New Year's Resolutions

I never make any formally, because I know the best of intentions tend to go awry, and I have a bad habit of feeling guilty for not following through, thanks to years of mom's voice echoing inside my head.

I usually have a few things, though, that I'd like to change or improve. Not a comprehensive list, nor a mandate. Just some rough guidelines, maybe.

I'd like to learn to play the keyboard. Got one for Christmas. Lots of cool features, including a self-tutorial. Fun already, even without beginner keyboard books. Kids love it, too.

Less procrastination. I haven't been officially diagnosed with ADD, though I'm probably borderline. That, coupled with my introversion and needing 100% peace and quiet, I tend to put off stuff because I can't concentrate. Then I waste time doing mindless stuff, like websurfing the same websites, even though they haven't changed, and aren't going to change, at least not for the next 24 hours. But they *might*. So I check. Just in case. I'd like to funnel that energy into something more productive.

Eat healthier. No specific diet. At my age, I know what foods agree with me, and which ones don't. Eat more of the good stuff, less of the bad. Not too hard.

Exercise more. I was exercising faithfully until I took the job from hell. Now I'm just plain unmotivated. But my brother and I made an informal pact: exercise more come Jan. 2. No sense starting on New Year's Day because of all of the goodies dumped on us by the relatives.

Write more. Focus on finishing novel #2. Start novel #3. See if #1 remotely is salable. Work on the hook. Beta readers welcome.

Spend more time with my kids. Yes, even being with them nearly 24/7, we get immersed into our own projects and don't spend as much time together as I'd like. We've all agreed to have more game nights, story nights (even though they're perfectly capable of reading themselves), and movie nights. American Idol is about to start up again, and we had a blast last season watching it all unfold. Of course, the fact that we ran into the contestants at the Hollywood Bowl last year on our trip to California got us interested.

Breathe. Travel. Looks like we'll be taking out the pop-up camper again this year, as we continue to look for the ideal motorhome in anticipation of my early retirement and a year-long trip or more around the USA and Canada.

Happy New Year to you all!

End of the Year

This weekend, I've had a lot of time to reflect on the insane year we've had, both the good times and the bad. I was able to totally clean out two filing cabinets, two desks, shelves, sock drawers, and tupperware, all to ring in the new year with a cleaner, more organized slate. I find that I'm much more productive when not bogged down by crap, er, stuff, I mean miscellaneous papers, clips, lids, scraps, pencaps, and the like that clutter my world.

I scrubbed a disgusting trash can, threw out bags and bags of trash, and even bought a few snacks to ring in the new year with.

Overall, I'd guess the old year wasn't so bad. Mostly positive things happened, and we had a couple of really great, interesting trips.

Here's to a New Year filled with wonder, joy, and happiness!

And writing. Don't forget the writing. :)

My Dog is Trying to Kill Me!

She's cuter than cute, and it's a good thing, too. Somehow I've survived my son's childhood until now (long story, but he's the first who tried to kill me since the day he was born), but now the dog is trying her darndest to give me a coronary.

A few months ago I was working happily on my computer at work, puppies at my feet (they're 9 months apart). Suddenly, the older pup, Elizabeth, yelps, looks all bug-eyed, and gets drooly. Sure enough, she was chomping on my computer cord (fresh, wet chew marks) and gave herself a zap. I was freaking out, knowing the horror stories of death after such incidents. Fortunately she was fine. Turns out she chewed on the lower voltage part of the cord (between the adapter and the laptop, rather than between the adapter and the wall).

Fast forward to a week ago. I'm rushing around, doing last minute shopping, all three dogs along for the ride (they're always with me). I pull into a gift shop parking lot, right off a main road. Before I can close my door, goofy Elizabeth darts out of the car, makes a beeline behind the police station next door, and keeps running away from me. All I can envision is her running into the road and becoming a street pizza. Fortunately for me, she heard the panic in my voice and froze. My heart was in my throat, that's for sure.

So tonight, I'm working late (end of year stuff, checks to write, bills to pay, that sort of thing). So I decide to feed the dogs, knowing we'll be home after suppertime. Since I don't have any food with me really, I open a few free samples hanging around. One baggie for Elizabeth, one for James, and two for Trixie, because she's bigger. Next thing I know, Elizabeth is lying on her side, trying to get up. At first I think she fell over and is too plump to right herself on the slippery floor. Then I wonder if she's having a seizure. So I grab her to take her into the other room where there was more light, and clack! Out pops a huge chunk of dog food onto the floor. No seizure, she was choking on her kibble!!

First the kid, now the dog. I think they have it in for me. Hmm. Sounds like fodder for a novel...

Martha Stewart, I Ain't!

I dislike baking immensely. Well, except for chocolate chip cookies, which can be very therapeutic (not to mention tasty).

My fiasco started with wanting some cranberry nut bread. And fancy that, you actually need to plan, in advance, to purchase ingredients. Christmas eve and there are no cranberries to be had, anywhere. But wait. What are those? Dried cranberries? They'll have to do. Then finding that the walnuts in my pantry are moldy. Gee, I didn't think they were that old. And then, finding I have no loaf pans.

But what the heck, I can bake it in a cake pan, right? Get the batter into the oven, sans nuts. Two minutes later I see my carefully beaten egg right where I left it, in cup. ACK!

Scrape out the now-warm batter, introduce egg, stir, but by now my baking soda's job is being ruined by my spoon. Oh, well.

It didn't taste too bad, considering. And when the day was done, I glanced at my container of cranberries. I'd actually bought dried cherries.

It's the thought that counts, right?

The Pursuit of Happyness

I got to see this movie over the holiday weekend. I liked it, of course. I'm always rooting for the underdog, and I love a good rags-to-riches story. What struck me, though, was how similar the story line was to my own life, and in some ways brought up some not-so-pleasant memories.

No, I was never as destitute as Chris Gardner. My kids and I have never had to sleep in a public restroom, nor bunk at a shelter. But I, too, have been in debt up to my eyeballs with the IRS and other creditors breathing down my neck. And, like Chris Gardner, I'd do anything in order to better my lot for my kids, and for me. And my ex-husband was about as supportive as a thorn bush.

A year and a half ago I'd reached my bottom. Like Chris, I needed something more. My own business was not supporting me, my kids, and my debt. I'd just left my husband, who was not about to give me child support if he could help it. So I took a full time job working a night shift, three nights a week, 14 hours a night. On top of working 3 full days at my own crumbling business.

And, I discovered, like Chris, that nobody cares about your troubles. They want you to show up, do your job, and that's it. I found out just how little support some friends and family can offer; I also found out that no matter how beaten down and exhausted I was, some friends and family wanted more from me. More work, above and beyond what I was already doing. 80+ hours a week, no day off, plus raising 2 kids. I really related to Chris when, in the movie, his wealthy boss asked him for $5 for a cab (he'd left his wallet in the office), and Chris had only $7 to his name, was sleeping in a shelter, and barely able to feed his son. OUCH! Been there.

My story doesn't have an ending -- yet. I'm now out of debt, have a savings account, and my business is really starting to pick up. And I learned an important lesson: Never give up. Don't let anyone tell you you can't do something. If you want something, go get it. And I am.

Merry Christmas!

I was in a gift shop the other night (last minute shopping, ya know), and there, above the register was a sign I'm sure you've all seen. The 4 Seasons of Santa: 1) You believe in Santa; 2) You don't believe in Santa; 3) You *are* Santa; and 4) You look like Santa.

Well, it's true.

Some of my fondest memories from my own childhood are from Christmastime. From the family gatherings (we fit how many people into that tiny house?), fresh cut Christmas trees and the lingering scent of pine, the lights, candles, and the caroling. Sledding in the woods, ice skating on the pond, complete with a cup of hot chocolate (from the stove, not a powder!) with marshmallows on top.

And now that I'm Santa, I hope my kids are forming some of their fondest memories at this time of year as well. We bake (not from pre-purchased dough); we make hot chocolate on the stove, we have candles, a tree-cutting tradition, and we're working on the music.

As a parent, I find Christmas is so much more magical than it was when I was a kid. I love to see the wonder in my kids eyes, the joy on their faces as they open their gifts. As a kid, I wondered why my mother was the last to open anything. Now I know why. :)

Merry Christmas, everyone. Thanks for stopping by!

Breathe!

I think I'm almost done with Christmas preparations and gift buying. I'll know tomorrow when I sort out my purchases and start to wrap/assemble them. My cards will go out tomorrow (when I have some pics printed at CVS). And if I'm still in a good mood by the afternoon, I may purchase ingredients to make cranberry nut bread! Yum!

Wishing you all a terrific holiday. Thanks for joining me on my blog and reading about my insanity.

Merry Christmas.

I'm an Elf!

I came across this link on another site, and thought it looked cool. So, Happy Holidays, my fellow bloggers and readers! I may be only sporadically posting these next few days, as I'm one of those people who has put off shopping until the last minute. And of course, a few of the things I'm looking for are sold out (temporarily, that is) and I refuse to pay triple for something that will miraculously reappear the week after Christmas.

Stop the Presses!

Well, not really. I was sitting at my desk this morning, a little bored, poking around the internet. None of the sites I read had been updated in a while, and it's going to be after New Years before Miss Snark ever gets to my hook. I'm sure I know what she's going to say after reading it (based on her current comments). And that's okay. It was a first novel. My second novel is better written, though trying to come up with a hook when you have 4 storylines intertwined, where more of the story is personal growth, and oh, yeah, somewhere in the hospital a harmless prank turns deadly, and escalates. I can't seem to finish it, mostly because it's a character driven novel without a plot. Bummer. I love it, and the characters, but I'm not sure I can pull it off.

So, today I'm sitting here, and BAM! A HOOK hits me out of thin air. The plot for my next novel. Forget having characters possess my brain (like the last two books) and demand I tell their stories. This one appeared as a plot. Now I have to figure out who it stars, and how can I convince them to cooperate with me. ;)

Yippee! I have a new project! So why does that nagging voice in my head keep telling me to finish what I've started with the other two?? That voice has got to go.

Buzz is Reading!

Buzz has been on a mission to read these past few months. Apparently, reading words here and there wasn't enough. He can figure most things out; he's been writing online on Neopets and regularly sends e-mails to me and his dad.

Last night he brought me a book and proceeded to read all of the captions without problems, including words such as hazardous, construction, alligator, toilet, and apology. I was impressed, and I think he impressed himself.

Such power a kid has when they have the knowledge that they, themselves, learned how to read, on their own!

Sure, he didn't learn to read in a vacuum. We read to him, he's surrounded by words, he asks tons of questions, and lately has been asking lots of 'how do you spell' questions in order to compose his e-mails. Basically, he learned because he had a desire to, and a need to. Kids want to figure out the world around them. And, they do!

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas!

Continuing in our family tradition since the birth of Lotus in 1994, we trekked to the Christmas tree farm, saw in hand, to choose--and chop--our tree. Last year, the first year in our new home with the 10-ft ceiling in the family room, we chose a 9 ft tall tree. Beautiful, though very difficult to drag, even more difficult to set up (never mind the scraping of paint off the walls and trim!) and impossible to dispose of. And yes, we're still finding needles from that tree!

This year, in anticipation of yet another move (once again post-poned indefinitely), we chose a small, yet perfectly shaped tree. What I like best about it is that I can carry it in one hand and maneuver it just fine. Much better!

Buzz and Lotus had the honors of decorating it. Here it is today, in all its glory. Oscar thinks it's just fine.

Scattered

In preparing myself to attempt to enter the world of publishing, I've been having trouble focusing on my writing. In other words, I haven't yet finished that second novel I set out to finish a few months ago. I love the story. I love the characters. I love their emotional journeys. But what I don't really have is a unifying theme, or a real plot (well, not really. Maybe I do if I could figure out how to end it).

Okay, so I'll set that one aside for the moment and fiddle with the first one, once again. Dive into the action. Cut out useless narrative. Tighten, tighten, tighten. And just when I think I've got it, I read and reread, and--all of a sudden I hate it, my sentences stink, and I'm left wondering, who the heck do I think I am, thinking I can write a novel and be published? Who the hell am I kidding?

Does every writer go through this? A recent test by my peers left me in the shredder. But I'm going to be shredded sooner or later, so why not now?

Sigh. I guess I need some Beta Readers. Any volunteers from the masses?

Learning All the Time

Lotus has been focused on Neopets for the last several months, working at it nearly every waking hour. Well, when she's not riding horses or playing with the dogs, or making clay sculptures, Christmas cards (hand-made), baking Christmas sugar cookies, and playing tag with the neighbors, that is.

Unlimited computer time? You bet. Am I worried? Absolutely not. I can see what Lotus is doing every day (our computers sit less than 5 feet apart), but I recently made my own Neopets account so that I could see the full effect. Not only is she writing html code (my eyes glaze over at the first <, LOL), she's making banners in Paint, adding lettering, and making them into clickable links. She's changing fonts and colors and backgrounds and adding music, all with writing the correct codes. She's brave and tries things without knowing exactly what is going to happen. It's so cool to watch her.

Besides html, she's learning to write coherently, her spelling is excellent, between her shops and auctions and games, there's tons of math to be had, geography as she meets girls from as far away as Latvia, England, Australia, etc. These also lead to discussions of time zones, hemisphere, seasons, and the like.

Buzz spends a lot of time on Neopets as well, though he's not yet into the coding. He's primarily working on his spelling and writing as he composes e-mails, and math as he sets up shops, purchases items, and wins points. All good.

Recent conversations have included boiling points, freezing points (thanks to making Jello and having some cold weather), tiger moths, metamorphosis, in addition to cultural references thanks to the plethora of Christmas tunes on the radio (Bing Crosby, Elvis, etc).

My head is spinning here and I've barely touched the surface of things going on here. Learning happens all the time, whether I want it to or not. ;) And the best part? My kids don't even think of it as learning. They're just having fun. :)

Christmas Season Woes

Yes, I'm a mom of two, and I can hear many of you out there bemoaning the nation of consumers we've become and how kids at this time of year have a bad case of the 'gimmes.'

I seem to have the opposite problem. Lotus had only two (yes, 2!) items on her Christmas list. I asked for other ideas, and she says, "Really, Mom, I don't need anything else." Uh, what planet are you from, kid? How am I supposed to buy you Christmas presents?? She's also 12, in that 'tween stage, between childhood and teenager status. Most toys are a bit young; some teen stuff too old. So now I have to use my imagination to get her some things she'll like.

As for Buzz? He's easy. Between skateboarding, Playstation, and Legos, we've got the bases covered.

But truly, I'm stumped. But it does show one thing: If you meet your childs needs (and by that I mean more than just the basic needs) but really listen to them, trust them, and respect them, and give them the freedom to be who they are, they're not needy. Intriguing.

'Tis the Season for Life's Cliches

If you've already hit the stores for Christmas shopping, I'm sure you can relate. Not only do we have the parking lot wars (who will get that vacated space?), the shopping cart wars (who can race to grab the last cart in the store?), to the usual crowds, searching for gifts and finding your items already sold out. And you weren't even looking for one of the oh-so-hot items.

Today, in Toys R Us, we happened upon my favorite of all: Price Check in Aisle 3! You know, where the line is moving merrily along and suddenly comes to a complete halt, because an item the customer at the register wants to buy is either a) not priced; b) rings up wrong, or c) the dreaded " but the sign on the shelf said only $14.99!" When you know full well that either the item has dropped back on the wrong shelf by a careless shopper, or the sign belongs to a similar, cheaper item and not the coveted one.

The last one happened to Buzz and me today while trying to purchase one lone gift for a friend. Of course, the customer won't believe that the price does not, in fact, belong to the item she wants, but a cheaper one. After arguing back and forth, the customer going to the shelf and retrieving the sign, explanations to the manager, the customer wants one thing: the thirty-five dollar item for fifteen dollars. That, and only that will appease her.

And you know what? After holding up the line for fifteen minutes, the manager let her have it. The item, I mean, for the price she wanted. The squeaky wheels do get the grease. Even when they're wrong. I'm so glad I don't work retail.

Bob Rivers had it right. The Twelve Pains of Christmas, anyone?

Two Sizes Fits None

My office is in an old leased space which hasn't been updated since the 70s, I'm sure. Over the years, previous tenants have added things of their own--light fixtures, walls, cabinetry, etc., including me.

We decided to have an Open House in order to draw new business, and as I took a look around, I realized that most of the ceiling light fixtures were lacking the plexiglas covers. Not a big deal, I thought, I've seen them in Home Depot.

I did remember from a previous time replacing the covers that there were two different sizes--one for the older style light(of which I have many), and one for the newer style with a hinged, drop down window (of which I have a few). Looking around, I see that 4 of the ones I need are for the older style, and two are for the newer style.

Off I go to Home Depot with Buzz in tow, and we purchase six of the larger, for the older style, and four of the smaller, newer style. Extras, you know? I like to be prepared and not have to drive 14 miles back to the store.

First stop: the hall light. Newer, drop-down style. Piece of cake. Take out the older cracked yellow plexiglas and replace it. Bingo. Perfect fit. This is gonna be easy. So I head up the hall to the other light. Same deal. Open the light, take out the old stuff, put in the new. Easy, right? Wrong. Seems this newer style light has an opening that is just a tad bigger, and the plexiglas is too small. Okay, we'll try a larger one. Nope, that one is 2" in either direction too big. Cut to fit? Nice try, but the stuff cracks, falls to the floor, not gonna happen.

Okay, fine. I'll try the larger plexiglas in the older style lights. Are you kidding me? It's a half-inch too big. So we're back to trying to cut it to fit. Success, I think. But no, gravity has a say and the next thing I know the center folds, and the edges come right out. Cheapie plastic faux plexiglas shatters on the floor. Rinse and repeat. I'm not having any luck and a stream of colorful language spews forth from my lips.

Defeat is imminent. Or is it? Now I remembered why I'd been staring at bare fluorescent bulbs for the past two years. And why two of my lights with plastic in them have tape on them.

But wait. Mom wasn't so naive after all. While in the plexiglas lighting panel aisle, I found white plastic U-shaped holders. For what, I don't know, but I saw that it would be a solution to my lighting problems. Cut a few to fit the fixture, and it extends the lip a few inches to hold my too-small plexiglas. Bingo!

See? I knew watching all of those MacGyver shows with Buzz would come in handy some day.

It Figures

Been busy at work, busy polishing a hook for my novel for an upcoming Crap-O-Meter to see if my novel is ready for prime time. Also spent a bit of time debating the pros of unschooling to the skeptical masses, which was great for my debating skills, great for formulating my ideas into coherent paragraphs, great for writing practice, but bad for taking up my limited writing time. C'est la vie. I love a good mental challenge.

Ever have one of those days where you think the universe is playing jokes on you? Or that maybe you're just psychic? Or maybe my kids are psychic? We're having an open house at my business in a few days, so we've been polishing up the place. The goal is to make potential new clients know we exist, and to hopefully draw them to do business with us. I was talking with one of my assistants about how I needed to lock my office, as it's near the restrooms and I didn't need any uninvited guests poking around back there. I was fiddling with the doorknob and trying out my keys, to make sure I had one.

While I tried key after key, I recounted the story of how a few years back, my kids were playing with the door and locked it. I didn't know where the keys were at that time. A big annoyance, for sure, but Buzz was small, the walls don't go to the top, and there is a dropped ceiling. Perfect! We'd lowered Buzz over the wall and he unlocked the door. Yeah, didn't want that happening again, so once I found the key, I said I'd have to make sure I had the key on me when I locked the door during the open house.

Fast forward a few hours, and my kids come to work. I'm happily seeing clients, making money, keeping busy. I'm handed a stack of messages when I'm through, and I retreat to my office to make some phone calls. Buzz, Lotus, and a friend are all standing there like deer in the headlights. Seems the door is locked. And yes, my keys are in my purse, inside, next to my desk.

I am not a happy camper. No one has touched that doorknob since the prior incident. All three are denying touching the lock. At this point, I don't even have a ladder to even try the over-the-wall route. And Buzz is now three times the size he was years ago. Did I mention we're trying to clean the place for the open house??

I find the ladder and try to hoist Buzz over the wall. Of course, he's 8 and now very melodramatic. Going over the wall isn't going to happen. Where's MacGyver when you need him? An old broom handle, a long-handled Swiffer, a roll of wide bandage tape, and some thick wire bent into a hook, and voila! The purse is retrieved, keys inside, and crisis averted.

So, why did I even mention the locked door incident this morning? Wonder what will happen next. Is it Friday yet?