Day Three on the March toward Kitchen Perfection

There were almost casualties today.


It was tough. But we made it. I survived. I prayed a lot. And was too tired to cry.

I took a picture of the finished tile, but I can't post it yet. I'll do that tomorrow. It looks good though I won't like it until tomorrow when I can actually walk on it.

It's gotta get better. It's just got to.

and just when you think it can't get any worse.....

it does. And then your internet goes out and you can't blog about it. And your hubby/mom/sister don't answer their phones. And the company can't find record of your payment and want a faxed letter proving the charge on your credit card. And your toddler poops. And your toe starts bleeding all over.

And when you do get ahold of your hubby, he says he's feeling flu-like and might come home. And when you do get ahold of your sister, she's trying to get her hubby into the surgeon. And when you do get ahold of your mom,.... well, let's just say you don't really want to talk to her.

And your toddler is still grouchy and your tortoise still can't go outside and you still are operating on 4 hours of sleep and you are still about to be kicked out the top part of your house because of the tile guys and you still have 4 loads of laundry to do and it's still really cold and rainy outside and .....

Sigh. I won't beat my head against the wall, but maybe if I just lie it here on the corner of the table, I can just close my eyes for a little bit and imagine everything is just okay. It's all okay. It's okay. It's okay.

Until your internet goes out again. And....

Wishful Thinking

I'll fill the bathtub with dirty dishes & warm water & soap and command the fairies in the universe to NOT wash them and then I'll shut the bathroom door and come back later to find them magically washed, rinsed, dried, and stacked.

Think it will happen?



oh.



Well, can someone make my toddler stop screaming and fighting with his brother?







oh.



Well, alright.




Thanks anyways.

Fall Colors

Since I had to be out of my house for most of the day, I decided to head down to BYU for my own personal "Homecoming." I graduated from there 10 years ago. The toddler and I wandered through the bookstore and had a great time at the Provo DI (one of the best!).

After that I drove up Provo Canyon to get a good look at the fall colors. Here's some of my favorite pictures.

Day Two on the March toward Kitchen Perfection

Before---

After--

We have to stay off of the thinset until tomorrow morning which means we have to go outside, through the carport, and in the back door to get downstairs.

Trying to keep the toddler off the floor hasn't been too bad yet, but trying to get a dog desperate to go potty was impossible. See:

Nice little doggie prints, huh? I started yelling at him when he got close to it, but he couldn't stop soon enough. Then like an obedient little dog, he sat right down on the edge of the floor and waited for me to tell him what to do.

Gut-Less

Here's our gutted kitchen. The hubby is doing some last minute repairs to the floor before the tile guys show up to do stage one of the tile. Hermy is up and at it early this morning and decided to explore the new scene.

So far so good.

The New Dishwasher

is me. In the bathtub. (slight groan). The biggest problem tonight was keeping the toddler from joining the dishes. I ended up putting him in the bath later.

Day One on the March toward Kitchen Perfection

And so the work of gutting the kitchen begins. Goodbye, fair sink; goodbye beloved dishwasher! I will miss you! I will see you soon!

The kids are helping pull out the many, many nails left in the floor. Most of the cabinets are now in the carport and we're about to carry out the dishwasher and stove and sink (those things are heavy!) After that we have to patch a few spots in the floor, pull out the rest of the nails, and then we are done.

For today.

My daughter asked what smelled good. I said "dinner." She asked where it was. I said "in the bathroom." She made a funny face: huh? Yep. Dinner is cooking in the bathroom today. I have no idea what is for dinner tomorrow night, but at least for tonight it is done.

I'm just taking a day at a time. I have a general idea of what each day will bring, but I'm waiting to adjust and cope with the changes. I feel fairly calm about the whole thing. The frustrating part is that it's hot! It was a record setter today and I can't wait for it to cool down on Wednesday (when the high will go from 90 today to 52; ya gotta love Utah's climate shifts).

So far so good. I'm good. I'm calm. I'm absolutely exhausted. I have a grouchy toddler that I was tempted to give to the circus today, but he's better now with ibuprofen in him.

All is well.

a Nap

I should like to have a nap today, please. It would be very helpful for my overall wellbeing and fitness. As well as for my emotional health and strength.

And if I don't get one, I will throw a fit loudly until someone forces me to lay down.

And if that doesn't work, then I'll whine and cry about everything until someone forces me to take one.

And if that doesn't work, then I'll make a mess of the whole house until someone forces me to take one.


And if THAT doesn't work, then I'll have no choice but to lay down while the toddler is sleeping.


But don't say I didn't warn you. I did.

I need a nap.

Remodel Update

How to make your life chaotic in 5 easy steps:

Step One: tear the kitchen apart in preparation for painting right before you have 3 extra kids eating over for dinner.

Oh, and unplug the stove AND the microwave before trying to make dinner.

Step Two: while waiting for the first coat of primer to dry, start tearing up the kitchen floor.

Oh, and try to use the hammer and pry bar the most while the toddler is sleeping.


Step Three: stop to remark how ugly the underlying linoleum is.

Oh, and tell your children so they can repeat it to each other repeatedly for the next hour or two.

Step Four: try to serve lunch with your kitchen in your living room.

Oh, and make sure you don't have enough space to put things.


Step Five: leave the floor half done so it can stay like that through Sunday. Half sorta ugly linoleum and half really ugly linoleum.

Oh, and take pictures and post them to your blog so people can be SOOOO glad it is NOT their house! ;O)

400!

This is my 400th post. Woo-hoo!

What's your lucky number??

3,000 is mine! Cuz I have had 3,000 visits on the site since I stuck the counter on. Woo-hoo! That's awesome!

And they're not even all from my mom! Super sweet!

Thanks for reading.

Writing Class number 4

Yesterday's class was awesome! The kids were great. I started off the class by reviewing the homework and got completely caught off guard when one guy, who has refused to do any homework, showed me all 3 homework assignments! Whoa! When the teens do their homework, I give them a monkey sticker on their syllabus in their notebook. He definitely earned his 3 monkeys! Only a few of the teens shared their fiction story that they wrote this past week; some of them were really good. It surprised me.

I started off the class by asking "Who hates poetry?" No one raised their hand.

"Alright, who's lying?"

They shrugged. They all liked poetry just fine, they told me. Whoa! We spent 2o minutes or so taking turns reading poems from Robert Frost, Emily Dickinson, a couple of teens, Shel Silverstein, William Carlos Williams, Rick Walton, and others. I made sure there were poems in almost every category from ridiculous to cute to depressing to death/suicidal. We had a lot of fun. They didn't get Emily Dickinson's "I felt a funeral in my brain" or "this is to say" by William Carlos Williams or the teen's declaration that her life was worthless and no longer worth living. We had a really good discussion and some laughs. And some blank stares too.

Our writing prompt was: "Roses are red, violets are blue, ______(fill in the blank)___" That was great. Some of the kids were silly; some were serious; some could barely write two more lines and some kept writing about love being like swarms of butterflies, etc. The one teen who has been passively defiant at best and refused to do anything had a great time writing about chickens, buffalos, and whatever nonsense things he could think of. He had a great time.

I had a great time reading them poetry though I can't say if they had a good time listening. That's why I made them read it too. I'm anxious to see what they come up with on their own. Next week we'll lose 2 more kids. We're down from 17 to 9. We did get 3 new teens over the past two weeks. The good thing is that here on out the kids will get all of the classes as I keep cycling through. Already I feel like each time I go I get more ideas on how to teach better and how to hold their attention.

Plus now I can say I've been given permission to administer consequences if they don't participate or help out. I told them yesterday "I'm not ready to play that card, but I want you to know that it's in my pocket." There's one kid in particular who needed to hear that one.

Can't wait for next week. We discuss nonfiction. Woo-hoo! Think of all the fun!

......pssssttttt.... NEED HELP...... SOS!!!!

I'm trapped in my house with a tiny toddler tyrant, the 6 year old center of the universe, and a diva. Plus two computer-destroying birds, a messy kitchen, and a clingy dog.

Send help soon!


or at least a maid.


And maybe some Pepsi!


But QUICK! I'm not sure how long I can hold them off......

Truth Telling

Some days I get so tired of my kids continual search for things to prove that they are the most picked on beings in the WHOLE world-- or at least the whole house.

"Why does he get one and not me?"

"I didn't get that. That's not fair!"

"But what about me?"

One day in a burst of frustration mixed with inspiration, I decided to vocalize the underlying message behind these whinings:

"Why? Because we love him/her better than you."

I say this in my most deadpan, most neutral face that I can muster. The kids in response usually look shocked for a moment, look at my face, and then say "Nu-uh! That's not true!"

"No," I say calmly. "It's not. Things are different for each of you."

I said this a couple weeks ago while ordering cabinets. The salesperson burst out laughing. He thought it was so funny!

What is funny is the response of the kids. Even though it's what they are thinking/feeling/believing, when they actually hear it, they don't like it or believe it. And I make sure I've said it enough times so that each child has heard it (well, maybe not the toddler since he can't whine about fairness yet. Thankfully). So I'm not unfairly targeting one or the other of them.

Sometimes it's very useful to take those deep seated fears that roll around obnoxiously in our heads and speak them out loud so we can realize how ridiculous they are. They seem so large and true inside, but outside they are measly little things that hold no power other than what we give them.

Deep Thinking

Is it just me or have you ever really worried that if you were to truly examine your life, your fears, your insecurities, and all your failures that you would find at the very heart of the matter-- the sum of ALL your problems and struggles-- is that you've never been able to successfully run a multi-level marketing business out the trunk of your car?


yeah. I feel it. You're not alone.

Reservations at the Pity Party Palace

"Sarah, party of one. Your table is now ready."

I follow the waiter through the dimly-lit, stinky halls, down a deep flight of stairs, and finally to a small room at the back of nowhere.

"I waited an hour for this?"

The waiter rolls his eyes. "Yes, and you should be lucky you could even get something this nice." He throws a menu down on the table held up on one side with a stack of mismatched bricks. "Someone might be with you eventually," he calls over his shoulder. He pauses and gives me one final look. "But, for you, probably not."

And then I'm left alone. In a nasty dark little room with a sputtering candle and a wooden crate for a chair. Down the hall I hear frequent bursts of laughter and music floating merrily. "At least someone is having fun," I mutter under my breath. "It's not me. I wasn't invited to a party like that. I get stuck down here and left all alone with no service and no friends and no family and no anything. The room stinks and it's cold and this chair is hard and I hate it. I hate being here. It's not fair. I shouldn't be here. I should be taken care of since I'm always doing good things for everyone else, but when it's my turn.... nooooooo. I get stuck here. Alone."

I slump lower on my creaking crate and sink further and further into a slump. Another burst of laughter echos through the hall. "You're the best woman in the whole world!"

"Humph," I grumble, "she's probably stick thin and has perfect children and no flaws on her face and is absolutely wonderful to everyone." I shake my head. "Snot," I whisper, "I wouldn't invite her to my party anyways."

"Not that she would want to come," I finally admit.

A long time goes by and still no one comes. The only sounds are the increasingly loud bursts from what appears to be a fabulous party. A fabulous party that no one invited poor me to. I continue to sit and mope and feel sorry for myself. Eventually even the candle stops giving off light and I sit alone in the dark.

After an even longer time, I stand up. My legs are numb, my back is sore, and I'm tired of waiting. "I'm fed up with this! I'm not taking it any more." I walk down the hall and climb the stairs. Eventually I make my way back to the front desk. "I'm sick of waiting in that horrible room!" I announce loudly. "I'm not staying. Consider my reservation canceled! I deserve better than this!"

"Wait!" says a cheerful voice from behind me. "Were you just downstairs?"

"Yes. In your worst room and no one came. It was terrible!"

The waitress smiles at me. "You don't have to sit down there. We have lovely seating available upstairs."

"Then why did that man" I point toward the waiter standing near us "put me down there?!"

"Jacques took one look at your face when you walked in and thought you might feel more comfortable down there. But obviously, he was wrong. Come with me."

A bit reluctantly I follow her toward a bright, sunny hallway. I take the first step up and then turn around to see Jacques leading another woman, her face forlorn, toward the back of the hall. As she passes I hear her complain bitterly "Why does she get to go upstairs? Aren't I good enough? Obviously I don't deserve that. Instead I get stuck...." Her voice trails off.

Final Tally

11 quarts of grape juice. While it feels good to have done it, it was a LOT of work. And it's hard to be really excited about it because Costco sells two of these:

for $8. Two of them! I suppose when I manage to get all the grape stains off my kitchen floor and clothes and wash all the pans and such, then I'll feel more excited about what I've done.

"Obama asks moms to return to school"

Have you seen these ads? There's new student loan funding for people who want to return to school after a long break-- like moms. So that got me thinking "Hmm, maybe I should go back to school." But when I looked at a list of degree programs, I realized that I have most of the skills already (thanks to being a mom). See:

TV/VCR Repair-- "No, the TV has to be on Video 3 for the DVD player to work, kids!"

Auto Mechanics-- "Sit down, be quiet, and keep your seat belts on or the car won't drive!"

Accounting-- "You can earn 25 cents if you do this chore; if you do 4 more chores, then you'll have enough money to buy the toy."

Computer Programming-- "You can only get on the computer if I type in my password first."

Electrician-- "If you stick that in the outlet, then you will die."

Animal Care Specialist-- "The dog doesn't want his ears brushed with a toothbrush. He wants to be left alone."

Legal Assistant-- "Yes, the police will arrest you if you do that. And you'll go to jail. And then how will you go to school, huh?"

Bookkeeping-- "You put your school library books over there on the counter. I didn't touch them. What happened to them?"

Medical Office Assistant-- "Yes, I'd like to bring my child in to see the doctor. This is a follow-up... No, he was seen two months ago... No, the doctor asked me to bring him in.... It was written in his chart... Yes, I got permission.... That's in his chart too."

Hotel/Restaurant Management-- "Dinner is at 6 pm. If you don't like it, then you can wait till breakfast tomorrow."

Locksmith-- "If you don't open this door right NOW, I'm going to open it for you. And it will not be pretty."

Interior Decorating-- "Hey! Stop! Keep the fork off the wall! I don't want the walls all scratched up!"

Art-- "It's beautiful!. . . . . . . What is it? "

Fitness/Nutrition-- "Go outside and run around before you break something in here!"

Travel-- "At 4 pm we have to leave for the church and then at 4:30 we need to go to karate and then at 5 pm we will all come back here and then at 6 pm we'll eat dinner and then at 7 you two will go back to the church...."


See? I've got skills! I don't need to go back to school. That was a good thing to discover. Now I can just keep focusing on gaining more skills-- numb-chuck skills, bow-hunting skills, computer hacking skills.

an AMAZING Story!

http://www.deseretnews.com/article/705331427/Seeing-Burgon-Blind-deaf-teen-lives-her-life-to-the-fullest.html

You gotta read this! This teen is absolutely amazing! I loved it. The hubby read it to our kids and they sat and listened to the whole thing.

El Progresso de la Canning

This is half of the grapes. Yep, half. A lot, huh?

The other half of the grapes are in the juicer. Here's a lovely picture of our half kitchen. But canning in half a kitchen is better than trying to can with no kitchen.

And the title isn't Spanish. I know, you're surprised, but I did make it up. Just thought I should clarify in case you ever visit a Spanish speaking country and try to impress the locals. They won't be impressed. Trust me on this one.

Say, who is that masked avenger?

It is I, Senora hermana of the perpetual order of mating grasshoppers and earwigs that infest the gardens of our land. And today is the day. The day we pluck from the vines the fruit of our labors and turn them into juice for its preservation and our benefit through the throes of winter.

The side of the sink is filled to capacity with stems and stems of purple sweetness, and I'm now ready to start picking them off the stems. Even before (gasp!) the first real freeze. I predict that the first real freeze will arrive two weeks before my new sink and counter tops, and so, I am breaking with age old (or was that old age?) canning lady tradition by juicing today.

I know, I know. I do believe that I can handle it. I've warded off earwig dens, ant trails, spider webs, and the red-light grasshopper district in this neighborhood to make this all possible. And I am finding myself to be exceedingly amusing-- especially while talking to the grasshoppers. Could it be the heat? no, it is only 70 degrees outside. Could it be the air? no, the air is bright and crisp and no one is currently burning garbage. Could it be something I drank? no, the grape juice was NOT fermented. Could it be my superior wit and humor? no, you've heard me talking before.

It is the effects of the migraines, my dear friends. They will do that to you-- screw up your brain's blood cells and leave you writhing in pain and acting like an idiot.

But I can take it. And the grapes will be done.

All the while singing a preschool song in my head and thinking about just how much I truly hate "I Love Lucy." (shudder). What a terrible show that was.


FYI: Lucy & Ethel crushed grapes into grape juice; supposedly one of the funniest shows ever. It was stupid. I didn't get it.

Losing my Mind

Well, not really, but I've lost of a bag of fossils and it's driving me crazy!!!!! Grghaah! Where are they????

And I lost my toddler's swim shirt (left it at the Rec center).

I hate losing things. It aggravates me. I need to be more low-key and shake it off with a shrug.

And I usually get there...... after I drive myself and my family crazy while tearing apart the house looking for it and asking each of them 400 times if they've seen the lost item and questioning my sanity and feeling frustrated and gritting my teeth.

And then I let it go. Pretty impressive, eh?

Remodel Update

There's nothing to update, actually. The cabinets were delayed a week and so the chaos starts this weekend when we pull out the base cabinets and the floor. Oy! I'm not sure how we'll function.

On Saturday the only improvements made were ripping out some dead sunflowers in the front yard and scraping off the ugly wall paper border along the top of the stairs. That was the extent of my remodeling efforts.

Never fear, more pictures and chaos to be posted this weekend.

Noon on Saturday

It's almost noon on Saturday. I do believe the hardest part of the weekend is over for me. I'm even up and dressed. My kids are all dressed and fed. The dishwasher is even running.

I feel like I should be productive right now. But I'm having such a hard time getting/staying/becoming motivated. I would sit down and rest, but when I do the toddler thinks that I am inviting him to jump on me. Or read "The Pigeon Finds a Hotdog" for the 75th time. Neither is appealing. So I'm standing here, dreaming of a nap and wishing I had more energy to do something.

Last night I counted the hours until bed. When it finally hit 8 pm, I was estatic and thought I could put my kids to bed (so I could go to bed)! Woo hoo! I thought wrong. The first thing that happened was the toddler spilled my large cup of water on me, soaking my entire right side. And then he refused to go to bed. Oy!

By 10 pm, I was as desperate as he was wired. It was a bad combination. I was so grateful when he finally conked out. And then I did. And slept okay. But I'm still tired.

And I think I'll risk sitting down again. Even if just for a moment. or two.

Life's Weekend Math

1 mom + 3 kids + 1 hubby + 6 animals + 2 foster bunnies + 3 poodles to babysit + 1 Scout campout - 1 hubby + 1 ward party + 1 primary party + one accidentally cut open thumb - wall cabinets x 1 son in meltdown / (divided by) a 4 day menstrual migraine = ???

Perhaps 1 extraordinarily fried out mom.



Welcome to your weekend, Mom. We hope you survive.

Writing Prompt

So, do you want to do me a favor? Do you want to follow the fiction writing prompt I give the teens in my writing class? Just post your fictional story in the comments section.

(Fill-in-the-blank) "I opened the large orange box and found ______________"


4 to 5 sentences (more if you want to) about what you find.



Thanks!

Writing Class number 3

Today's class taught me about how I need to be prepared for the in and out nature of the center. We had a few fewer kids and about 5 more who are headed home within a matter of days. We also had two new students who just barely came in and are trying to set themselves up in the whole pecking order of the place.

It changed the dynamics of the group. And I admit I wasn't prepared for that. Plus I have kid who is determined (I think) to be subtly defiant. This student has yet to complete a single homework assignment and gives me the "chin" when I confront her/him about it. I'm not going to get into a head-butting competition so I just ignore it. I was later given permission to attach consequences for the kids who don't participate, but I hate to make it that structured. We'll see what happens next week with this student.

Today's topic was fiction. And there was initially some groaning. But all in all the kids followed the writing prompt and had seemed to have fun. I'm going to have to adjust for future classes to hold their attention more and I'm already thinking of how to alter the next class-- poetry. That will be a toughie.

So while today was successful, I think it opened my eyes more to what to expect and how I can better prepare myself for how things will be (and not be.) I lucked out with a big group of good kids this time. I might not be as lucky in the future.

Another thing, I found out today some of the charges against some of the kids there. And now I'm wondering if that's a big deal or not. My purpose for asking why they were in there was to get an idea of how to tailor my subtle teaching-- you know, like inserting occasional references to drugs being stupid, etc. But now I'm not so sure that that will be useful to me. I mean, do I really want to wonder which kid is in for rape? Do I want to know when I look at him/her what he/she has exactly done?

I don't think I do. I think I'd prefer to just keep the attitude of "you messed up, you're here now, let's get you educated so you can make better choices." I don't want to somehow hold what they've done against them. So while the writer in me is intensely curious, the kindness in me will win out. I'll treat them all the same.

So another class down and I will admit that I needed today's lesson from the kids more than they needed my ideas on fiction.

I survived

4 children, under 3, two toddlers, some biting, one toy chain saw, two escaping bunnies, one terrifying tortoise, one demonic poodle, and a princess beauty kit.

Two hours.


I survived. The bite marks should fade within a few days and the goose egg will fade within a week, tops. The poodle will soon be let out his banishment; the bunnies are locked up tight; the tortoise is outside. I didn't lose much hair. And the toddler should take a good nap.

And me too.

Not a good idea

to take your 9 year-old daughter into the dressing room with you while you are trying on pairs of jeans even though you are feeling rather bloated.

It does not help your self-esteem.

And you most likely won't but the jeans anyways.

Because I can't seem to learn and

because I was busy on the internet and on the phone and texting my brother (yes, all at the same time) and because the toddler got out three tubes of my lotion, an empty plastic bowl, and a comb and put them all together, and because I didn't catch it until he was stirring....


I will put my lotion bottles up high until the toddler outgrows this face or leaves home for college (which ever comes first).


just right after I finish this post.....

What could POSSIBLY be any better than .....

super deals on school supplies?? (wah, that I missed because I was trying to be good)

CLEARANCE SCHOOL SUPPLIES!!!!

bwuah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

a pack of 4 spiral notebooks for 15 cents! hee, hee, hee, hee, hee!

filler notebook paper for 18 cents! whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!

washable markers for 44 cents! uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-huh-uh!

1,500 sheets of paper, 32 spiral notebooks, 16 markers all for $5.07

ooh-oooh-oooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh! (head tipped back & howling!)

Ah. What else could even possibly give me such joy! And the hubby can't even complain about this because I used my own money!

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la! It's smurferific!

Missing:

one sweaty maroon sports bra; last seen on the head of household toddler; please contact me if you have seen it.

Thank you.

Random Thoughts

-Riding a bike into a 15-mile-an-hour head wind while towing a 25 pound toddler in a trailer is like trying to ski downhill with a parachute on. Well, at least I'm guessing. I've never actually been skiing. I think I got extra workout points for riding with him. Oy!

-I missed my Mary Englebreit Fall collection cards at Michael's. I swear they went right from summer to Christmas. I have a hard time believing that they actually sold out all their Fall cards in the past 2 weeks. I always buy her cards at Michael's! I can't start sending out Christmas cards in September! That's ridiculous! Sigh. I guess I'll just keep using the summer cards and hope no one really notices!

-It's about to storm here. I mean, like really storm. That's why I spent the morning feverishly getting my errands done. I was tired of shopping after the 20-minute-wait-for-the-prescription-to-be-filled lapse at Costco. And Costco was only my second errand. I had 4 more left.

-And speaking of Costco.... you know those people who walk around with their little scanning guns and ask for your card before you give it to the cashier. I hate them!!! Grrrr. When I see them wandering around the checkstand I picked, I hold onto my card until the cashier asks for it. Today the lady with the gun said "Can I see your card?" And I replied in my sorta-nice-snippish-tone-as-if-I'm-trying-to-make-a-joke-out-of-this-but-I'm-still-peeved tone: "You don't need to scan my card. I have signed up for everything that Costco sells. There is no program that I haven't joined." I tell you, her eyes widened a bit. She flipped my card over (I had put it directly onto the register) and commented that I was an executive member. I nodded and said that I also had the American Express card (still a bit snippish, but nice-- so don't worry, Mom!). Then she said "so you're getting all the benefits." "Yes, but they aren't as good as promised." Curt smile. She walked away pretty quickly after that. Maybe it wasn't worth it, but I don't want to be harassed by someone at the checkstand. I just want them to ask if I found everything okay and then watch as they pass over my reusable shopping bags and put them back into the cart. Empty. Ah, Costco.

-A bit of advice-- if you are remodeling your kitchen and half of your old cupboards are gone and most of your food is either downstairs or in the far back corner of a huge cupboard, then DON'T try a new recipe for Sunday dinner. Cuz guess what? Your paprika will be downstairs because you didn't think you'd need paprika anytime soon. Oh, and the vinegar, and the chili powder, and the brown sugar. Just stick to the old favorites. No new recipes. Besides your family probably won't like them anyways. Mine didn't. Ah, such is life.

-The foster bunnies are doing well. They are in the old raccoon proof chicken cage. So they have room to run around and yet they are safe. And sometimes we take them out, but one of them is bent on escaping and scares us almost everytime. (shaking head). They are good.

-One day I do believe (hope) that either my dog or my toddler will figure out how to run when they see the other one coming. Until then we get lots of growling (and giggling over the growling) and lots of frustrated parents. Seriously, one of their brains has got to be larger! When will one of them figure out how to leave the other alone. Really it's just the toddler who likes to terrorize the dog and he won't run for his life.

-The rain has started. Soooo glad that I am inside! If I were ambitious, I'd make bread.

But I'm not ambitious. I'm tired.

Remodel Update

Another Saturday, another chance to destroy parts of our house. Today's demolition: wall cabinets. Sure does make the space open up, eh?

We took down the wall cabinets so we can repair the walls behind them. If all goes well (ha-ha-ha!), we might have new cabinets two weeks from today. Which means next week we pull out the base cabinets so that we can tear up the floor and have it tiled.

Which means my life for the next three weeks will be crazy.

And I'm already tired of fast food. Blah!

p.s. the ceiling is officially done-- we put on the edgings on the can lights tonight. Can't think of the real name-- you know, those bordery things? Yeah, we have them now.

A Right of Passage

Sigh, it's true. I've reached that stage in everyone's life when we start setting aside our favorite clothes to wear "if/when we've lost some weight." Sigh.

Body Wars

Thanks to a free subscription to a magazine and the leftover ones from my sister, I'm able occasionally flip through current magazines to see what's new and hot and learn 7 new, new, NEW tips to help me clean my bathroom/organize clutter/discipline my children/lose 5 pounds. I also get to check out the ads. And I've been making a little list in my head at normal body functions that are no longer socially desirable. I'd like to share them with you today:

limp hair, frizzy hair, flat hair, dull hair, thin hair, thick hair, undyed hair, unicolor hair, gray hair, thin eyelashes, baggy eyelids, red eyes, bags under eyes, dark circles under eyes, nose hair, boogers, shiny skin, thin lips, pale lips, fading lipstick, facial hair, red spots, acne, uneven skin tone, wrinkles, pores, yellow teeth, uneven teeth, breath that doesn't smell like cool mint, sagging chests, small chests, large chests, moving chests, underarm hair, underarm odor, underarm wetness, too much height, not enough height, dry skin, flaky skin, hair arms, moles, warts, moles with hair, thin nails, brittle nails, short nails, unpainted nails, hangnails, wrinkly hands, flabby underarms, sweat anywhere on the body, poochy bellies, pale bellies, overlapping bellies, stretch marks, uneven skin tone, cellulite, flabby thighs, curved thighs, hair "down there," panty odor, panty lines, lumpy buns, big buns, wiggly buns, hairy legs, pale legs, unevenly tanned legs, foot odor, cracked toenails, thin toenails, discolored toenails.....

I'm sure I'm forgetting some-- after all, I don't actually read fashion magazine which pretty much just attack any part of the body that doesn't look like a 13 year old girl with breast implants.

Hmmm, can you see why it's so hard to be a woman? There's not a single body function that we normally have that is "socially acceptable." Everything is bad or "embarassing!" Oy! Blush here. It's not enough to be healthy, we have to be perfect!

Man, no wonder I am struggling with my whole body concept now that I'm hitting the middle age mark and my body is going through some "changes." My self-confidence is really taking a hit. Of course, I can't just say "I'm feeling fat/ugly/unhealthy" because of the backlash from others who feel like I'm closer to the perfect ideal than they are, but it's still an issue with me. I don't want to be at war with my body for the rest of my life. I also don't want to just give up and let myself go. I want to be okay-- truly OKAY!!-- with myself and know that I am healthy and strong.

But that is a tough call in a society where we are expected to be and constantly bombarded with how to be perfectly made up. No wonder plastic surgery is on the rise. We are all striving for an ideal that only exists after airbrushing and Photoshopping!

So at least for today, will you try to be happy with your body? Try to find three or four good things that you really appreciate about yourself and think about them. I will. I'll even share them with you--

-moveable fingers that let me type/write/draw/tickle my kids
-arms that are strong enough to carry my toddler, lift groceries, and hold a book so I can read it
-legs that let me run and walk and play
-a brain that let's me realize that society's beauty myth is just that; plus, it's a poor joke.

Have a happy, healthy day

Writing Class number 2

Today's class went fabulously! We all had a good time. The teens seemed way more comfortable with me and I know I felt more of myself. We ended up actually going over time because so many of them wanted to share what they had written. There were a handful of guys who just didn't do the assignment, but I would think that they'll do it for next time.

Each time I drive to the juvenile detention center I say a prayer in my heart that I'll be inspired as to what I say and do with the kids. Today was no different. As I prayed, a thought came into my head. After we reviewed the syllabus I passed out, I had them do "Homework Assignment #1, part 2." Their first assignment from last week was to write their autobiography. Today I had them write what they wanted to write in 10 years. "Pretend that you are now 10 years older, and I've asked you to write your autobiography of what has happened in the last 10 years. What do you want to have done?" When they finally grasped the concept of what I was trying to say, they started writing. Of course, I wrote my own list and shared it first. And then some of the teens shared theirs. And then I got a bit preachy-- you have to make the right choices to make these things happen. They won't just happen to you. I asked how many of them said they wanted to become addicted to drugs and end up in prison. They laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. But it did get them to think.

Once we were done with the autobiographies, I had only about 20 minutes to talk about today's lesson: journaling. I brought along three of my old journals: one from age 10, one from age 15, and one from the semester when I ended up in the abusive relationship. I read bits and pieces to them and we all laughed. It was a lot of fun to laugh at myself with them.

Today was definitely a day when we connected. I'm so glad! I left feeling like I was on cloud nine! I can't wait to go back. Next week we start fiction. That will be very interesting-- not as interesting as poetry, but still interesting!

Oh Happy Day!

I've been following Paul Cardall's blog as he has waited for a heart transplant. And today the long awaited post was given: he received a new heart today! He was so close to death. It is such a miracle. I've been praying so hard for him and his little family.

Miracles do come true because there IS a loving God in heaven who delights in blessing his children.

Paul's blog

I think I got it!

This occurred to me a few moments ago. I'm trying to get out of abuse and into something different-- like writing. I don't want to abuse anymore and yet here I am with someone trying to pigeon-holed back into the abuse field.

Heck no, I won't go!

But yet I know I have a message that needs to be shared. Sigh. Maybe I can just give them my book, and that would be enough. Right? And then I don't have to keep repeating myself over and over and over and over.....

Double Sigh. But it is a relief to have figured out why I'm so unsettled.

Just checking out the song selection

Frankie, looking over the selection of radio stations on Pandora. With the other eye he was checking me out! Love this bird! He sometimes sends IM messages to my hubby when we've been chatting. Not exactly sure what he's trying to say, but he tries anyway.

Who's Evolved?

Larry: [looks up at Dexter, the monkey] Hey, Dex, so, look. No hard feelings, all right?
Teddy Roosevelt: [Dexter slaps Larry in the forehead and Larry raises his clipboard to hit him] Lawrence!
Larry: You saw - you saw what he did just then...
Teddy Roosevelt: [interrupting him] Who's evolved?
Larry: I am.
Teddy Roosevelt: Who's evolved?
Larry: I am.

This is one of my favorite scenes from the movie "The Night at the Museum." I happen to use it a lot with parenting too. When my son tries to engage me in a battle of wills or my toddler tries to be purposely defiant and I find myself fighting back, I try to stop and ask myself "Who's evolved here, Sarah? Who's evolved?"

President G W Bush had a good philosophy that works well when raising strong-willed children:
We do not negotiate with terrorists.

Just sharing a bit of wisdom that I had to remind myself of this morning during breakfast.

Last Night's Experience

Last night was my first night talking with the girls at the juvenile detention center. Beforehand, I was really excited about it, and, perhaps because my expectations were so high, I ended up feeling disappointed by the whole thing.

It went well. The girls were engaged and attentive. I spent an hour there instead of the half hour the manager suggested. And someone was even expecting me to come! But I still left feeling frustrated, even though I'm sure the girls learned something (whether or not they apply it is a different story).

I spent the whole time rehashing the abuse I went through as a 19 year old. It's the first time in over three years that I've talked about it at any great length. And now I remember why I quit-- I'm tired of talking about it. I don't want to feel like the only thing I have to offer is a horrifying story of being beaten. I don't want to have to recount every amazingly gruesome detail so that they get a sense of what happened. The story, frankly, is boring to me.

I love the writing classes because I feel I can offer some talent or skill that is unique and completely unrelated to abuse. I'm not there because I was abused or because I'm a "survivor." BTW, I hate the label "survivor" for the simple reason that it limits your existence to the single event that you survived. My life is larger than the abuse I endured, thank you very much. So I don't use that term. Ever.

So the manager of the Tuesday night classes was thrilled that I came and would love for me to come every week. I told her I'd get back to her. Though maybe I said 'yes.' (I wouldn't put it passed me-- you know of my weakness for the word!) I need to rethink this whole Tuesday night thing. I want to be of service to the girls. I want to help them, but I'm not willing to put myself on stage every time I go by recounting the same story over and over and over and over and over and over..... No thank you.

I'm guessing my feeling of dissatisfaction has to do with thinking I got myself sucked into a commitment that I don't want now. But I'm not committed and I'm not stuck with what I do or don't do. I can change it. It's just hard to feel like...... well, let's just leave it at the idea that I think the whole thing rather stinks.

As excited as I was about the writing classes (before and after the class) that's how unexcited I am about the Tuesday nights. Time for a change. Or a bowing out and sticking to the writing.

a Proud American (mom) Moment

I walked into my toddler's room twenty minutes ago with the intent to changing his poopy diaper, but quickly got distracted listening to the local radio talk show host take calls on President Obama's speech. Usually when I go into his room, my toddler will follow me in, but today he was a little busy pulling lotion bottles out of my bathroom cupboard (which he's done a lot lately). I laid down on his bed and listened with great pride to a caller talk about how we are all Americans, regardless of our political affliations.

"Amen," I said out loud a few times, barely noticing my toddler carrying lotion bottles into the kitchen. (cue ominous music)

After laying on the bed for 8 minutes, the phone rang and I jumped up to get it. As I walked into the living room to grab the cordless phone, I noticed a distinct smell-- something similiar to my "Cool Citrus Basil" lotion from Bath & Body Works.

There it was-- half the bottle all over the kitchen floor with fingerprint tracks through it.

I tried to act like a professional with my colleague on the phone, discussing legislative action and important actions of our dating violence committee, while bending over and wiping up the slickery mess. Just as I was grabbing some paper towels, the toddler walked through the puddle of lotion, lost his balance, and fell onto his bum. Even though his hands were too greasy to push himself up, he kept trying to stand, but falling back down after every attempt. By the time I reached him he had basically coated himself in lotion.

I lifted the lotion boy to the table and wiped him off before continuing to clean up the mess down the hall. And of course, he was crying loudly at this point. And I was still trying to speak professionally. And then the dog started doing his little potty dance and barking madly at me.

Oy. A toddler with a lotion bottle is no longer a good thing in our home.

Neither is a toddler with a full container of petroleum jelly.

Proud moments in the life of an American mom!

BTW, I did finish my phone call. My colleague has called me enough times to know that my life is often crazy. But he did start by asking if it was a good time to talk.

And of course, I said "yes." Because I'm still trying to perfect the art of saying "no."

Polarized Thinking

I'm getting ready to listen to President Obama's speech to school kids of America. I am allowing my kids to watch/listen at school. I have NO fears or concerns or worries that he's going to try to brainwash them with socialist agendas or indoctrination. That is a joke to me. I honestly don't understand the paranoia-- and the tears, in some cases-- of people regarding this (perhaps to much drinking of the ultra-right wing conservative talk show hosts).

I am concerned that so many Americans are so polarized in their thinking. What happened to trying to find middle ground? What happened to trying to find something nice about people? Why must we always assume the worst and nastiest about people-- especially if we disagree with what they have to say or what they stand for.

What's so insidious about staying in school to benefit your life and your country? What's so "evil" about responsibility and parental support?

I have yet to find anything evil in this speech.... perhaps you must play it backwards during a full moon at midnight to find the real danger! ;o) (eyes rolling).

Can we all just play nice? That's my message for today.

Play nice.

15 Quarts of Peaches

I managed to bottle 15 quarts today! It was hot, sticky work, and I'm glad it's done.

I was admiring my freshly-sealed bottles and then my sis-in-law noticed something brown....


Drat! A stowaway!

Blah! EEWWWW!!! Gross! Disgusting! Not sure what we'll do with this bottle....

Hobbies and other ways to have fun while dressing up like Darth Vader

Last month my little family and I went to a kids carnival in Salt Lake. Much to my son's amazement and breath-stopping, heart-pounding thrill, Darth Vader was there. We had to pay the exorbitant $5 fee for the chance for my son to stand in front of a sheet for 2.735 minutes with Darth Vader, a storm trooper, Ventress, and an Imperial Commander (are you impressed with my knowledge of Star Wars? You should be. I am FULL of useless Star Wars information!). These are people who dress up regularly in full costume and show up at public events to entertain and amuse children. (and charge $5 a picture, but not that I'm bitter).

The thing is I think it's the Star Wars guys who get the most joy out of the experience. They are like big kids who never grew up. If you go to their website you can see all the characters, current and "retired," who are in this association. There are well over a hundred. The lady who plays Ventress (an evil Sith Lord from the Clone Wars saga) actually shaves her head. Seriously! She shaves her head to play Ventress. What a woman! It's impressive, with a hefty side of unusual. I mean, these guys have a serious (and expensive)hobby.

That's got me thinking about hobbies. You know? Hobbies-- like fun things you do in your life for personal enrichment and uh, fun. The key word there is FUN. The few times my hubby has had a deep life struggle he's been told by several different (not related in the slightest) that he needs a hobby. That of course isn't what he'd like to hear. Fast forward all these years and he's still hobbyless. And probably embarassed that I just announced that. I suppose you could make a weak argument that schooling is his hobby but you'd probably find it very weak seeing as how it's NOT fun and you might actually wonder about his sanity. It's okay, we all have.

Anyways, I digress. So I've been thinking of hobbies. What are my hobbies, I've wondered. What do I spend the most time doing? Cleaning. Dishes, laundry, toys, diapers. That is what I spend the most time doing. But it's not FUN so they don't count. Some could say that my animals are my hobbies, but they are not hobbies. They are pets. And I only have 6 now which isn't too many so leave me alone! ;o) Reading could be counted as a hobby. I love reading. I read all the time. But it's more of a necessity really. When I'm not reading I go crazy. All agitated and grumpy. So I need to read. Like food for my brain.

Do I have a hobby that is FUN? I have lots of volunteer opportunities. Are those hobbies? Saving the world could be a hobby..... but it's not fun. It's work. It's "personal enrichment." Writing's not a hobby since I don't do much outside of this blog. I should, but I don't. One day I will. I dropped out yoga because I got tired of trying to realign my karma. It wants to be out of whack. And I don't have any group activities like Bunco or peanuchle or bingo.

So I've haven't answered that question sufficiently. I suppose it's because I look at what other people's hobbies are-- softball, bowling, gardening, dressing up like Darth Vader, to name a few. I just can't think of anything that fits in that category for me. So now I'm as hobbyless as my hubby. Drat. Does that mean you'll question my sanity too? But I do have fun sometimes. So don't worry too much about me.

Unless I start shaving my head and carrying a lifelike red Lightsaber. (See, I knew her Lightsaber was red as opposed to Obi Wan's blue one or Luke's green one. So impressive the amount of Star Wars info my brain contains. Go ahead. Be impressed. And ask me why Chancellor Palapatine who was parading as the Dark Sith Lord had Count Dooku bumped off so he could get a new Sith apprentice.)

Class #1

This morning did not go well. The hubby's alarm went off at 5:30 am, but he had fallen asleep on the toddler's bed some time in the middle of the night. I got to shut off the alarm and then wake up the hubby. And I ended up wide awake. Grrrrr. I finally started to fall asleep some time after 6 am. Then my toddler woke up at 6:40 am. I tried to put him back to sleep. It didn't work.

I got my kids up at 7:45 am and instantly my son decided to throw a fit because I asked him to put on a different pair of pants. He kicked the wall, he slammed his door, he threw a fit, he yelled that he hated me. It was a beaut. And he missed breakfast. Bummer. I was going to drag his whining body to school if I had to.

I didn't. He got over the fit about 2 minutes before we left. Drat. I had kinda been looking forward to forcing him to go to school.

I dropped off the kids. I came home and put the toddler down for a nap. He fought it for 10 minutes and then gave in. By 9:30 am I was free to get ready.

It took 30 minutes for me to get completely ready (I had to put on makeup so that took a bit longer and I kept IMing my hubby in between everything). I put all my things for my class in the car, got the toddler's bag ready, and then woke him up.

He was not happy when I left him at his aunt's house. He started crying when I pulled into the driveway. Never a good sign. I left him bawling and drove to the juvenile detention center.

I got there 4 minutes to 11 am. I took my box of notebooks and pushed the button to be let in:
"I'm Sarah, the writing volunteer at 11 am."

A pause.

"Who?"

"I'm teaching writing in the ___ pod. So-and-so knows about it."

A pause.

"Where?"

Finally, I got let in. The front desk clerk grilled me again. She said what I had begun to expect: No one there knew I was coming. No one.

Director? out of town. Pod manager? gone, return time unknown. The kids I was supposed to be teaching were getting ready for gym.

The front desk lady finally consented to let me in, even though she couldn't find anyone on the phone who knew I was coming. No one was expecting me and she had only heard about me in passing.

I went back to the pod and reexplained to the staff there what I was doing. They were gracious and adjusted their plans.

A lot of what happens has to be confidential so I can't say a lot more. There were just under 20 kids there. They were great! We had a good time. I loved being there and can't wait to go back. We have 6 weeks to go with this program and then I think I'll just start it all over again. Some of the kids were so anxious to write things down. The first assignment is for them to write their autobiography. I told them that whatever I asked them to do, I would do myself. So that's my homework assignment too. I'm excited to write it and then read it to the class.

I suspect there will be a lot of changes in the classes-- kids in and out of the system. That's why I need to buy more composition notebooks. I'm waiting for another markdown to be given at Target. Then I can stock up again!

I'm thrilled I did it. Now I just need to do 6 loads of laundry, can 6 half-pints of salsa, pick grapes, clean my house, wrestle the toddler down for a nap, supervise homework, etc. Just another day in my life!

Getting Ready for my First Writing Class

Notebooks? check
Pencils? check
Example book? check
Hair done? check
Babysitting arranged? check
Syllabus? check
Permission to enter facility? check
Clothes on? Makeup on? Legs shaved? check, check, check
Not wearing anything that could used as a weapon against me? check

I think I'm ready to go. Almost.

Chivalry

Chivalry: (noun)- 1. the ability of a husband to answer or return any phone calls for his wife who does not want to do it, even if he himself does not want to do it. 2. and the ability to not laugh too hard when the person on the other end wants to talk to the wife anyways.

drat.

Yesterday

So yesterday went just about like this:
-woke up with a headache at 6:45 am
-laid in bed till 7:30 am when toddler got up
-woke kids up
-supervised kids eating breakfast
-checked email, family website, Blogger, Facebook
-ate breakfast
-shut off sprinklers in backyard
-fed tortoise breakfast
-took tortoise outside
-got kids to school
-read half of a book
-read the newspaper
-let the dog out
-rocked my toddler
-let the dog in
-chatted on IM with my hubby
-watched a powerful video clip, put it on Facebook
-cleaned off counters in laundry room
-pulled together box of things to take when I volunteer at the juvenile detention center of Thursday
-did a load of laundry
-set up sewing table in food storage room
-checked Facebook and email again
-made a blog post
-sent a couple emails
-found a long lost friend on Facebook
-spoke to volunteer coordinator on the phone
-ignored newspaper agency's phone call
-talked to neighbor on phone
-listened to book on tape while putting toddler to sleep
-read both blogs of a sick musician and a burn victim
-did another load of laundry
-painted a new family home evening chart
-took a shower
-got dressed (in real clothes)
-cleaned up mess toddler made
-started making salsa for a sick neighbor
-styled hair (used curling iron!)
-started making bread for recently widowed neighbor
-felt bored and restless, wished I were doing something different
-rocked toddler and read him a book
-checked email
-fed toddler a hot dog
-finally ate lunch (2 pm)
-cleaned ketchup off toddler and table
-shaved legs
-checked Facebook
-let dog out
-searched through my old blog posts
-let dog in
-washed big dishes by hand
-took out the kitchen trash
-finished making bread dough
-fed tortoise
-put bread in the oven
-finished the early chapter book I started this morning
-greeted kids when they got home from school
-made them empty their backpack and recycle useless papers
-watched them eat a snack
-supervised their homework
-took freshly baked bread to neighbor
-unloaded dishwasher
-loaded dishwasher
-washed sink
-thought about what to make for dinner, couldn't come up with anything
-put salsa into fridge
-checked email
-put makeup on
-started reading another book
-went to back to school night for 1st grader
-came home, ate grapes
-made hubby return phone call but ended up having to talk too
-went to back to school night for 4th grader
-talked with another teacher
-came home, put on pjs
-checked email & Blogger
-forced myself to eat dinner
-chatted with hubby
-cleaned kitchen
-checked Facebook
-wrestled pjs onto the toddler
-helped hubby get toddler to bed
-got ready for bed
-talked with daughter before she went to bed
-read
-went to bed-- lights out before 10 pm! What a great day


This is a fairly normal day for me. Not too many frills and thrills; nothing at all fancy. To me this just what I do during the day (though thankfully I rarely have to make bread for recently widowed neighbors). It doesn't seem too much or too hard (did seem rather boring). So maybe you think this is a normal day or maybe you think it's a "supermom" day. Here's where my point comes in-- lately I've been called "supermom" a bit more than I like (OK, once is more than enough!). So when I get that label (cue gagging sounds and eye rolling), I totally brush it off. There's no such thing. All moms are super. Duh! (had to add that in).

Moms are too hard on themselves and often use other moms as a weapon against themselves: "you're such a supermom and I'm such a worthless flake and your life proves that" and so forth. Why do we do this??? We moms all do the best we can each day-- whatever we are able to do. Your day is your day; mine is mine. Is that otay? It is for me. I certainly don't expect you to live your day like mine, and I'd prefer to not follow your agenda, nothing personal.

Seems like everything else I could add about "living up to your own potential" seems too trite and obnoxious-- just what you would expect (and brush off). So I'll just end with this:

Can we just play nice? And be nice to ourselves??


p.s. if you wrote down everything you did in one day, it would be a long list too!

Paying it Forward

I'm not feeling so funny today, but I am feeling nostalgic (sort of). I want to share a story with you -- in between pacifying my bored & tired toddler.

When I was 11 3/4, my family moved from a tiny town in New Mexico to the Los Angeles valley. Oh, I was so lost! It was such a tough time for all of us. The first day of church and school, I bawled the whole time. I was such a mess.

At my church, the young women are divided up into age groups and have cutesy names. When I turned 12, I joined the "Beehive" group. I felt awkward, out of place, and completely out of sorts. The other girls had grown up together and had been friends for years. It was tough.

One of the "Laurels", from the 16 to 17 year old class, was this beautiful, long-haired girl named Darla. She was funny, totally popular, and so kind. She went out of her way to be nice to me and make me feel important. Her attention became drops of water on my parched emotional ground. I loved to be around her every Sunday and decided one day when I was a Laurel, I would be just like Darla.

Even though I moved after two years, I never forgot Darla and her example. When I turned 16, I made good on my promise and went out of my way to love and appreciate the tender Beehives at church. There were Beehives who were loved more because of Darla's kindness for me.

Now fast forward almost 20 years. After much debate, I finally joined Facebook. One of my junior high friends (a fellow Beehive) Mary Ellen suggested some friends from that group for me. One of them was Darla. I was sorting through friend requests when I came upon a message in my inbox: "Hi! I don't know if you remember me, but this is Darla!"

Not remember??!?? Are you kidding?! I wrote Darla back instantly. Finally I got to tell her how her love changed my life. It has started a sweet friendship that I never would have expected. Through our emails, it came to light that she & her parents had been struggling since four of her nieces are being abused and was at a loss of what to do.

And I got to help her. Something I uniquely could give. It wasn't so much paying her back as it was "returning the favor." It has further deepened the love and appreciation I have her. One of her emails, and I don't think she'll mind me sharing this, said "it's so important to be kind to people. Can you imagine what the world would be like if everyone was kind?"

One person's kindness to 12 year old me (21 years ago) has helped change the way I treat other people. You just never know what your kindness will do for someone. You just never know when your paths will cross again. No matter what life gives to you, you always have the choice to be kind.

I hope you make that choice. Be kind! ;o)