I get half!

So, on the cusp of going to Vegas for a work/vacation get a way late in June, I have been trying to get my body ready for a new dress and, at my hubby's request, a bikini. A BIKINI. UGH. I haven't worn one since way before the birth of my third child, over 7 years ago.


My sisters both work out a lot and have great bodies. One sister works for 24-hour fitness, and the other just came in 2nd place in a fitness competition. I didn't not inherit the work-out gene. I am a reader and a writer, not runner or biker. So with a bit of their help and advice, I decided it was time to conquer the treadmill and my diet and get my body Vegas-ready. The spirit is willing; the flesh, weak.


First I really had to commit to the treadmill. I now record most of my TV shows and watch them on the treadmill. I usually can get 20-30 mins a day on the treadmill, plus I use weights and do arm exercises while I walk. Then, once arms are done, I crank up the speed a few notches and jog for a bit, then walk for the remainder of my time. I try to do this 5 times a week. Sometimes I get more, sometime less, but I'm pretty steady.

The most difficult part is the "healthy eating" part. I am not a dieter - I love my chocolate and snacks way too much. I've tried to diet before, and just can't stick to it. I like my junk food too much, and veggies not so much.


I am not into calorie counting - between kids, the house, homeschooling, work, and life in general, I needed something so easy a 2 yr old could do it, and it needed to be cheap. That is when I decided to do the easiest thing I could think of -- cut all the calories in half. That means cutting all the food in half (plus I cut out snacks - I can only have a 1/2 serving of shredded wheat if I'm hungry). If I cut the food in half, I cut the calories in half, simple as that.

So, for the past 4 weeks, I have been going halvsies on everything. The good news is I can still eat much junk and dinner with the kids. And while do get some hunger pangs, they aren't too bad. And, for the past 2 weeks, it has been difficult to eat larger portions or heavier food when I do try.

My stomach is getting used to less, not more, and for the past week, my collar bones have been sticking out -- I am starting to look bony! I used to wear size 16, which now fall off my hips. The size 14s are starting to feel small, and I just put on a size 12, which fit easily, today because I need a new dress for Vegas - and I bought it! Once more size and I will be where I was before I got pregnant with my son; two more and I will be the size I was in high school!

I wasn't huge, but I wasn't happy with my muffin, my back fat, of being the fat sister. I am on my way to losing all three. Who ever said that losing was a bad thing?

The Trials of Laryngitis!

I am a talker. I love to gossip, talk on the phone; I even lecture once a week as a college prof - for nearly 4 hours! So you can imagine how, lacking a voice, my style is truly crimped.

Every few years or so, I manage to catch a cold, but instead of the standard head cold, it settles into my chest and throat, rendering my voice box useless. While many (not the least my hubby) breath a sigh of relief and this brief reprieve, it does really pose significant difficulties for me. Class on Thursday will be interesting if I don't have my voice back by then. And working with the kids on their school work? So much for read alouds for the next few days. Plus, today I am meeting a old friend whom I hardly ever see - I guess it will be a mostly one sided conversation! UGH.

The good news it usually only lasts for a 3-4 days, so I should be back to my chatterbox self by Thursday or Friday. The down side: making myself heard over my gaggle of kids when they get to playing, fighting, yelling, gaming, etc.

It is going to be a quiet week at our house!

Who in the Hell does he think he is?

My doctor, I mean.

Envision a typical doctor visit for an initial consult. You are not sick; nothing is wrong; you are just getting the doctor familiar with you. A typical, easy visit, if scheduled at 9 am, will include a 20 minute wait or so, the 20 minute visit, pay, and you are out the door in an hour.

Now for my doctor:
I have a tight schedule today - doctor in the morning, someone coming by right after noon, and I have to be out the door to each by 4 pm. Very tight. My appt was set for 10 am, and I got there 15 minutes early to fill out paperwork or whatever. My esteemed doctor kept us waiting for an hour and 30 minutes, no apologies, nothing. That was the time BEFORE I ever saw his face. We went through my son first, them began with me.

When we were almost done with my consult, my phone went off (LOUD ringing). I went over to it to check if it was the person stopping over (since it was almost noon and I thought I would be home by this time!) and shut it off and he left the room. When he came back he was infuriated that I didn't turn off my phone, and how it cuts into his time (after I just sat there for an hour and a half? Are you KIDDING ME? I am NOT on YOUR schedule buddy!).

Well, THAT flipped my bitch switch, but I took the higher road. I just shrugged and said "Sorry," when I really wanted to let him know what I thought of MY long wait compared to the 15 seconds it took to get my phone. At this point, I was absolutely frazzled. I hate how some people think their time is so much more important, and there are several doctors in our area that would love a reasonably healthy family of 5. My time is just as valuable, if not, more valuable becuase it is MY time, and MY KIDS' time -- and nothing is more valuable than that, especially not some jerk of a doctor I just met.

Then we resumed the consult and finished, and by then he was acting VERY nice and smiling at me - completely different from his character prior to the phone call of death. Then, as he was getting ready to leave the room, he shook my hand, then just kept touching my hand and kept shaking it again -- a bit up close like. What the hell? Was that an apology for being an ass? If so, it was an uncomfortable one!

After almost 2 1/2 hours at the doctor, I am beat. I am willing to see if the relationship gets better. Otherwise, I think I may have to expand the search for a doctor. Let's hope this was just a misstep - I really don't want to search for a new doctor!

But I will. Don't be a jerk to me, especially if I am paying you for a service, even if you are an esteemed doctor. In this economy, I can and will take my business elsewhere.

Adoptions are fun!

After the sad passing of our Shadow, we mourned for about a day or two when my youngest asked if we can get a new kitty. My loving hubby had already given me the thumbs up on doing this ASAP, so we were ready to go. Imagine my surprise when we couldn't find a kitten to save our souls.

We can't easily adopt from the pound as their "no declawing" rule grossly contradicts my "declaw immediately" law. Nothing on craigslist; nothing in pet stores; nothing from friends. Just when life seemed bleak, a beacon of kitten light appeared by way of a homeschooling friend. She had a neighbor with 2 girl kittens who were headed for the pound if they weren't adopted soon.

She brought them to our park day, and we inspected the kittens, trying to see which we liked more. My son was out-voted, so his choice was put back in her cat carrier while we put our newest member of the family in our little crate.

Then the problem arose - the reject managed to conjure the saddest, most pathetic look and mews known to man. And my soft-hearted son was distressed - he knew the kitten we didn't pick was destined for an unglorious fate. He didn't pester, but he did ask if there was anyway we could take the second one, too.

I admit the kittens were stinkin' cute - how people can NOT adopt kittens is beyond my mortal ken. But that means more work, more $$ for the declaw and spay, more everything. I told him I was not up for it, and I didn't think Daddy would want two cats in the house. Aden asked if he could text daddy and ask him. If dad was OK with it, would I be?

I looked into his earnest face and said, "Sure." I knew my hubby did not want two cats, so we were OK - then Dad's text came through and read "call me" - so I did. He said, "Why not? It will only add to the chaos of the house." I nearly died! He agreed? The kids would be ecstatic!

And they were - we scooped that other kitten out of the carrier, put her in a holey box, and took her home. Stormy managed to dodge the bullet and join her sister Valentine at our house. Two cuddly kittens you've never met - the only way they sleep is entwined with one another.

I told the kids, when Shadow passed, that God had a plan. There was a reason God took Shadow to be with him - maybe there was another cat out there who needed us more. I was wrong. There were two.

The worst week ever.

That pretty much sums it up. How bad, exactly? Let my make a bulleted list for you, from pretty bad to REALLY bad:

1. My daughter forgot to wear an overnight last night, so I had to change pee-sheets at 2 in the morning.

2. One of my classes this semester seems to be heavily LACKING in the brains department. Can we use just an iota of common sense, please?

3. All three kids, and my hubby, have been sick - I have been eating oranges, grapefruit, Zicam, and Airborne like crazy, and Lysol-ing EVERYTHING to ward off all possible germs.

and the worst:
4. My 7 month old kitty died today . . . due to complications while getting spayed and vaccinated.

And piggy-backing on that:
5. How am I going to tell my kids? Especially my 8 year old who told me a few months ago that her biggest fear was to wake up and find the cat bleeding? Or my son who calls the kitten "his" kitten? Or my little 6 year old who has no idea that pets can die?

Oh my God . . . are you kidding me?

The vet called just a few minutes ago, and you know it is going to be bad when the conversation starts like this: "Hello, Michelle. This is Dr. ----- from the Animal hospital. The reason I'm calling is we had some complications . . . ."

I knew. I knew at that moment. The receptionist calls with good news, the Dr. only with the bad.

Shadow was the tiniest gray kitten - feisty as hell. And she hated you and hissed at you until you grabbed one of her "chase me" toys, then she would let you pet her. She cuddled with me all day yesterday, and every morning she would follow me into the bathroom, purring loud enough to vibrate the walls, as if to say, "I am SO glad you finally woke up!" She loved to chase Sophie's feet, play with the dog, and she could jump almost three feet straight up with a back flip to try and chase one of her cat toys.

I love this cat. Even the vet was crying on the phone, and I am crying now just thinking that I don't get her back on Saturday. Instead, we have to talk to the kids and see if we want to pick up the ashes. Don't mention this to the kids yet if you email or talk to them - they don't know yet. We have to have "the talk" tomorrow morning.

The vet said it was a very rare occurrence, especially in a cat this young, energetic, and healthy. It is almost unheard of.

The last thing we said to the kitten as we left was, "Goodbye Shadow! We love you!"

Goodbye, Shadow. We love you.

OOPS! I Did It Again!

Writing, that is!




It has been too long since I sat at the computer for me. I teach college English courses online, set up homeschooling lesson plans with my Word program, and surf the internet, reading my email and homeschool blogs, but it has been almost 2 years since I have submitted anything for publication.Well, over the course of my internet wandering, and reading my own recommendations to other writers, I grew tired. I was tired of everyone else writing, but not me. I am a good writer (Heck, I think I'm a great writer!), but you are not REALLY a writer if you don't write. And I haven't been writing. Nothing except intermittent ramblings on blogs, anyhow.

Enough is Enough! I told myself. I sat down after dinner, let the kids game their brains out on the Wii, and put fingers to keyboard. I wrote an interesting piece on a handwriting impediment for Practical Homeschooling Magazine (I've been published there a few time before - great homeschool resource IMO). Whether or not it will be published is still in the air - it is not my typical fare and it is lengthier than my normal submissions. BUT! It was a submission none-the-less. My first in 2 years.

Once again, I can call myself a writer. Now where is my stinkin' Nobel Prize already?

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.

Gaming with the Stars!

So, Grimwell attends that Mecca of all gamers in America: E3. That paragon of game technology beckons thousands from all over the world and flaunts its multichromatic vice to all. Surprisingly, that “all” includes famous celebrities who made the short trek from Hollywood to LA to also peruse what’s new in gaming.

I must admit, the idea of Hollywood’s greatest playing online games fascinates me – it’s like finding out that Superman and Wonder Woman are regulars at your favorite restaurant, only with an added bonus. There is an excellent chance that you may be better at the game than they are. They may have to ask you —little, peon, nobody you – for help to get to the next level.

I say this not as an insult but as a realization. For example, my 10 year old plays GuildWars and is fairly adept at it (of course he is – he’s ten! Anyone younger than 12 is a pro at any piece of technology no matter how new advanced it is. We should have 10 year olds working with technology for the Defense Department!) As a result, newer players regularly offer my son in game money in return for a tour of a place or to help them get to a really great place for gold and action. My son finds this hilarious – that a 10 year old could do it on his own but the other guys can’t. But he’s no fool; he takes their money and leads the way.

I think these people would freak if they knew a prepubescent was their tour leader. I feel the same way about gaming with celebrities. As it turns out, Robin Williams is a game freak and had a blast at E3 himself. Could you imagine learning that a guild mate of yours was none other than Robin Williams?! That is an interesting element of the internet – absolute anonymity. And even if he did try to say he was THE Robin Williams, no one would believe him – look what happened in the 90’s when David Duchnovy tried to enter a chat room about himself. “Yeah, right. And I’m Gillian Anderson!” No one believed him.

Maybe if Robin William told some good jokes; but even then, believing that the really good joke teller in your guild is the REAL Robin Williams is a stretch. It would be great fun to try to screw with him though (“Yeah, you need to kill every rabbit in the game before you can advance to the next level”). Mr. Williams seems to be a great sport about things, and that could easily translate into being a great gamer. Plus, the idea of having power over the powerful can make one giddy with the possibilities!
However, not all celebrity gaming is a good thing. Look at what happens when you let Paris Hilton take the controller. She may look pretty, but could you imagine if she were in your guild? Ugh! It would be the “losers” guild with nothing more than clipped language (“Do you want to go to the next town?” “That’s hot!”). She would be more worried about her shoes than whether her friends were getting whacked by some egregious creature in the game!

And don’t get me started on her lovely sense of recall. While she may make a pretty model, a spokesperson she is not! Her game “Paris Hilton’s Jewel Jam” will not only be in the $1 bin within a week of release, she cannot even correctly name her own game! Instead, she called it “DiamondQuest” and left the building. Could you imagine the horror that would ensue if she played an online game? “Ohh, let’s play ‘Land of Fighting!’” “No, I don’t want to level. I just like picking out clothes for my character. That’s hot!”

Don’t even get me started on Tom Cruise (“We must have absolute silence while gaming!”).

All in all, while some celebrities would be a blast to game with – Robin Williams is one, and I think Samuel L. Jackson would be fun to encounter in game – too many Paris Hiltons and Tom Cruises could really spoil the fun. That’s what makes online gaming so fun; I don’t have to know who I’m really playing with. And if I don’t like them, I can take my cloak of magic and go play somewhere else.

On Getting Busy

It’s 11:00 pm. The kids were put to bed long ago. I’ve finished doing my nightly routine of picking up the house, putting stuff away, and checking on the dog. Most of the lights are off; the doors are locked. It’s time.

I light some candles in the bedroom to set the mood. I bought a little black and red swatch of material from Victoria’s and it fits great. I put my hair up, check to see the make-up looks good, then I drape myself in the door way of the office and ask my husband, the gamer, in a husky voice, “Wanna get busy?”

His eyes don’t even twitch from the computer screen. The lights in here are brighter than the sun and he is glued to this game that he has already been playing for 2 ½ hours. You’d think he’d need some sort of break, right? And my idea is usually a top one for men, right?

I might as well have asked him what they are serving for dinner on the moon for all the attention he paid me. I mean, come on! The lights are low; the bed is turned down, and I am wearing next to nothing! Does he even give me a glimpse? No – I get this response (come on gamer-spouses, recite it with me), “Can you just give me a few minutes, hon? I’m almost done with this level.”

Ok – the mood is shot and for men who complain that they don’t get enough – this picture here is exactly why. Women are very fickle creatures, and if you don’t grab us while we are hot, you will end up with NO ACTION in return. Don’t come crying to us that you don’t get enough; when we throw ourselves at you, your eyes are glued to a fictional character in a fictional place doing fictional things.

Thus, I thought is was hilarious when my husband then showed me a video of the three Australian comedians singing about making the woman wait while they completed another level or finished gaming with their group. Their jokes about finding something to do as it may take a while are right on! Evidently, I’m not the only one who thinks this “gaming is better than sex” issue is a fairly significant one!

As all gaming spouses know, the “Just give me a minute” comment is equivalent to telling the spouse to grab a book – it’s going to be a while. War and Peace is a good choice at this juncture; so is Les Miserables. The Stand by Stephen King would also be excellent fodder for this downtime. Anything in excess of 1000 pages will be required reading if you anticipate seeing that gaming spouse anytime that evening.

If you don’t fall asleep reading (and waiting for your spouse to hit that next level), you just may get your wish and a little action. However, if you are like most gaming spouses, me in particular, you will fall asleep with that book on your face. Then, if you are really lucky, you get to try again the next night, and the next, and the next.

What a waste of makeup. I didn’t do my hair just to sleep with a nice style. I’d rather fall asleep in my flannel jammies than a skimpy, uncomfortable swatch of satin. As for me, I’ll be reading Anna Karenina. He can wake me when he’s done with this level.

Putting Up With Gaming

As a gamer's wife, I have to put up with a lot. I have to put up with dinner being late because we have to wait for Grim to finish his level/game, or I lose out on the romantic night because he has to game with the guys online. I have to put up with “Just another second, hon. I've almost destroyed this rabbit! Then I will have access to the magical watermelon rind!” Plus, I have to listen to him and all his friends talk about gaming ALL THE TIME. Honestly, that is probably the worst.

Since we work in the gaming industry, we have to discuss gaming quite a bit, which is OK with me – I mean it is work after all. However, one would think that we live, eat, sleep, and breathe nothing but games, given how others react when they learn what we do. Especially for me, since I also teach at a technical school, whose fight song could be entitled “Game on, Game on, for Freeport . . .” This is the type of school where, if MMOG was offered as a major, that would be the only major. No one would attend the school for any other subject. This is a school where, when you walk down the halls, no only do a slew of students duke it out in a game of Magic, but wireless laptops are open and it looks like the owners have a terrible habit of talking loudly to themselves (“To the left! To the left! Behind you! AHHH!!”).

Needless to say, I don't broadcast that I work with or write about games for a living, and I sure as heck have learned not to mention that Grimwell is my husband. I've had students actually recognize the name and then want to do nothing more than talk about him all night long! I have to live and work with the guy, and the last thing I want to do is talk about his gaming habits with a bunch of MY students all night long! If I should let it slip that I edit his website, all I hear for the next hour is, “Does he play this? What does he think of that? What server is he on?” Or, God save me, even worse: “Do your play EQ2?” What server are you on?”

To tell the truth – I have no idea. When anyone starts talking about mmorpgs or PS3, it's like someone flipped a switch and now everyone is speaking in tongues. I, on the other hand, then have the ungrateful task of trying to bring attention back around to whatever it is the students are supposed to learning.

And it's not just students – our personal friends also fall under this banner. Take our friend Jay. When we are together with Jay and his wife, Jay is a normal person. However, get him alone with Grim (or, God help me, Grim and myself) and it is non-stop game talk. My eyes start to glaze over and I begin to mentally rearrange my shoe closet. Even worse, sometimes Grim is not even there, but since I am, I become the gaming conversationalist by default. As an example, last week I was at a girl-gathering with Jay's wife at Jay's house. In the midst of our superficial talk, Jay came home and asked his wife if he had time to play his new game downstairs. Then he proceeded to share all the info of his new game with me – how he got it for free with trade-ins, how he can't wait to play it, how he talked to Grim about it for some reason, yadda yadda yadda . . . and my eyes begin to lose focus.

It's not that I am against gaming or anything; quite the reverse. There are many games, online and PC games, which I play. My kids play a variety of PC, online, and console games as well. We are a gaming family, and I have learned to accept that. It is just so difficult to talk about gaming ALL THE TIME –especially when I am seen as little more than Grim's proxy game conversationalist. I am not a gamer – not in the way Grim and his associates are, so the only thing I ask is that, sometimes, can we talk about something else? How about those Lakers? I hear the weather can be nice to talk about. Do you have any boring tales about your family? Because I would LOVE to talk about all that.

How (Not) to Sell!

I have dabbled in marketing and advertising for a while now -- quite a few years ago with Allstate, then on my own as an independent contractor for smaller businesses. I have worked on pieces that eventually became advertisements, internal communications, media kits, websites, and other odd communications. I have also written some articles as of late as well. Throughout all of this work, my highest priority has always been language. To select the right word, the perfect word, le bon mot, is essential to the overall product. In my writing classes, the one aspect of writing I emphasize most is that of language -- finding that one perfect word.

So it surprises me considerably to see commercials on the air, commercials for which companies have paid MILLIONS, use atrocious or awkward language, especially when one small change could have made all the difference.

Take for example the recent Dos Equis beer commercial. Here they present the quintessential distinguished gentleman, surrounded by his harem of attractive women, and how do they advocate their product? "I don't always drink beer; but when I do, I drink Dos Equis." I don't always drink beer? If you are a beer company, that is the ONLY thing you want your audience drinking! To promote an alternative, even as a means to set a certain tone within the commercial, fails entirely. In advertising, you want the core of your commercial promoting your product, and if that product is beer, then that better be the only thing your hottie older man is drinking! Imagine this one small change: "When I drink beer, I drink Dos Equis." The same message is conveyed, and the option of NOT drinking beer (God forbid) is implied, but not overt. To the casual watcher, the only beer is Dos Equis. There is no option for any other drink of choice.

Ford Motor Company did something similar, but instead of just dropping the ball on endorsing their own product, they tarnished it to millions by admitting the LIED to the general public. In their most recent commercial, they promote their vehicles via a "swap" -- a driver swapping his or her current vehicle for a Ford vehicle. Then, in an almost comical undertone, the announcer admits, "We didn't tell them we were from Ford. We said it was market research." I'm sorry, but instead of coming clean with these people and saying, "Hey, we're from Ford and want to get your opinion on our vehicles. Drive one and tell us what you think," they admit to MILLIONS OF VIEWERS that they were willing to CONNED the people whose opinion they solicited! And admit it on public television! In a commercial THEY paid for! Talk about irony! Paying to admit that you defrauded others?

The problem here is that no one CARED if Ford admitted who they were or not. Had Ford contact me, a non-Ford driver, and said they wanted me to drive their car and see what I thought, I would have said, "Sure!" Whether or not they were from Ford or from some market research firm would make little difference. However, to baldly LIE to others in order to garner information, and then use that as a selling point in their commercial, really defeats the overall purpose of the commercial - you lied to me about your company, why should I trust you when you say you make good cars? Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.

Again, the irony here is all they had to do is change the language a bit and they would have been fine - We at Ford are conducting market research. It is essentially the same thing - market research - only Ford would not have been LYING when they said it.

Of course, my son thinks that car commercials are boring and all the same, and the only ones worth watching are the funny ones. Given the high viewership of those comical Superbowl commercials, I think he is right - and he's only ten! I know that the only car commercials I care to watch are the funny ones, and there are pathetically few of those as it is.

Maybe if advertisers focused more on their audience, those of us who have to WATCH those stinking commercials, we wouldn't have these language issues. But who am I? Oh, right. I'm a consumer. They need to market to me.

Highlight

The backdrop:
We have homeschooled since my oldest was born. My dh is out of town for over a week, so I decide to take the kids to Boston Market for dinner (we have a coupon - yay!).

The scene:
The kids help get the trays to the table, get drinks, help each other with silverware, wait for help, say please and thank you, etc... All around good kids displaying the behavior we EXPECT when out to eat.

The interruption:
In the middle of great conversation with my 3 kids, a family with two little boys (3 and 4 or so?) and boy were they LOUD. Even my kids, who can be loud, commented on it. Plus the boys were running up and down the aisle and no listening to parent.

The foreshadow:
Also in the restaurant were an elderly lady and her mother, sitting across the center aisle from us.

What followed:
The parents of the loud kids finally got the kids under control and got dinner on the table - loud and annoying crisis averted!

The Climax:
In the middle of conversation with the kids, the elderly lady and her mother can over to me.

The Highlight of my day:
She said "I just wanted to tell you what beautiful and well-behaved children you have. You must be so proud of them."

Finally:
I thanked her profusely, and we agreed that well-behaved kids are better than the other option, and wished each other a nice day. Then mommy got all teared up that my beautiful and well-behaved kids were basically complimented by a total stranger for their mere existence. And all is right in the world, except daddy wasn't there to see it. But the kids did, and I think that was more important.

The end.

Why it is good to have friends . . .

I haven't had friends, a big circle of friends, since high school. Back then, everyone little clique found others with similar interests, and that became your group. For me, that was fifteen year ago.

Today, however, I learned that once again have more friends in my circle than I can shake a stick at. It rivals the group I had in high school! While I somehow knew I had these friends, I didn't realize how many or how truly committed they were until just this weekend. Then they came out of the woodwork in droves, and for that I am so grateful.

We are in the process of a move and my hubby is not around a lot as a result. Over the course of 2 days, every friend I have in the area, even ones I didn't realize were real friends, those ones you can count on in a pinch, called me to see how I was doing. They ALL offered to help babysit or run errands when needed, come and help pack, move boxes, or just let me unload emotionally if necessary. I have waited fifteen years to have friends like this again, and now I have to leave them. Subtle irony there, no?

But the upside is they are there - they are sticking to me even though I will be 2000 miles away in two months. With promises to call and keep in touch, we all know how easy it is to lose friends when distance and life in general get in the way. Only this time I have all their email address and phone numbers, and I will make avid use of them. Friends like these I just can't move away from; part of them will move with me when I go.

And hopefully, a small part of me will stay with them as well.

Thanks, friends.