Blessings of Christmas

For those of you who know our family, you may remember that the last few years have been a bit rough. Needless to say, Christmas, as a result suffered greatly.

Then last year, to add insult to injury we moved cross-country and lived in a rather small apartment, which meant a small tree and limited decorations (what decor I could find that we had packed, anyway!).

To me, this was just miserable. I adore holidays - any cause to celebrate should be thusly celebrated, and Christmas tops the list. I love the lights, the cheer, the food, family and friends, and now that I have children, the wonder that is Christmas. To believe in miracles, in faith, that a fat man in a red suit really will bring presents (oh the presents!) if one is good enough is pure magic. And lacking that, Christmas joy can be hard to come by. It has been hard to come by for the past few years.

This year, however, I tell everyone that we have been blessed. A great new house in a great new neighborhood, secure (for now at least) employment, happier kids, new friends, a second car - it is like a dream. And that is what the blessing has felt like so far -a dream.


For the past few weeks, however, my dream life has become reality. My hubby commented that I have been really, really happy lately (I guess I can be a real downer sometimes), and my son said if that was so, why I have been crying so much. And it is true, I cry at the drop of a hat lately, but I know why. You know the saying "I'm so happy, I could cry"? Well, I am, and I do.

I look at the happiness on the faces of my kids, how they speak to each other nicely, the joy they get from the advent calendar and the holiday movies; I see my hubby take pictures of us Christmas caroling and taking us to see the Christmas lights; I feel the joy of the holidays in my home and I know, I know deep in my heart and soul, that I am truly and undeniably blessed. I pray these blessings carry over into the new year.

I pray that you all may know the blessings I feel this moment.

It was 12 years ago today . . .

My son turns 12 today.

He is now old enough to babysit. I remember him as a little boy who, when left partially to his own defenses one morning while daddy slept, tried to dress himself. He took clothes out of his dirty laundry and put them on over his pajamas, including 3 pairs of dirty underwear.

My son turns 12 today. He is now in middle school. I remember when he was almost three and just learning his ABCs. He woke me at 5 am one morning, his ABC book clutched in one hand, three crayons clutched in the other. In his most excited voice he chanted, "ABC book, Mommy! ABCs!"

My son turns 12 today. He will receive his red/white belt in Tae Kwon Do this evening. I remember the first time he ever took a sports class. He was two years old and had a mixed sports class for 2-3 year olds taught by Coach Bob. He learned to try to shoot baskets, run laps, and run the bases of a baseball diamond, laughing at every turn.

My son turns 12 today. In four years he will be able to drive a car. I remember the little boy who was addicted to his Matchbox race cars. Every day he would line them up in the living room, congested lines of traffic across the carpet, complete with the "VROOM" sound for full effect.

My son turns 12 today. His favorite movies are the likes of X-Men and Spiderman. I remember when he first saw "Toy Story" by Disney. He got his Woody doll for Christmas that year from my sister and that doll never left his side. By the time he retired it, Woody's hair was mostly worn away, four fingers on his left had were broken off, and the push button that mimicked the pull string was gone.

My son turns 12 today. He is working on earning his merit badge for swimming. I remember the summer we scrimped and saved for a summer membership to the local pool. It was a zero depth pool complete with a small frog slide for the kiddies, and he would spend hours going up and down that little water slide, splashing the mornings away.

My son turns 12 today. Now he sleeps up in a loft bed in a room all his own. But I remember when he used to crawl into bed with us. He would either sleep at the foot of the bed like a puppy, or curl up with me, his blankie in hand. I still remember the silky feel of his hair against my cheek and his soft baby smell of shampoo and baby lotion.

My son turns 12 today, and while I am so excited to see him grow into a wonderful young man, I am grateful for the memories of the past 12 years. He may no longer be a baby, but I can still be with my baby boy whenever I need to, if only in my mind. I thank God for those 12 years, and I pray that I may be gifted with another 12 years, then another, then too many to count. I pray that the memories never end.

My son turns 12 today, and I love him more today than the day he was born, and I never thought such a thing was possible.

Happy Birthday, my baby boy.

Do you feel Wicked?

I am still recovering. I have always enjoyed theater, especially musicals, but with three kids and a limited budget, I do not have the opportunity to attend as often as I would like. So when my husband said, "Screw the budget!" we decided to spend $400 and get tickets for the whole family. Pretty good seats, too - lower orchestra, left side. Nice.

Now I must say that I have been changed for the better. The storyline was well conceived, the characters well developed (as a literary type, I really liked the author's ideas of the how and why of certain characters we meet in The Wizard of Oz), the music intoxicating, the singing beyond this world. I knew I would like it; I didn't expect to fall in love with it. It truly deserves all the credit it receives.

However, we didn't really attend because I wanted to see it. We went because last year at this time it was in San Diego at the same time we were, and the girls (age 6 and 8) went ballistic over it. We didn't have the money to even consider going, so the girls received a Wicked cd for Christmas and we called it good. But that wasn't good enough for them. My youngest sang along with that disc all day, and my older daughter made up a dance to "Defying Gravity" (her favorite song). In fact, it was that scene from the TV commercials that first attracted her interest. They LOVED Wicked, and they had not even seen it.

Fast forward one year later, and we learned that Wicked is in its final run at the Pantages Theater in LA. It will be gone next month. So, busting the budget, we go, fight traffic for almost 3 hours to go 60 miles, and arrive in Hollywood, home of the Pantages Theater.

To begin, Sophie was enthralled with Hollywood (she has decided she wants to move there when she is older and become a singing teacher). The girls were dressed to the nines and soaking in the whole theater atmostphere as we arrived. We took our seats and the show started shortly after.

While I went and enjoyed it thoroughly, my reaction was not necessarily the best part of the evening. Two minutes into the musical, she had a relevation, "This is like the Wizard of Oz, isn't it, mommy?" Evidently she had started reading the original book, and finally realized who the "Witches of Oz" were. From that point on she was drawn in. Sophie sat by daddy, so I couldn't see or interact with her well, but Kaya sat by me, and I have never seen ANYONE so entranced in my life. She honestly did not sit in her seat, but perched on the edge the whole time, her hand on the seat in front of her, her face lit with an absolute glow of wonder.

Then came the end of the first act, and she moved forward more (if she could have stood, I think she would have), and the look on her face as Elpheba rose up singing is indescribable. All I can say is that the look on her face made me cry more than the actual musical. Then the lights cut and everyone was clapping and she was no longer sitting, but kind of standing/crouching and when the lights came on she looked at me as though she had just seen an angel from Heaven. When she saw people leaving she asked if we could move closer up if those people don't come back, and I had to laugh back my tears.

Yes, the show is great, but seeing my daughter love it more than I was worth more than the $400 (plus gas, dinner, parking, etc), worth more than anything I could have paid. We don't get to see that type of wonder and excitement in children very often. It is a gift that is more rare and valuable than gold or diamonds, this discovery and wonder in a child, and I got to see it this week. For that, I am truly thankful.

A Happy Halloween

Yes, it was a Happy Halloween for us this year - the kids got to attend parties (one of which we threw and it was awesome!), a fall festival, and go trick -or-treating. They raked in the candy (off which mom and dad get to mooch , yum!) and had bales of fun (pun intended!). But this holiday was more important for a different reason: it is the first "official" holiday in our new home.

As many of you may know, just over a year and a half ago, my hubby experience an unintended job change, which left us having to move to California, but still have a house in the midwest. Between rent and that mortgage, our hopes for a house in CA fell by the wayside, and we were stuck in a less-than-spectacular apartment complex in a not-so-great part of town. Sadness ensued.

However, much to our joy, the housing market totally crashed at about the same time we found a renter for the house in the midwest. While may others lament the crash of the housing market, we danced all the way to the bank, got a great loan at a great rate, and bought a foreclosed house at half price. Time for the Happy Dance!

The house in the midwest was still HOME. But, after three months in the new house, some hardcore cleaning, and getting the kids back in scouts and the like, this new house started to feel more homey. Not quite home yet, but getting there.

It is now Halloween night, and the kids are dressed to the hilt. Seeing them run around the house, plastic trick-or-treat pumpkins in hand, surrounded by the incandescent glow of candles and orange Halloween lights, something happened. With all the excitement and the tradition behind it all, suddenly this strange house became HOME.

Whether you celebrate a particular holiday or not, holidays have something special attached to them: a sense of tradition older than yourself. And when we bring those traditions home to roost, share them with our children, and enjoy the trappings of that brief holiday time, our outsides reflect the joy and celebration of our insides. This house now has memories - ones that I will keep, that my children will keep, and one day, God willing, my grandchildren will keep as well.

Tonight, for the first time in almost 2 years, we are finally home.

I've Had a BAD DAY!

This has been one of those days when it would have just been better to go back to bed. Can I get a do over?

First, the dentist: My dentist's office has a knack for writing the WRONG DAY on my reminder card. In September I missed my appt. becuase they wrote Sept 5 on my card, but they had Sept 3 in their system, and since we had just moved, I didn't get a call. No biggie. I rescheduled for the same day that my kids go in - Oct 21, a Tuesday. I checked it several times to be sure, confirmed it with her over a month ago, and wrote it in giant letters on my calendar while still on the phone, just to be sure.

Today I get the confirmation phone call for my dental appointment at 10 am on Wednesday. Wait a minute! Wednesday, the 22nd? No, I tell her, it is for tomorrow, the 21st. That is what you wrote on my reminder card. I have it RIGHT HERE IN FRONT OF ME. The 21st. I can't make it on Wednesday, the 22nd, because we have another commitment that cannot be rescheduled. Bummer, because I really wanted to go to the dentist, you know?

So that set the tone of the day. Later that afternoon, we have to drive to Tae Kwon Do. My car was running fine, because we just refilled the coolant yesterday. We have to drive across town to drop off some paperwork, and when we get out, the kids notice the car is smoking (and not in the good way). What the hell?

So I look under the hood, don't see anything amiss, close it, drop off the paperwork, and we head home.

Half way home we need to pull over as my heat indicator gauge is almost on red. Now I am one step below freakin out, as it is dark. I know I have a coolant leak, but we just filled it yesterday! There is no way it can be empty already!

We let the car cool a bit, then get back in. About a mile from home, the gauge is again almost in the red. I pull over to a well lit parking lot near Sun City Bikes (go there if you ever need a bike!!!) and take another look. My loving son gets out to look, and as I show him the coolant parts, we go through our options. My cell is dead, I have no cash, and we don't get paid til Friday. I don't even have the money to use a pay phone, if I could even find one in this day and age. That is when I notice something amiss with my radiator cap (or whatever that metal cap is called). It is not sealed.

Evidently, when we checked the coolant levels this weekend, we put the cap on but did not screw it down all the way. Thus, while I cruised around town this evening, I was spewing coolant all under the hood. Now I have no coolant, an overheated engine, and no way to call my hubby for help. Can we say ready to cry?

However, sometimes God sends Angels. The owner of Sun City Bikes (buy a bike from him!!!) is closing for the night and sees we are in distress. In addition to knowing about bikes, he evidently knows quite a bit about cars as well. He strikes up friendly conversation, gets a bunch of water, takes care of the overheated engine for me, gives me advice to run the heater to get the hot out of the engine, makes sure the engine isn't damaged, and makes sure I am close enough to home so if anything happens I am not stuck with 3 kids on a dark road at night. NICEST FREAKIN GUY EVER (Go to Sun City Bikes!!). Needless to say, as I drove home the heat gauge on the car slowly moved to the left, indicating we were no longer a hot car. We pulled into the driveway, said a little prayer, turned off the car, and thankfully walked into the house. Nervous breakdown averted!

When we went to Church this week, we had to scrimp around for offering and the kids always have to use some of their own money for offering. One of the kids asked what the offering was for, and I explained it is a way of saying thank you to God and they Church for all they do for us, and that what ever we give comes back to you thousandfold. As I stood there with my overheated car and not even a quarter for a phone call, I looked up at the sky and joked with my son, "So much for that thousandfold, eh God?" But God got the best of me - after our Sun City Bikes Angel left and we were on our way home, my son, who I am beginning to believe is much smarter than I, says, "I guess God did pay you back, huh mom?"

We don't get to choose the form that thousandfold takes. At that moment in that parking lot, I didn't need a quarter or a nice cell phone. I just needed someone with all things, water. I needed a thousandfold of water, and that is what God sent.

It was worth every penny.

Then Just Quit Already!

I was trolling through some of my fave websites this morning - most are either education or homeschool related, but some are just fun, like facebook. However, one of the education websites I read provided some information that truly shocked me.

Let me preface this by a bit of history. My son was in full time day care for all of 9 months, and it was the longest 9 months of my life. It was also one of the costliest. We paid $150/week for full time care ten years ago. That would come to, on average, $600 a month, $750 for a 5 week month. OUCH. It was also one of the reasons we wanted to get me into a stay-at-home mom position, or at least, part-time working position. And once my hubby landed a job that paid as much as I made, and I found a part-time teaching position for a local college, we were able to do it.

Basically, we figured that I could make almost $800 a month LESS than what I was making full time, since we would no longer have day care costs. Since my take home pay was only $1600 a month, that was TOO easy. I taught 2 classes each semester and made more than that. We were set; I quit my full time job and we never looked back.

Let me also put out here that I am an advocate of the stay at home parent. If you manage to work part time and only have the kids with a sitter for a few hours a week, that is a different situation altogether. There is still one parent that is the primary caretaker. I firmly believe that if you have kids, YOU should raise them. Not some stranger that you found in the phone book. Not some distant relative who is "helping you out" to the tune of $200/week or more. YOU. YOU. YOU. That is your kid. Take care of him/her already!

I actually feel badly for those moms (and their kids) who say they can't (or just won't) stay home with the kidlets. They don't know what they are missing.

Fast forward to this Sunday morning, and my reading of Ed Report at eagleforum.org. They published an interesting article about the high costs of day care, specifically this line which almost knocked me out of my chair: "the average family with two children in Google day care would go, under the new plan, from paying $33,000 a year to paying over $57,000" (2008). WHO IN THE HELL WOULD PAY $33,000 A YEAR (let alone $57,000) TO SEND THEIR KIDS TO DAY CARE?!
Are you kidding me? Are you FREAKIN' kidding me?!

My take home when I worked full time was less than $28,000 a year. When the hubby started making the "big bucks," he made $32,000 a year. Essentially, if we had to send the kids to day care today, it would be cheaper for one us NOT to work instead! And if these are the costs of day care, then why in the name of all things Holy, does the second parent work? Unless that parent makes more than $40,000, they are PAYING to work. This does not include any other costs like lunches, clothes, car upkeep, gas, etc. That is the straight up babysitter fee.

Even if that same second parent made $50,000/year, then after taxes they are really only making about $6000/year after day care costs. 40 hours a day, 5 days a week, 50 weeks a year, for a measly $6000. Sell Avon instead. Have a bake sale. Either of these would net the same amount and you would be at home with your kids! No boss, no worrying about getting a sick day off, no missing the school play or that soccer game. No 95% of your pay going to a babysitter.

I guess I never really looked at the numbers. For those families who don't have the second parent, obviously this isn't an option. For those who have grandma watch the babies for super cheap or free, obviously this doesn't apply to you. But for those of you in two parent households, unless you make, and let's be realistic here, $70,000 or more, EACH, then one of you should quit. You will be richer in the long run.

Noble Intentions

Hours. I have them. I do. But most nights end like this one, and I wonder if I will ever have time of mine own.

The hubby and I typically stay up late - 12 am or so - him gaming, me catching up on work. Even if I don't have a class in session, I am catching up on our homeschool work, or on something for scouts, or cleaning the kitchen (one day I WILL invent a self cleaning kitchen, and I will then be the wealthiest and most beloved of women).

And what does this all come down to? I don't write. Not like I used to, not like I would like to. I have so many book ideas, article ideas, notes scattered around the house like so many autumn leaves blowing in the wind. What have I done with any of them lately? Nothing. Nothing but make said stacks larger as I take more notes, add more to the piles of info, come up with yet another article/book I want to write.

I am even jealous of a good friend who blogs nearly every other day - that is like a dream! I admire her for that commitment. For all the time I spend on this machine that has supplanted most of my life, I still cannot find adequate time to blog. It is all my fault, truly. And more to the fact, I use the "who's reading it anyway" excuse -- a horrible excuse. I should write for the joy of it, but by the end of the day, my fingers just want to fall off, as I have done little more than write or type all day and all night.

But realization comes like a splash of cold water, as my oldest has MAN hair on his legs and my oldest two need to use deodorant daily (nothing worse than prepubescent BO). The reality is that my time, this time with my kids is slowly, but too fast for me, coming to an end. I sat with my husband, lamenting this. In 9 years, I am done. The homeschooling is essentially complete, and with it, all those time-consuming trappings of childhood.

What do I do then? How will I fill those lonely hours that I used to grasp at so desperately, when I didn't have enough time to finish all I had to do? I am sad, so sad that I am starting to see the end of this great project granted to me by the grace of God. But I am also starting to see something else.

As I sat on the couch with my husband and discussed with him my fear of those lonely hours ahead, I knew what I was going to do to fill that time.

I shall write.

My Exciting Career News

For the most part, I consider myself a stay-at-home mom. We homeschool; I do most of the housework, and essentially no longer work outside of the home.


However, I am still a college professor and I teach online classes for National University. My employment with NU has been one of the best teaching positions I've had. Not only do I get to teach via this newer medium, I enjoy it. I receive great support from my dean and they employ me regularly -- which is always a plus. And this month, NU gave me the opportunity to stretch my professional career -- I got to develop full course curriculum for their new online Tech Writing course! YAY!


What does this mean to people who live in the "real world"? This is like having the a new office project land in your lap - and this project will be implemented for many people within that office. To develop curriculum, the prof needs to consider learning objectives, texts, outside references, lectures, interactive activities, reading assignments, writing assignments, quizzes/tests, and even discussion forums for students to have "in class" discussions.



I had most of the materials and ideas already, as I have taught Tech writing online several times in the past. The only difference is the text and base materials were pre-selected for me, as were the learning objects, page writing requirements, and such; but the rest was under my purview. This time, everything was up to me, and this class will set the online standard for any future online tech writing options (which I hope I will also write). Plus, not only will my students follow the course structure, but so will all students who take the class, whether I teach it or not.



And that is the added bonus - for the first few classes at least, I will be the one to teach it! More guaranteed teaching assignments!



I love being a college professor and I love online teaching. I love that NU has given me the opportunity to expand my career as a professor.








I often feel that I have it all - the ability to be a mom to my kids, and the uber-career of an online professor that lets me be that mom to my kids.





May you all one day feel that you too have it all.