children will understand, all in less than a thousand words and you'll see that is in actuality one of the most challenging genres to write in. It's a difficult endeavor and not one for the easily frustrated.

So why do it? It's simple. The same reason anyone creates art, because they love it. And I love writing children's stories.

That and I am obsessively persistent and hopelessly hopeful. A little crazy? Maybe. But if I can win more publications like this one in Stories for Children, I will have something to base my hope on, something to temper my insanity. More importantly perhaps, I'll have something to lift me up and keep me reaching. Because when those rejections start piling up you either hit the wall and turn around and walk away or you find a way to scale it.

I'm working on the latter.

New Writer's Critique Resource

2010-01-04T08:26:00.000-06:00

My awesome blogging friend Kristi Faith, the author of R.A.W. Random Acts of Writing, has just started on a new blog site where writers can request a critique group, partner, or just post a piece for a single critique. If you are a writer who needs some eyes to look over your work, you really should check this out. Or maybe you are like me, who will take any and all eyes that will look at my work! Go to Critter Corner. See ya there!

On the Eve of the New Year

2009-12-31T09:00:00.000-06:00

It seems like just a couple of years ago, when AJ and I sat in our living room, tipping back a celebratory drink with our best friends in the world, eagerly awaiting the year 2000. It seemed so futuristic, so modern. So unsure. And yet it passed uneventfully, despite the fear of Y2K and utter chaos. But I know now that chaos doesn't have to be big. Chaos can also be the passing of years without direction.

Here we are on the eve of 2010, another decade has passed so quickly it seems impossible. I have a 7 year old now? My baby is four, starting school next year? It all seems like it is going by so fast, I wish I could turn a dial and slow it down.

Life may be going by quickly but I haven't surrendered it to chaos. After my tumultuous teen years and unsure twenties, I started making decisions, choices about my life and the direction it was taking. I didn't want to throw it all to chance anymore. So, 10 years ago when I read a book about making your intentions a reality, I knew I had come upon the idea I was looking for. After really thinking about it, I made a list of all the things I wanted in my life-not necessarily in the next year, but as an eventual goal. I didn't know how I would do these things, I just knew that I wanted them more than anything. That list was lost long ago, but I do remember two things that I put on it:

I want to be a stay at home mom.
I want to be a writer.

Last year those things finally became a reality for me (I still have a ways to go on the writing I know, but with 5 small publications and alot of hours at the old laptop, I think I have earned that title) and I'm so grateful. But I know it wasn't magic or luck that got me those things. I got those things from hard work and pure desire. And of course, an ever supportive husband and family.

So what will my list of intentions be for the next 10 years? To hold one of my stories in my hands as an illustrated book. To make a decent living from my writing. To write a novel. To be a great parent to my kiddos who will be approaching the tween and teen years, likely bringing many new challenges for me. To still have the wonderful relationship AJ and I have today.

What about you? What are yor intentions for the new year? For the decade?

Whatever they might be, write them down. Tuck that list away somewhere, where you can look at it now and then and think about the things you want. Make them a concious decision and you'll find a way to make them a reality. I'm sure of it.

New Regular Feature: Quotes by Ben

2009-12-30T14:51:00.002-06:00

My four year old Ben is constantly saying the most hilarious and random things that I thought I'd make his quotes a regular feature. Being an extrovert, he just never stops talking. I hope these Benisms will give you as much entertainment as they give me. Here is this week's quote:

"That dirty show breaks my heart."

~about the television show Hoarders

Don't Go

2009-12-27T17:44:00.001-06:00

The frenzied days of the holiday are over. After the days of excited preparation and gift buying, I am left with a sort of sadness to see it all over with, to see all of our family members come and go. And I'm not the only one.

The kids see AJ's parents fairly often, but we usually only see my parents once a year. This year, they braved the weather gamble and made the two day drive out to our house in Texas all the way from Arizona. We had both sets of grandparents, an aunt, and a cousin all here together for Christmas. We were only lacking one uncle. It was perhaps the greatest Christmas gift to have the people we love most all within the same decorated walls.

This morning, it was time for my parents to drive home. Maya hugged her grandparents and told them goodbye. Ben on the other hand was lying on the floor.

"Ben, tell your grandparents goodbye," I said.

He shut his eyes.

"Ben, why won't you say goodbye?"

"I can't say the words because I don't want them to go."

Sometimes goodbye is the hardest word of all to say.

If Ignorance is Bliss, Then Knowledge is Power

2009-12-13T08:19:00.000-06:00

But that doesn't mean that knowledge isn't a little hard to swallow. Recently I got a strong dose of that knowledge from an agent I submitted a story to. She didn't like it. At all. Ouch.

But she, unlike 99% of other agents and publishers, actually took the time to write me a fairly lengthy e-mail about what she thought was wrong with it. And while this judgement totally floored me, it was a different point of view than any I'd heard before, including from my own critique group. And as a writer friend said, "When you don't know what is wrong, you can't fix it. Now you know." Yes, now I know. I'm just not sure how to fix it.

And so I am forced to do something I rarely do. Slow down. Stop even. Put this particluar (and maybe some others) down for awhile and just let it sit. Whittle away at it until it is absolutley perfect. And when I think it is perfect, I'll put it away again.

Ignorance and bliss are now obliterated. I'm patiently awaiting the powerful part.

Too Many Words

2009-12-12T17:10:00.000-06:00

"Mommy?"

"Yes Ben?"

"Whenever you and daddy say lots of words to me, they go up to my brain and I get all confused and stuff. So don't tell me lots of words. Just tell me a few words. Ok?"

"Hmmm. How many words do you think?"

"Like 170 words. That would be good."

The Potty Mouth Conundrum

2009-12-12T10:29:00.001-06:00

We have a problem at our house. It's............potty mouth. Yes my wonderfully smart and talented angelic children love to say the word poop. Yes, they love to say and make jokes about the word that brings giggles and snickers from just about every kid on the planet. But I've had it with the potty humor and I'm ready to clean it up.

I have found the perfect solution. You see, recently we introduced an allowance. And you should see my kiddos racing around the house to do their chores. Gleefully checking off the boxes on their new chore charts. It's amazing, really. So to combat the potty mouth problem, we introduced the potty mouth jar. If you say the word poop, in any context other than the strictly clinical one, you must pay a fine. Ten cents per utterance.

The jar is filling up fast.

So recently we were at a birthday party. As we were all eating birthday cake, Ben starts telling his friend about the new rule in our house. He says, "Hey Emma, you know what? You can't say......" He paused here, because he was afraid to say the word. After all, he'd given enough money already. So in a split second decision, he substituted another word for the unmentionable one. He said, "You can't say diarrhea in our house or else you have to pay 10 cents. So don't say diarrhea at our house."

And I thought our potty mouth solution was going so well. At least they're not saying poop anymore.

The Holiday Portrait

2009-12-05T16:53:00.002-06:00

I don't know what it's like for everyone else, but in our family, taking the annual holiday photo is a task that should be fun in theory, but is somehow anything but.

"I don't want to wear a nice shirt!" Ben says. These days, we're lucky to get a shirt on him at all.

"Do we have to wear shoes?" Maya whines. Her shoes come off the very second she enters the house.

Finally, we decide to choose our battles and settle for a picture that won't show anyone's feet and that has Ben wearing a decent shirt. The camera is set up with a 10 second delay. I remind myself not to blink. The thought of not blinking makes me want to blink.

Click. Blurry faces.

"Ok, everyone be still!" I say.

Click. Ben is making bug eyes.

"Ok, Everyone put on your best smile!" I try again.

Click. Maya is frowning.

"Maya, you need to smile." I say.

"I am smiling!" Maya yells with arms crossed and back slouched.

I try reasoning with her. "Even if you're smiling, if your arms are crossed and your back is slouched, you still look mad." My words are lost in her irritation.

I don my best happy voice. "Ok stand up straight, smile, be still!" Whew. This is hard work. What seems like a thousand more clicks later and.....it's done! The holiday photo. See our holiday spirit?

Actually, when I look at it now, it almost looks like we were really enjoying ourselves.

Back to It

2009-12-04T17:19:00.002-06:00

For the most part I am a pretty dedicated person. Not only am I dedicated to writing, but to my kids, my husband, my house. I work hard from 6 am until whenever it is I go to sleep to make sure my family has home cooked meals, homework is done, baths are taken, etc. I'd say I am pretty much in constant motion.

But for the last few days I have been sick. And usually when I get sick, my dedication becomes deadbeat and I just let it all go. The dishes pile up in the sink. The blogs go unwritten. Critiques undone. Stories grow cold while hot pizza is ordered. Dearest husband who works two jobs to make it all work is forced to pick up my ever lengthening slack.

I guess not feeling well is what prompts me to take a break, a mental and physcial letting go of many of the things I concern myself with daily (at least the housework concerns, never the kiddos). Seems like a good enough excuse, and really the only legitimate one I can think of. But after a couple of days, I miss my busyness and healthy or not I feel compelled to get back to it.

And so, we now join our regularly scheduled program.....

So Much to be Thankful For

2009-11-28T08:42:00.000-06:00

It may be a bit cliche to talk about the many things I am thankful for this Thanksgiving. But, I am one who truly believes in the importance of being thankful each and every day. Each night before I go off to the land of dreams, I count all of the things I am grateful for. Of course one of the things I am most thankful for is my children. I simply cannot imagine my life without them. Although most people regard raising children as sacrifice and hard work, I can honestly say that my kids have brought nothing but enrichment, personal growth, and the greatest expansion of my heart.

And so it is with deep sadness that I think of all the children born in this world without more than the briefest of thoughts. And perhaps it is a greater tragedy that there are people in this world who desperately want children- who would provide incredible love and awesome parenting, and yet cannot have them. Just like this beautful couple here:

If any of my few and faithful blog readers knows of a way to help this couple, click on the picture and contact them- and help give them the thing they want most to be thankful for.

One Small Step Toward The Dream

2009-11-20T18:49:00.002-06:00

I received an e-mail today from a magazine called Stories For Children, telling me that they have accepted one of my children's stories for publication. And while it is a non-paying gig, and the magazine small, it is a reputable one, and constitutes one little step toward my dream of being a bonafide children's book author. I couldn't be happier. Well okay, I might be a teeny bit happier with a book deal, but you know what I mean.

And hey, now I have something to put in my cover letters!

A Glimpse of The Future

2009-11-20T17:32:00.000-06:00

Last Friday night, I had a glimpse of the future. Or one possibility for it, anyway. It was movie night at Maya's elementary school and we brought along a family friend who happens to be a fifth grader.

"We're going to sit with friends, right Maya? It's ok if we don't sit with you, right Erin?"

"Uh, sure," I said with a stab of Oh my god, she's growing up.

The girls settled a bit away from me, armed with money for snacks. I heard their laughter and saw their eyes making quick glances around the room. Whose here, who can see me?

The older girl popped up to buy some snacks, popcorn, pickles, nachos-good movie fair. Then I watched as she glanced at a boy behind her and saw the subtle flip of her hair, the slight change in her stance. Is he looking at me? Her body language seemed to say.

And so I had a moment. A moment of what it might be like in a couple of years, and for just a second I had to quell the panic in my stomach. But this glimpse of the future was good- it will help me prepare for the inevitable. And while Maya is just barely able to talk to boys, (seriously, she couldn't stand to be anywhere near them for years) one day I know she will look at them in a whole new light. Just like her friend is beginning to.

I am bracing myself. Already. I need as many years of preparation as I can get.

What do cats and kids have in common?

2009-11-13T17:52:00.001-06:00

The love of a good cardboard box.

This box has been a fixture in our living room for over a week now. Inside it are pictographs- the scrawlings of a seven year old's imagination. It has been a space ship, a bird's nest, and a cozy home. It has been filled with blankets and pillows. It has been turned upside down and every which way. It is, besides pumpkins of course, one of the funnest toys imaginable. And maybe that's why, because it's all about the imagination. I am convinced that kids would really rather make up their own scenes than have them supplied for them. And isn't that just what most toys are, almost perfect replicas of things from the adult world? Made to look strikingly like the real thing? Nothing left to the imagination. I would bet that if we didn't give our children any toys at all, they would be perfectly happy within their own minds. Or maybe perfectly happy with just a stack of cardboard boxes in varying sizes. If they can wrestle them away from the cat that is.

Camping with Kids

2009-11-08T18:48:00.001-06:00

Ahh, the trees, the fresh air, the cool starry nights. The cah cah of the crows at dawn, the mosquitoes sucking on your face after you've spayed bug spray on the rest of your body. There are things about camping that I love, and things that I hate. I guess hate is a strong word, but things that I dislike. Strongly. But I can't think of a better way than camping to teach girls (all kids really) in this day of plug it in and go, the feel of the earth and sky. And what it feels like to have to walk a half mile to a toilet, or well, you know the alternative. There's no instant gratification in camping after all.

This trip? One night, four moms and four seven year old girls. And while we moms (well, some of us) did our share of complaining about hiking our stuff to the site (what do you mean we can't just park in front of our tent pad?), the girls were nothing but agreeable. Wash dishes? Okay! Cook dinner? Okay! Not one complaint. If only it could be that way at home....Just sheer joy and pine needles underneath the tallest trees in Texas.

And my word of advice should you choose to camp with kids in the near future? Get a head light. Quite possibly the funnest and most useful thing for a camping trip ever. Oh, and a little ibuprofen doesn't hurt either.

Kids and TV

2009-11-05T18:12:00.002-06:00

You know what I hate most about kids TV? No, it's not the annoying songs that you end up singing all day long. No, it's not the annoying character whose voice grates on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard (you can probably guess who I'm talking about- I won't spell it out since it might constitute some kind of blasphemy, but her name starts with a "D"). No, it's not the characters that make you give the "good manners" speech after every episode.

No, it's none of those things. It's the commercials, with their even more annoying jingles, and their mesmerizing ability to turn kids into "I want" robots. As in, "I want that!" One minute, Maya is making her own dolls from paper and markers, the next she wants the doll that really pees and poops. You can't start changing diapers too early right? And one minute, Ben only wants a skateboard for Christmas and suddenly his list is 10 feet long. One minute we have a household 'no fruit snack' policy, ( They're more sugar than fruit, so I'd rather buy real fruit and save the candy for the occasional treat) and the next they have to have the 2 foot long fruit roll ups.

I mean really, I can put up with the singing monsters and the hideous theme songs. But the commercials? The relentless marketing of sugar and plastic to my kids? I can definitley do without.

Hot Chicks

2009-10-29T13:24:00.000-05:00

Ben says, "Mama, where can we get some hot chicks?"

"Uh, excuse me?" I say. Oh god, he's four. What is sixteen going to be like?

Then he says, "You know, the hot chicks from the Max and Ruby* book."

"Ohhhhh! You mean the hot pink chicks? The hot pink marshmallow chicks?" Exhale.

"Yes! I want some." he says.

Phew.

*Max Counts his Chickens by Rosemary Wells

Buck

2009-10-28T08:28:00.000-05:00

Meet Harper, aka Buck.

He was a ranch dog,

But it turns out he is a lap dog,

or rather a housecat.

The name Buck may be a tad ambitious, for this lover of cats and kids and bread.

It's a dog's life.

And a cat's life too.

Mr. Persistent

2009-10-23T08:47:00.002-05:00

When Benji wants something, you better be prepared for some holes in the carpet where he has dug his heels in. And don't expect him to walk away anytime soon, because he's in it for the duration.

It usually goes something like this:

"I want xyz...." Ben says.

"You can't have xyz right now, Ben," I say.

"Well if you don't give me xyz right now, I won't let you play with my toys anymore." Hmm, I beginning to see a problem with my if ...then scenario as a teaching tool.

"That would be too bad. But you still can't have xyz right now," I say.

He thinks about this for a few minutes, then returns.

"I want xyz right now."

Sigh. "You can't have xyz right now. We already talked about this."

"If you don't let me have xyz right now, I'm not going to be your friend anymore." he fires back. He's pulling out all the stops now.

"That would be very sad. But you still can't have xyz right now." I answer. I'll show him persistence. Wait, what was that about modeling?

Finally it's bedtime, and the boy is still whining about xyz as he falls asleep. You might think it's all over now, right? He'll forget all about it, right?

Wrong. 10 hours later, the boy is prying open his eyes. He sits up in bed.

"I want xyz," he says.

"Ok." I say. His persistence is marvelling.

Things I Have Learned From Writing This Week

2009-10-19T14:27:00.002-05:00

Be very very suspect of yourself when you think you know it all.

Don't believe yourself when you think your manuscript is finished until you have at least three other writers concur.

Even though writing is a solitary activity, the perfecting of it should not be.

Don't be afraid to ask for help.

Don't be afraid to say, "I was wrong", and then re-write the heck out of your manuscript.

Don't ever give up.

With a slight alteration of words, all of these lessons apply not just to the writer's life, but to life in general.

Benji the Brave, Maya the Shy

2009-10-17T16:57:00.002-05:00

Maya and Ben are two very different children. Sometimes it's hard to believe they come from the same set of parents.

Take for instance, outings. In order to get Maya to greet someone, ask for something, or even just look someone in the eyes when she meets them takes an inordinate amount of prodding on my part. And even then, it usually doesn't have much effect.

Ben on the other hand, will talk to anyone. He will tell a perfect stranger how he just got new socks and underwear (he really has).

So today I indulged the kiddos in a little Burger King fun (they have free WiFi and with a laptop it is a great way for me to sneak in a little writing). After Ben came flying down the slide, he excitedly told me, "Mama, I just saw the most amazing sight (he really talks like this), "I slid down the slide on my back and I went so fast!" Then he looked over at the Spanish speaking family next to us and said, "Excuse me! Excuse me! (at least he has good manners right?) I just slid down the slide on my back and I went so fast! It was awesome! It was a cannonball slide," he continued to ramble.

"Wow," they said, slightly surprised by his desire to share.

I looked over to see them smiling and I had to laugh.

And then a few minutes later, he looks over at another family sitting near us. "Hey look! Look what this toy does!"

Maya looked slightly annoyed and slightly amused. Sometimes she is embarassed by her brother's outgoingness, but sometimes she uses it to her advantage.

"Go ask for another toy for me," she tells Ben. And without another thought, Ben's reply, "Ok!" He is the willing go-for in most situations.

And on rare occasions, he inspires Maya to be brave and rise above her shyness. One of my favorite stories is the one I tell of Maya and Ben a few years ago. Maya was 4 years old and Ben about a year and a half. We were at a Halloween carnival at my work and the building was packed with people in costumes. Ben, undaunted by the people walked around and around the building, smiling at everyone. After a while, Maya took up with him.

"Wow, Maya," I told her, "Look at you walking around with all these people."

And Maya simply said, "Ben makes me brave."

For a mother and a father who both grew up shy, Benji just might be one of the best gifts we could have ever given our daughter.

Phenomenal

2009-10-15T10:18:00.009-05:00

I often read the stories I write to my kids. My little guinea pigs. And although my stories have no pictures (yet) they listen intently, humoring me.

So recently, 4 year old Benjamin sat beside me on the couch, ready and waiting for my latest story. I read it as I would read any picture book, changing my voice for each character, emphasizing the parts that I thought were humorous or important or special.

When I finished, I asked as I always do, "Well, what did you think?"

I was expecting the usual replies, "It was good," or, "I liked it," and I know well enough not to depend too much on the answers I get.

But on this particular day, Benjamin replied, "I thought it was phenomenal!"

And that was, by far, the most phenomenal compliment anyone has ever given me.

From Love to Hate in 60

2009-10-10T20:54:00.002-05:00

This afternoon the kids were sitting on the couch, watching an after school movie, and carrying on a conversation about how much they love their Uncle Erik. "I love my Uncle Erik," Ben said.

"I know, me too," Maya said back.

I heard this conversation as I loaded the dishwasher in the next room. Warm, fuzzy thoughts pulsed through my body as I thought, What good kids. What sweet loving kids.

Not 60 seconds later, Ben stomped into the kitchen. "Maya won't share the Bakugan toy (some silly piece of cheap plastic from a McDonald's Happy Meal that is apparently the best toy on earth- besides pumpkins that is). Sigh. "Well give her a few minutes and then ask her again," I tell him, my warm and fuzzy moment slipping away.

"I told on you," Ben said snidely.

"Who cares," Maya says in return, venom in her voice.

Ah well. The loving moments may be fleeting, but a moment with is better than eternity without. Even if those moments without feel like an eternity at times.

Pumpkin Party

2009-10-06T19:07:00.004-05:00

Grandaddy has shown up at the house with a load of pumpkins from Muleshoe, Texas which boasts a fantastic pumpkin patch. The kids lug them into the house, flaunting their strength. "Look how strong I am!" they shout in turn, each trying to outdo the other. "This one is sooo big," Ben says. "But mine is really big," Maya replies.

"Why don't we put them on the porch?" I ask, squirming at the dirt piles which have begun to appear on my already dirt stained carpet.

Silly, silly mama.

"These pumpkins are in school," Maya says, ignoring my request. She lines them up and stands in front of them. "Stop that talking! You're in time out," she tells the big one with the twisty stem. "This one has asthma, she has to go to the nurse," she tells me pointing to a large pumpkin with a dent in it. Then she proceeds with a lecture about heavy and light, admonishing the talkers all the while. It seems these pumpkins are a noisy bunch and there is serious work to be done.

Meanwhile, Ben has piled his pumpkins on the couch. "It's a pumpkin hot tub," he says, sitting in the middle of the group. His pumpkins, on the other hand, are apparently a festive bunch.

I wonder if their pumpkin preferences are indicative of their future choices in life......

But later, Maya tires of the seriousness of pumpkin school and joins Ben's hot tub party on the couch. Minor squabbles erupt over whose pumpkins belong to who. "Noo Ben, that's mine!" Maya yells. Ben quickly offers the rational explanation that he is simply moving them. Of course.

The pumpkin party has gone on for well over two hours. In fact, it's the reason I am writing this post right now. Hmmm, if I can just find a way to live with 14 noisy, partying pumpkins for 25 more days, I just might get some serious writing done.

Pumpkins. Quite possibly the funnest toy ever.

Bird Watching

2009-10-01T16:28:00.001-05:00

"Look!" I shout as we drive down the access road. I've spotted something on the giant advertisement sign up ahead. "It's an owl! Oh my gosh, there's two!"

Benji archs his body in a desperate attempt to see what I've seen crying, "Where? Where?" And then it's too late, we've passed the sign and there's no where to stop. I really should stop doing this, because whenever I spot one of those rare birds the kids always miss it- strapped tightly in their seats, windows too small, the speed of the car too fast.

Yet they never seem to mind too much. They can still believe what they have not seen with their own eyes. I take care not to squander this trust, prowling through the bird book when we get home. I read names like red-tailed hawk, great horned owl, snowy egret. They repeat the names, the words clanking around their mouths in their child like attempts at pronunciation, practicing them until they slide out with ease. They are becoming good little bird watchers.

Bird watching for me is like faith. When I've spotted a bird, especially a unique one, I feel as if I am connected to something. Something big. Something wild. And my faith that the order of the world is as it should be is restored. I share this with my kiddos-teaching them to scan the skies. Teaching them to look for connections with what cannot be plugged in, cannot be touched, cannot be known in an instant. To look for these wild moments.

"Look mama! Hawks!" Ben shouts one morning. And while they are not hawks, but rather egrets, I am touched by his attempt, by his own sighting of what has completely passed me by. And I am reminded once again of children's uncanny ability to grasp the ethereal. If, we give them the chance.

Wild.

Playground Politics

2009-09-28T15:34:00.007-05:00

It's Monday morning and I have taken Benji and his friend to the park. We are the only people out in this warm fall morning and the ground is still wet with dew. The boys are happily playing a blessedly cooperative game where they pile food (mulch) on top of the slide and then let it glide down. They watch as it twists and turns and then yell, "Let's get some more!" Up and down. Up and down. I sit and watch, content in this rare moment of peace.

Then a mother and her two children arrive. Despite the fact that there are 4 play areas at this park, her children choose the one Ben and his friend are on. The boys fiercely guard their hard earned area, they have had this slide to themselves for almost an hour and they are in no mood to share it now. They stand with arms out stretched, blocking the slide's entrance. The mother, who hasn't been there for more than 60 seconds, immediately tells them, "You need to share! Where is your mother?" Uh oh.

I have to get up.

Do I have to get up?

I get up. "What's the problem?" I ask, trying to humor the woman, even though I really don't think I need to be involved just yet. Besides, my peaceful moment.....My irritation must show, because her face sets and her eyes narrow.

"They're not letting them slide," she says.

"Boys you need to share the slide," I say rather half heartedly. The boys offer a mild protest, while the woman's boy is happily onto something else, and the little girl is staring at her from the platform below the slide.

"Do they really want to slide?" I ask, pushing my luck.

"Yes, they have tried three times and the boys are blocking it. He's only 2 years old!"

Whoa.

"I'm not trying to argue with you," I say. Yes I am. "It's just that I don't see them trying to get on the slide."

Should we really be fighting this battle? Is it ours to fight? I mean, the kids didn't even ask to play on the slide. Not to mention that there are literally 4 other ones on the playground.

After I tell the boys again to share the slide, assuring them that the food piles they have worked so hard on will not be ruined, the woman takes her kids and leaves in a huff. I stand there stifling a giggle. It's so surprising that it's kind of funny.

But it gets me thinking, how much should we do for our kids in their conflicts? And what is it they learn when we do fight all of their playground battles for them?

First it's, Mommy do it for me, because I can't.
Then it's just, I can't.

I know of course that our children need much from us, and I am a pretty hands on mom. But, when it comes to social problems, I think kids should learn to talk, to negotiate, to figure things out. When it comes to hurting, either with words or with fists, then we step in, giving them more appropriate words or showing them more appropriate actions. But the boys today, didn't even get a chance to make their case. The other kids didn't even get a chance to decide if it was worth fighting for. How will they ever learn to have a voice if someone else always speaks for them?

Sometimes a fight is worth fighting for. Sometimes, it's just a slide. And sometimes playground politics are better left to the kids.

Just Like Daddy

2009-09-25T08:30:00.003-05:00

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" I ask.

"Daddy doesn't wear a shirt," Benji answers.

A few days later, Daddy and Benji come traipsing down the stairs sporting matching shirts with the sleeves cut off, a favorite summer style of AJ's.

"What happened to your shirt?" I ask.

"Daddy cut the sleeves off just like his." Benji answers, grinning.

Oh, I think. I'm beginning to see a pattern here. It's cute, really.

But a few weeks later when Benji comes home from a trip to Cabela's with Daddy, excitedly waving a new junior bow and arrow set, a smaller version of daddy's prized posession, I put on my best scowl and say, "A bow, really? At four years old?" Not so cute, really.

AJ dons a sheepish smile, "They didn't have any of the cheap ones with the suction cups," he says.

I grill them both with safety questions, frowning all the while. "Well I'm not too happy about this," I say redundantly. But my words are lost in the animated talk of the happiest four year old boy. Ever.
But later I see them together, shoulder to shoulder, Benji's little arms tense with the strain of pulling the bow strings back, and then whoosh, an arrow flies off. Dang it, he's good. He bubbles through the door a few minutes later, telling me how he hit the target, and I realize then my heart has taken a hit too.

How can I possibly deny the joy that comes from a son's imitation of his father? A father's joy of sharing something he loves with his son?

"I'm proud of you!" I say with a smile. And in that moment, I am proud of them both.

It's beautiful, really.

Sick for Profit

2009-09-22T10:46:00.003-05:00

If you want to see something really sick....

And So It Is

2009-09-17T16:36:00.001-05:00

And so it is: like father like son.

Out of the Ashes

2009-09-16T10:24:00.004-05:00

My Aunt Pat is an amazing woman. Although I haven't seen her in years, she lives on in my heart and mind like the stuff from a novel. A true heroine.

When I was younger, my Aunt Pat was both nurturing and sensitive to my overwhelming sensitivities. I remember taking a trip to London with her and my mom when I was about 17 years old. This was smack in the middle of those hectic teenage years, and my mother and I were pulling at both ends of our familial rope. But my aunt was like a calm breeze in the tornado of my soul; she could both reason with me and set me straight at the same time. I'll never forget that.

She grew up in the San Francisco bay area, and when her teen teen years hit, the Haight Ashbury district beckoned like a lighthouse in the fog of teenage angst. And while our family often hints that this time in her life was a black spot, I always secretly admired the kind of guts it must have taken to leave her upright and tidy home, for the wildness of the streets. Sure, she probably got into more trouble than I know, but I also know that longing for escape from the constraints of a society that so often says, "This is the way it must be..." I always (and still do) respected her desire to do something, to make a change somewhere, somehow. But just as I discovered in the hey dey of my years of youthful abandon, it's not always as easy as doing different. That's the fun part because escape is only the beginning. Then the real work comes.

That real work would likely begin when, later, she settled in Montana, on one of the most beautiful pieces of mountainous, tree filled land you could imagine. She led a simple life, no doubt sticking to many of those ideals she surely developed in her Haight Ashbury days. She was no weekend hippy, she lived what she believed. She believed in her life, and she believed in the man she loved. Together, they worked something like 10,000 acres of land and cattle, had geese for pets, a couple of Jersey milk cows, dogs, and the wildness around them. Her husband Dan even unearthed what would turn out to be an entire dinosaur skeleton, now on display at a museum. Special people, I tell you. I visited them once, and for this native Californian it was like living in the past. Foreign and yet, somehow satisfying. Living off the land.

These hard working people, true American souls, suffered greatly when Pat's husband became ill with cancer. Unable to afford the ridiculous cost of health insurance on a rancher's salary, he went without. I am not sure how much care he actually got in the end, but I do know he finally succumbed to his disease, and either my aunt is left to handle the bills, or they spent every last dime they had paying for them, because their pristine place in the mountains, which had been in Dan's family forever, is no longer theirs.

Fast forward to 2009, death and loss a few years gone. With a new Presidential Administration, my Aunt Pat writes a heartwrenching letter to Congress, telling her story and making the case for healthcare reform. Suddenly, my Aunt is catapulted into politics when she is invited to join a special team in Washington that will work to boost the case of healthcare for everyone by telling their stories of loss. She hobnobs with the big boys and girls, jets around Washington, even attends Senator Al Franken's acceptance speech. And just like that, out of the ashes of one of the greatest losses of her life, she springs forth like the phoenix that she is, to do something big. Not just for herself, but for all the people like her and who may become like her in the future.

And so, if I could, I would give her the Person of the Year award. Because not only has her whole life been about making a difference, but it has also been about being true to herself. And she has finally gotten the chance to do that on a bigger scale, in a way that I am confident will touch many people. So whether or not health care reform actually gets passed, I know that a very special person made the effort. For the good of our country, our people, and the millions of people affected by cancer and other terminal diseases. That's more than I can say for the majority of politicans in Washington right now.

Out of the ashes. You never know what might rise.

A Boy and His Dog

2009-09-06T17:30:00.002-05:00

I never wonder what it would be like not having any pets in our home. Because I can't even imagine not witnessing scenes like this.

The Shyness In Her

2009-08-27T08:08:00.013-05:00

There have been many times when, as a parent, I relive some childhood issue when one of my children struggle with the same problem I had growing up. But never have either of my children been faced with a more difficult situation as that classic fear inducing assignment: public speaking.

Maya has an assignment to present various items brought from home which will help tell the class something about herself. The teacher is asking the kids to stand up in the front of the room and after the brief presentation is done, answer questions from the other students. Maya is beyond scared and cried for a good thirty minutes last night before giving into an exhausted sleep.

As a child I was terrified to speak in front of a group of any size, even a group of one. It was my chief struggle in school and I did anything to avoid it. I felt so....exposed. Vulnerable. Naked. I was never good at vulnerability; I'd rather keep my insides to myself thank you very much. Back then, I would rather take a zero than get up there and be on display. Even in college, I was not much better. In each new class, I would anxiously scan the syllabus and immediately consider dropping the class if it required a major presentation.

But avoidance was only a temporary fix; it was not completely avoidable. One cannot hide behind curtains forever. My professional career brought many speaking necessities and I actually became good at them, although my fear still lurked and surfaced every time. But my success was only accomplished after thirty something years of practice-of learning that no one really cares as much about how I look as I do. How do I explain to my dear daughter who, at all of seven years, faces a lifetime of anxiety and fear of public speaking? I can't very well say, "Don't worry darling, after thirty years it will get much better."

I remember a little boy in my second grade class who was extremely shy. When it came time for him to give a book presentation, he stood in front of the class, paralyzed. He was completely frozen in fear. His eyes held a look of wide eyed panic. His face was rigid. He didn't say a word for an entire five minutes. He just stood there. I sat in my seat, my fear waning just a little as I thought, well at least I am not that bad.

But what if Maya is that bad? What if she has no one with whom to compare her fear? I have no answers. I have no solutions. I have only apologies that this unfortunate trait was passed onto her. So I sit with her and hold her fear in my arms, letting her tears wash over us both and hope that maybe, just maybe, it won't take thirty years for her to mostly overcome it.

~Update: Maya had a substitute today who let the kids present at their desks. She still had to stand up and talk, but she did it!

Austin Art

2009-08-24T18:16:00.022-05:00

I love the art and form of human grace,

and art that seamlessly blends into and exalts nature.

I am grateful for art that is touchable, knowable, accessible,

and the art of family life.

I love the art of one of nature's greatest champions,

and the art of the connection between human and beast and the greater unknown.

But there is no art that I love more than this masterpiece.

~Photos taken at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin Texas

My Writing Life

2009-08-17T09:12:00.009-05:00

"Hope is the power of being cheerful in circumstances we know to be desperate. Writing can be a pretty desperate endeavor, because it is about some of our deepest needs: our need to be visible, to be heard, our need to make sense of our lives, to wake up and grow and belong."
~Excerpt from Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

In all the years that I have wanted to be a writer, which have been as many as I can remember, I have never heard or been able to articulate for myself just what it means to me to write. Until now.

Over the past few weeks it has been recommended numerous times that I read Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. At first I ignored these suggestions, thinking smugly, yeah yeah, I don't need any more philosophy about writing. After all, I have read every work Natalie Goldberg has ever written. I get it. But after the third time I saw this book sitting quietly on the library shelf, something about it beckoned. So I picked it up. And within minutes my mind was blown wide open.

Finally, here is a writer I completely get. She writes of how as an anxious child and teenager, she buried herself in books and I felt like she was describing me. She describes the neuroses that magically appear the moment you sit down to write, nagging you with desperate thoughts that you are no good and you might as well stop now, with utter precision. But then there are those other moments too when, suddenly, it's like God coming through your fingertips and click, your connected. Hooked. Locked in. You're where you should be, doing what you are supposed to be doing. Yes.

I have spent the last year writing in earnest, trying out various types of writing to see which one "fits" me best. I have discovered that writing children's books is without question what I am supposed to do. Partly because when I sit down to write a story my neuroses keep mostly to themselves and partly because the stories tumble out of me like cookies from an open box. I have written 8 pretty decent manuscripts in the past 6 months and the box isn't empty yet.

Yet I struggle with an engulfing desire to be published. I'm ready. I know my work is good. But in this business you wait. And wait and wait. And I'm not so good at waiting. Yet perhaps waiting is good because maybe my naivete will dissipate while waiting. And that can only help, right? I guess it's just that part of me that wants to be validated, to be heard, to make sense of my life. And it is precisely this struggle that made Anne Lamott's book just so meaningful to me. She says, "Being published is not all its cracked up to be. But writing is." Word sister.

For now I will have to be content with God coming through my fingertips, (as if that is any small thing) because whether or not I ever actually become published, writing stories is what I do. Don't misunderstand, it's not that I believe my work to be divine, it's more of a feeling that for me, writing is part of a divine plan for my life. It's my religion. It's how I connect to something bigger than myself and make sense of not only my life, but of the world. Other than becoming a parent, it is the most meaningful endeavor I can name.

I remember being around 8 years old and sitting down at my parent's type writer. I did not know how to type, yet I spent hours with deeply furrowed brow, poking along the seemingly random letters, pecking out a story. It was laborious and it took me hours but I did it because somewhere in the dark inscrutable caverns of my soul, I was compelled. I still am.

It sure would be nice to one day get paid for doing it though. Sigh.

The Summer of Swim

2009-08-13T07:57:00.004-05:00

This summer has brought with it the gift of two children who can swim. That might not be an entirely amazing fact, but considering one of them is only four, newly four at that, it is.

Maya was the first to hone her aquatic skills enough to be able to swim independently- sans floaties, life jackets and the like. And of course little brother, being the persistent being that he is, had to quickly follow her lead. But it all started when Maya made the confident assertion that when he was four, Ben would be able to swim under water. Despite mom and dad's wise counsel that he would be able to swim "when he was ready", he took sister's word as gospel. So much for the hard earned wisdom of our years (this is a common complaint in our house).

And so, when Benji turned four, he had it in his head, that he was ready to swim. Maya said so after all! But I see now the benefit of his stubborness, his persistence. And the power of positive thinking. After insisting he not wear a life jacket anymore and with daddy's help, he quickly figured it out.

Two days ago, both kiddos came home with brightly colored bands on their small ankles (too big for their wrists). They proudly stuck out swim pruned feet for me to see. "What are those?" I inquired. "We passed the swim test!" they shouted with excitement. And indeed they had-despite the lifeguard's doubt that Ben could do it at that. Both of them had passed the YMCA's swim test that proves they can swim well enough to not have an adult within arm's reach in water over four feet.

No more sweating and worrying as they walk around a pool. No more getting in the pool if I really don't feel like it. No one more floaties, life jackets, and other cumbersome equipment. Now its goggles and dive sticks. And mandatory trips to the YMCA, every-single- day. Hurray.

The Genius of Messy

2009-08-05T13:57:00.007-05:00

Maya's room is in a constant state of disarray. Snippets of paper are strewn about like ticker tape, paper dolls hang from the ceiling and are taped to the dresser. Cap less markers leak onto the bedspread, clothes, carpet. Make believe scenes full of little animals or creatures, some made out of treasures found at the recently vacated house down the street, some made out of paper or cardboard, some from pipecleaners or straws. "Make up" made from glue and strawberry scented shampoo add a sticky glaze to dressers and carpet. It's quite a wonder really.

And while I respect the creativity my girl employs daily, sometimes for impressive amounts of time, at some point her room has got to be at least an organized mess. I refrain from nagging her to clean it up however, because past attempts to do so were met with looks of utter confusion, as if my dear child had no idea what I was talking about. "Clean? What's clean?" But I have drawn the line at a once a week raking. And I do mean raking.

So we bring in a kitchen trash bag and fill it to the brim with the remnants of what I like to think are the products of her creative genius. What we cannot pick up with our hands, which is often alot, gets sucked up by the vacuum. The creatures piled in one of the many homemade abodes. Some Simple Green to clean up the muck and we're good to go for another week. If we're lucky.

So how do I know if this is creative genius or just plain messy? It's all in how I choose to look at it I guess. And I'd rather see her as a genius, wouldn't you?

The Entrepreneur

2009-07-19T12:16:00.003-05:00

Trekking For Trevor

2009-07-11T19:24:00.004-05:00

My brother is a runner and overall athlete extraordinairre. Completely unlike me in that respect. His competitive resume is long and impressive, including a 100 mile race through the Lake Tahoe mountains, an Iron Man triathalon, and a trek across Spain- and that's only naming a few. I don't know how he does it, but I have always been impressed by his ability to push his body beyond unimaginable limits.

Now he is teaming up with a long time friend who is a cancer survivor, to run another grueling race in order to raise money for a little boy named Trevor who is battling cancer. They have aptly named their run, Trekking for Trevor. Take a look at the website and if you can, take a minute to donate and add support to this cause. A child with cancer is one of the most heartbreaking things I can imagine. And believe me, these guys will seriously be earning every dime during this 220 mile (no there's not supposed to be any decimals in that number) "ultra run."

http://www.cancerrunner.org/Welcome.html

Love is a Verb

2009-07-10T09:04:00.011-05:00

I was reading over at Girl's Gone Child recently, about Rebecca's feeling the need for space from her 9 month old- and the motherly guilt attached with having such feelings. I think as parents, there are always times when we need space, time when we don't have a baby attached to breast or hip, time when we are not serving the 100th snack of the day, not answering the one thousandth call for Mama!, not refereeing the gazillionth argument.

And yet, I am inclined to think of the person (I can't remember who) who said that love is a verb- an action, a doing. Yes, sometimes we don't feel like being loving, but we do loving things because- we love that person. I guess in some ways it could be called a sacrifice, but loving someone means that sometimes we do things we really don't feel like doing. We do it to make them happy, to strengthen our relationship. We do it because loving them means we have an interest in their happiness and well being.

I think it is totally normal to feel the need for some independence and the consequent guilt for having that need. As my kids get older, it gets easier to explain to them, I need a rest, or I need a few minutes to myself. And as long as they consistently get my time and attention, and good naturedness, they accept those explanations pretty easily. I think it's important to give them those words, those ideas, so that they grow up to be kids that can give to others and yet not lose themselves in the giving. To take for themsleves without being selfish.

We are all human and the parent child realtionship is probably the most difficult within which to find that balance. Perhaps it isn't really a balance, so much as it is giving enough to fill the needs of our kids, and taking enough for ourselves to remain sane. I think all of us could do with a little less guilt in parenting, but then perhaps guilt serves an important purpose in forcing us to constantly re-evaluate what we are doing. To decide what to do differently next time. The difficulty lies in deciding when the guilt is substantiated and when it is not.

I guess the best we can do is to strive for our best parenting without really ever hoping to attain it. We all know we will never be the perfect parent free from guilt or mistakes. But in the end, we must find the joy in the giving and get rid of the guilt when we must take a little for ourselves too. And remember that love is a verb.

The Dry Spell

2009-07-08T19:42:00.003-05:00

As if the summer is not dry enough, I have been sweating through the dryest of writing seasons in months. No real estate writing, no Austin Family, and basically few ideas or the motivation to put what few I have down on paper or blog. Just dry.

I read some writing advice once that said you cannot just wait around for creative ideas to come floating in like rain clouds, sometimes you have to just sit down and write. Write anything. Because writing is about a craft, a skill, like many other professions, and although it is about creativity, it is also about discipline and dedication to the work that writing takes. So here I am, pounding out words on the keyboard. If I can't write about anything else, I may as well write about my difficulty writing, right? If anything, I have succeeded in saying "write" as often as possible in this small paragraph. That should help, write? Oh, I mean right?

Ughhh. Here's to some much needed rain. At this point a flood would be nice.

Another Year, Another Cake

2009-07-08T13:40:00.003-05:00

And how easily this newly four year old reverts to one year old behavior....