Telling Stories

Dear Teenage Girl

Dear Teenage Girl,

I know things aren’t easy for you. The world is a cruel place to people like you. It makes you think you’re only as good as you are pretty, that your self-worth is tied up in a number on a scale, a number on your clothing tag or how beautiful you are compared to the other girls around you.

Worse, that comparison game isn’t something that only happens when you’re with your friends. It’s non-stop. Every time you look on Instagram or SnapChat or Kik, you’re faced with that never-ending curiosity and wonder…

Is she prettier than me?
Why didn’t my picture get that many likes?
Why didn’t my best friends ask me to hang out?
Why doesn’t that boy like me?

These questions, whether you realize it or not, turn into false conclusions like…

Things would be better if I was prettier.
Everything would change if I just had a boyfriend.
I have to sleep with him to make him like me.
If I could just lose 15 pounds everything would change.

It’s confusing. And I get it.

But I have something to discuss with you, and it’s kind of important, so hear me out. When I met you in real life, my impression was that you were sweet and good. Kind and funny. Witty and smart. Because those are the qualities you showed me. I like those qualities. They’re good ones to show off.

So I’m confused why your Tumblr account is full of vile, awful photos and even worse words. Invitations for perfect strangers to do things to you that you are far too young to be doing. I’m confused why someone as talented and sweet as you feels the need to invite boys to look at you not as a person, but as an object? What is it about yourself that you don’t see? What don’t you feel is good enough that you have to substitute your best qualities with ones you keep hidden behind your internet persona?

Maybe you never showed me the real you…but I’m choosing to believe you did. I’m choosing to believe the person I spent time with is who you are when you’re comfortable in your own skin, and the person I see online is the person you’re trying to be to make up for whatever it is about yourself you think is missing.

Dear girl, I know it’s hard to be a teenager—harder than when I was a teenager, and frankly, it was pretty darn hard then too.—but you. YOU are better than this. You are sweet and kind and good. You’re funny and witty and smart. Don’t you see it?

You don’t need to use your body to sell something to people who don’t deserve you. You don’t need to sell sex just because the world thinks you should. Do those photos really make you feel good? Are you really comfortable with them? Would you ever say any of those words and phrases out loud to actual real, live people? And if so, next time I see you, why don’t you show them to me?

I suppose in many ways, who you are online is who you are, because that is how people form their opinions of you… so ask yourself, is that who you want to be? And if it is, why is that person so different from the one I met in real life?

I wish you knew how special you are. I wish you didn’t need strangers to validate you or boys to tell you so. I wish you knew it from a place deep, deep down, that you are not only special, but you are loved. You are a masterpiece.

Please, please, start treating yourself like one.

Sincerely, 

Someone who cares...

Dear Daughter {On the Day You Turn 13}

Dear Sophia. 

Today you are officially a teenager. Funny, I don't feel much older than I did the day I had you, and yet, I guess we've both grown up over these last 13 years. 

We've both learned so much along the way, and with every challenge our family has faced, I have watched you grow and learn and become. 

And while it hasn't always been easy, it has always been a little bit amazing. 

Yesterday you said to me, it was your "last official day of being a kid", and I have to tell you, something inside me stood up and took notice. And I wondered at what point we made you think that being 13 meant you had to be all grown up. 

Because, dear daughter, you don't. 

You've always been such an old soul. Always seemed older. Sometimes I've forgotten you're still "just a kid" and maybe treated you like you shouldn't act silly or young or goofy, and for that, I'm sorry. Just because I'm not silly or goofy does not mean I don't want you to be. 

I do. Very much. Because, sweet girl, you've got the rest of your life to be a grown up. The rest of your life to worry about responsibilities and stresses. You don't have them now, and I don't want you to. I want you to know the way it feels to be carefree, even if it's just for a few more years. 

Thirteen is a big one. I suppose you should feel older and more mature, and I bet that's what you want. You're at that age where you want to be taken seriously and treated like an adult, and I know how important that is. I actually remember filling my own journals with questions, wondering why no one would listen to what I had to say. 

All I can tell you is, the time will come. Keep looking for your voice. Keep seeking ways to use it in kindness. And know that even on the days you think no one is listening, they are. Sometimes it's in the silence that your voice will be heard. 

So while maybe I'm not quite ready to lose the little girl in you...I know that time marches on. I know that you're changing and growing up. And as you do, there are things I hope you feel. 

Loved. And listened to. And empowered to go after the dreams that's God's begun to stir in your heart. I hope you feel like you've been made for a purpose. I hope you feel like God made you for a reason. I hope you feel like you can change the world...even if you are just one person.

I hope you feel smart. And brave. And kind. I hope you feel strong and beautiful and accepted. 

I hope you seek simplicity, keep your priorities in check, never look down on other people, get caught up in good things. I hope you rest. Seek joy. Find truth. I hope you ask questions. Stay curious. Believe in yourself. Believe in our family. 

And I hope most of all, that you begin to follow hard after the One who gave you life. 

Because His love for you knows no limits. And neither does mine. 

Happy Birthday, dear Sophia. May all your wishes come true...

The Difference Between Encouragement & Entitlement

Last week, I stumbled upon an article about things we should get rid of to prevent entitlement in our kids. The author brought up some great points, and I've been chewing on her words ever since. 

See, I'm an encourager by nature. That's who I am. I also happen to work with kids. So as I read, I realized there's a very, very fine line between Encouragement & Entitlement...and it's one I want to be aware of. 

Younger generations have been stereotyped as kids who don't want to work, and over and over I keep hearing that word...Entitled. But the truth is, I think that entitlement starts at home. With us. The parents. We are so dedicated to building them up that we almost go too far. We take this encouragement thing to the nth degree and end up with spoiled kids who don't think they should ever suffer disappointment. 

As parents, it's in our nature to want to rush to our kids' defense. Always. The kid doesn't make the volleyball team--we want to go in and give that coach a piece of our mind. The kid doesn't get the lead in the musical, we tell them the director doesn't know what they're talking about. The kid sits on the bench the whole football season...we take up our complaints with the coach's boss. We stop at nothing to prove that everyone else is wrong. All to prevent our kids from feeling that disappointment. 

But you know what? Disappointment breeds greatness. It chips away at our insecurities, building a new resolve, one that is stronger and more focused than before. Disappointment is one of the greatest motivators there is...and if we rob our children of this wretched feeling, how will they ever learn to overcome? 

Here's the truth. We aren't going to be there for them forever. The world is a harsh, wicked place. When they grow up and go off in to it, they're not going to have someone petting their hair and telling them how great are every step of the way. They get that from somewhere down deep...inside...and for my kids, I want them to get it from a spiritual place. Knowing what God says about them is all that really matters. 

Recently, I was praying and I stumbled upon a question I hadn't intended to ask God. Why did it have to be so painful? He knew what I was talking about, of course, the latest Walsh tragedy, which sucked all the oxygen out of our lives in a way that truly left us broken. 

For a time. 

What happened doesn't matter, but it was thoughtless and senseless and painful. It was unwarranted and honestly felt a lot like junior high school...when suddenly, inexplicably, your friends stop letting you hang out at their lunch table. We've all been there, but when you're an adult, you expect to be treated a little better than when you were thirteen. 

In retrospect, now that we've seen our way out of the darkness and watched God work over and over again (and again and again)...I see how the ugliness of the situation led us to this point. How it gave Him a chance to show up, to remind us who He is, to keep us in the palm of His hand and lead us where we need to go. 

I have no doubt we're walking out the plans and purposes he set before us, but in my sorrow, I asked God, WHY? Why did it have to be so painful? Why can't people treat other people well? And God reminded me that if it wasn't painful, it wouldn't mean as much. And frankly, we wouldn't have taken the necessary steps to do what He's called us to do {start The Studio, build a business, struggle to figure things out, instill a love of the arts in kids and adults...and most importantly, treat people as valuable and precious...because they are.} 

Sometimes disappointment is a great motivator. 

It gets us thinking outside the box. It forces us to get creative. It makes us want to fight. For ourselves. It makes us sit up and say "What do I really want? What is God telling me to do?"

And if we rob our kids of that feeling, of those realizations...we do them no good. 

And believe me, I know how hard it is. And I am a huge fan of sticking up for our kids, of defending them when we need to...but sometimes...sometimes...when we get in the middle of it, when we give the coach a piece of our mind (in front of our kids)...when we don't realize that WORK is a necessary part of anything worthwhile, we set them up for even greater disappointment. 

We set them up for failure. 

So yes, encourage...but encourage the work. Encourage that feeling that makes them want to do better next time. Encourage them to challenge themselves. 

And when you do, you'll set them up to succeed. 

Because really, that's what we all want, isn't it? 

Winners Pt. 3, Class update & a little college road trip song

It's Friday, the last day of announcing winners (until next week...) and we have a big weekend of creating in front of us...I'll be preparing for next week's Girls' Art Night Out, which still has a few spots open if you're interested. 

We're going to be doing some hand-lettered art on solid pine stained wood blocks. 

It's tedious and therapeutic and I love making these because the words really are the star of the piece. My Lovebirds art class on February 9th is SOLD OUT, but you can still get in here and paint with us January 31st. Just email me at: courtney{at}thestudiorockford{dot}com to sign up! 

Now, about those winners... 

We do have another giveaway going on over at our Facebook page. 1/2 dozen cupcakes from The Cravery as soon as we hit 600 Likes...It's possible that I ate a Cravery cupcake for dinner last night. And it's possible that I wanted to lick the plate. 

It was really, really good. :) 

One last little order of business, because we've got college on the brain this weekend...

Remember college? Everyone tells you those are the best years of your life...and while I'm not quite sure I subscribe to THAT theory, I did LOVE college. Met Adam in college. Figured out who I was in college. 

And who I wasn't. 

Made some really amazing friends along the way...

And one of our favorite things is working with kids who getting ready to head off to school. There's so much nostalgia wrapped up in it, and it's exciting to watch our kids standing on the precipice of something new.

We decided to well-wish one of our students in song...because this weekend is a big deal for her. And because we are cheerleading her all the way to Nashville and back... 

 

We've LOVED sharing our Big Dream with you guys, and are SO thankful for everyone who is on this journey with us...We can't wait to see what happens next...

Related articles

A Frozen Giveaway {in celebration of Camp Frozen!}

WINNERS! WINNERS! Pt. 2 {at the Studio}

Come Sing at The Studio! {And & Giveaway with Urban Farmgirl & the Cravery}

Introducing {The Studio} Music, Theatre & Arts for Rockford, Illinois

WINNERS! WINNERS! Pt. 2 {at the Studio}

We have another cold day off of school over here, so I'm sitting here with my coffee, wondering if winter will ever end...

I suppose that's as good a reason as any to announce some more winners, don't you think? 

In case the little arrows make your eyes bug out, here's the list: 

1. Mahalo Ukulele (you pick the color!): Becca Ketter

2. 1 1/2 Voice Lesson at The Studio: Mindy (Daisy's mom) 

3. 1/2 dozen cupcakes from The Cravery: Patty Pann

4. Urban Farmgirl gift certificate & T-shirt: Tina Fritts

**If you've won, email me at: courtney@thestudiorockford.com and we'll get you hooked up with your prizes!! 

Remember, there are still a couple of awesome prizes up for grabs (one I haven't even announced yet!) including...

Sign up HERE to enter our Frozen Giveaway. 

Sign up HERE to enter our Steps to Grace giveaway.

AND, because we love you oh-so-much, be watching today for a drive-by giveaway over on our Facebook page...our way of saying thank you.

In the meantime, look what showed up on our doorstep! We were pretty darn excited to see the first of our Studio Gear arriving...

 

Stay warm, this fair Thursday, friends!

 

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Come Sing at The Studio! {And & Giveaway with Urban Farmgirl & the Cravery}

WINNERS! WINNERS! {at the Studio}

Introducing {The Studio} Music, Theatre & Arts for Rockford, Illinois

WINNERS! WINNERS! {at the Studio}

This is my favorite part...announcing the winners of our giveaways. This week will be a mix of winner-announcing and continuing to give awesome stuff away...so we're doing it in stages, because a girl can only handle so much excitement in one day. 

To that end, I am thrilled to announced our first round of WINNERS from last week's giveaways! It's only fair that we go in order, so I'm starting with Days 1 & 2...

...which means, these goodies are STILL up for grabs: 

Click HERE to enter the ukulele giveaway. 

Click HERE to enter the Urban Farmgirl /Cravery giveaway. 

Click HERE to enter our Frozen giveaway. 

Click HERE to enter the Steps to Grace Giveaway. 

If you are one of our lucky winners, email me at: courtney@thestudiorockford.com and I'll tell you how you can claim your prize! 

*A word about this whole new adventure* 

Thank you. Okay, that's two words, and I'm a novelist, so I could write many, many more, but we just want to thank you for coming along on this journey with us, sharing our excitement and encouraging us as we've taken a pretty huge step of faith. It's been overwhelming, to say the least. Once again, we are reminded how very blessed we are, and as always, we're keeping our whole hearts and all of our plans surrendered to Him.

But the emails, phone calls and sign-ups have been joy-inducing. So, thank you. We can't wait to see what God does next.

 

 

 

 

 

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Come Sing at The Studio! {And & Giveaway with Urban Farmgirl & the Cravery}

A Frozen Giveaway {in celebration of Camp Frozen!}

Introducing {The Studio} Music, Theatre & Arts for Rockford, Illinois

A Steps to Grace Giveaway {at The Studio}

We're going to start picking winners for our giveaways later today, but in the meantime, I have to tell you about another awesome partnership we've got going over here at The Studio. 

Which means, another AWESOME giveaway. 

This is Holly: 

Holly is hands-down one of the most wonderful people I've ever met or worked with. She's an incredible dance teacher, choreographer and friend, and we cannot wait to work with her again soon! 

Holly owns Steps to Grace Dance Academy here in Rockford, which is celebrating its 10th year in business this year! The vision of Steps to Grace runs neatly parallel  with our vision for The Studio, which is why we know there will be some really awesome chances for us to partner together to impact our community. 

Because really, that's what this is all about. Making a difference right where we live. It's something that weighs so heavy on my heart, constantly asking God what's next and how he wants us to spend each day. 

I keep seeing faces and connections and meaningful relationships in the corner of my mind and I keep hearing the word "Value" as it spins circles around my thought bubbles...Value people. Value the work. Value the calling. 

So that's what we purpose to do. And that's what Holly does at Steps to Grace. So, TODAY, we are SUPER excited to offer a giveaway worth a pretty penny. We think our dance moms (Present and future) will really appreciate this one!

Plus, two different winners will be chosen. 

For the Spring/Winter session, Steps to Grace is offering a Multi-Mixed Level Musical Theatre Tap Class on Wednesdays from 7-7:30. This class will perform one of my all-time favorites "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy" in the 10-year Recital this spring. Holly is giving away a spot in this class to one lucky dancer...

PLUS

She's also giving away another spot in the class of your choosing to another dancer. 

Seriously, I'm bad at math, but I know that both of these giveaways are a HUGE value, not just financially but in what your child will walk away with after working with Holly and the awesome teachers at STG!

To sweeten the deal, The Studio is also giving away one of our brand new Studio T-Shirts! This is the first of much more "Studio Gear" to come...I can't wait to pick out pens! <---because I'm a nerd.

So how do I enter? 

1. Leave a comment on this blog post. Simply answer this question: What is your favorite dance movie? {We're keeping a list so we can marathon watch them this weekend!} <---also because I'm a nerd.

That's it! You're entered!! But if you want to up your chances of winning this awesome prize... 

2. "Like the Studio" on Facebook

3. Like "Steps to Grace" on Facebook

4-8. Facebook, Tweet, Blog, Pin or Instagram about The Studio, Steps to Grace or this giveaway. {as simple as sharing our images!}

**This is the important part! For each one of these you do, come back to this post and leave another comment. Winners will be chosen from this post!**

A Frozen Giveaway {in celebration of Camp Frozen!}

 

I find myself sleeping less these days. I wake up in the middle of the night, thinking about The Studio, thinking about how we arrived at this point, thanking God for bringing us back here to do the very thing we've been dreaming of doing our entire adult lives. 

Not very long ago, I was praying about all of this. Now, I'm a firm believer in hard work, mostly because I see lots of people who want God to answer their prayers easily. A check in the mail. A free pass. A bye. And I don't believe it works that way. In the words of the oh-so-wise Billy Blanks, "You gotta give some to get some." 

So, I prayed the naive prayer, "Lord, I'm not afraid of the work. Bring us the work and we'll do it." 

And, well, God answers prayer. In those quiet moments, I heard God say, "I'm requiring more from you." 

More than sitting on the sidelines. More than watching other people get in the game. This year, God is asking us to stop wasting time and start changing lives. To stop letting our hurts dictate and control our actions. 

To roll up our sleeves and work. {Will you come along for the ride?}

Anyway, last week was an absolute blast, sharing with you all about The Studio, meeting you over on Facebook and announcing our big giveaways {there's still time to enter...winners will be drawn tomorrow! Scroll down to enter!} 

Today, I want to tell you a little more about our upcoming Summer Camp. I should tell you we have lots of plans for the summer, and this one is one we're SO excited about!

Winter is coming this June! The Studio is proud to announce the first annual Studio Summer Camp—Camp FROZEN. The week will “peak” with our Friday Revue Performance, where kids will perform selections from Disney’s latest blockbuster movie, Frozen, along with other insanely fun music (Ice, Ice, Baby, anyone?) This, along with art, games, devotions, acting, singing, dancing, and more, will warm kids’ hearts and cool those summertime blues. Be a worm-getter and sign up early to save $20…then get ready to chill out!

You can find additional information on our website or email us at camps@thestudiorockford.com to register!

To celebrate our first summer camp as The Studio {Not our first time round the summer camp block, mind you...} we've got an awesome giveaway that I might have to hijack because I want to win it for myself.

We're giving away the Frozen 2-Disc Deluxe Soundtrack and the Frozen songbook {This prize isn't available until January 28th}. 

I can't wait to hear our private students singing these songs...and I REALLY can't wait to watch our Campers performing these songs!

So how do I enter? 

1. Leave a comment on this blog post. Simply answer this question: What is your all-time favorite Disney movie?

That's it! You're entered!! But if you want to up your chances of winning this awesome prize... 

2. "Like the Studio" on Facebook

3. Register for "Camp Frozen!" {We have to give you an extra chance to win if you do that!}

4-8. Facebook, Tweet, Blog, Pin or Instagram about Camp Frozen or this giveaway. {as simple as sharing our images!}

**This is the important part! For each one of these you do, come back to this post and leave another comment. Winners will be chosen from this post!**

Good Luck, and as always, THANK YOU for your emails, posts and for helping us spread the word. God is using you guys to bless our socks off...and we are SO grateful!

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Introducing {The Studio} Art Workshops in Rockford, IL & a Giveaway!

 

Introducing {The Studio} Music, Theatre & Arts for Rockford, Illinois

Today, I am ridiculously excited and filled with every joyful adjective you can possibly imagine {and a little ball of nerves in the pit of my belly} to announce that we are officially business owners. 

I could blab on and on (I'm a writer, after all) but this video pretty much sums it up:

 

Though our website is in the making with many cool additions up and coming, we have some pretty exciting stuff hanging out at www.thestudiorockford.com {Classes...Camps...Art Workshops...} and we'd love for you to check it out! 

Most of all, we'd love to connect with YOU. 

Let's Celebrate!

We're spending a whole week giving away some of our very favorite prizes, both here on my blog and on our brand spankin'-new Facebook Page! 

Here's the deal. I've got both local and non-local giveaways that you can win in a number of ways. Someone might just win one for being a certain number "Liker" on our page. Someone might win for leaving a comment on this blog post. We're going to be doing drive-by contests & week-long contests so check back, like and share often! 

The first giveaway has a little something to do with this: 

Performing Arts Camp for ages 6-12.

You can read all about it on our placeholder website. And if you're local, we'd LOVE for you to sign your kids up! Because we can hardly wait to hear little tiny voices singing "Do You Wanna Build a Snowman", today we're going to give away a spot in Camp Frozen to ONE lucky Liker on our Facebook Page.

How do I enter?

Simply head over to Facebook. Like the Studio. Come back to this post & leave a comment to let us know you did and you're entered! {easy, right?} 

Maybe you, like me, would LOVE additional chances to win. I'm happy to oblige. 

1. Share this giveaway and/or The Studio Facebook page on YOUR Facebook Page, Tweet, Blog, Instagram or Pin this giveaway then come back here on this post and leave another comment for each one you do. That's FIVE additional chances to WIN!

But what if I don't live in Rockford? 

We're so glad you asked! We'd still love to have you keep up with The Studio {Especially since our dream doesn't end in our hometown...}

Follow the same rules but your prize will be a personalized original doodle art print, kind of like this one, only just for you:

AND one of these bad boys:

Our goal is to shout it from the rooftops, but we have a feeling we're going to get a little hoarse, so we need your help! (if you're up for it) 

We're so excited to spend the week telling you the rest of our story because we've got so much fun stuff planned and LOTS more to give away! 

We'll see you over on Facebook all week long. 

Oh, and thanks for dreaming big with us. 

Decking Our Walls

From our family to yours...

 

Wishing you a joy-filled, peaceful season...with a little bit of fun sprinkled in for good measure. 

A Wall of Kindness

You may or may not know that my husband and I write and direct musicals. We're currently in the middle of putting up our third original musical, Grimm, and already it's been a learning experience for me. 

Every time we do a show like this I learn something, and this time, I'm learning that doing shows like this is important work. Not just fun or light-hearted, but important. We're creating an environment in which kids are beginning to discover their gifts. They're making choices--big ones, small ones--that all add up to who they are as people. 

We're building self-confidence and God-esteem into young hearts, and perhaps I'd taken that too lightly. 

This weekend we introduced something called "The Kindness Wall." I've been really caught up in the whole idea of kindness, curious why some people choose to treat people any other way. I'm baffled by hurtful words. Baffled when people choose to be mean or speak ugly about other people. Baffled how we can let our own issues interfere with the things we do or say in regards to others. 

It breaks my heart to think that any of these kids might actually believe the lies other people tell about them... and yet, if I'm honest, there are lies I've believed about myself, so I suppose I can't expect anything else, right? 

The kindness wall is a simple roll of paper with a bunch of sticky notes on it. Each note has its own message...things like:

You are Loved. You are beautiful. You are talented.
You matter. You are unique. You are called. 

The only rule is that you can take any note, whatever you need most that week...but you have to write something encouraging for someone else. You just don't know when a kind word will turn someone's day around. 

Whenever I do something like this, I have no idea if the kids are going to think it's the coolest thing ever or if they're going to think I'm ridiculous and look at me like I've got an arm growing out of my head... but

Sometimes you just have to jump in headfirst and
Do what God tells you to do...

So, that's what I did.

Found on Pinterest

After rehearsal, a little girl came up to me. I don't know her yet, this is the first time I've worked with her. She's probably eight, one of the youngest in our cast. She said, "I wrote about six of those notes."

Me: You did? That's awesome. I bet they'll be just what someone needs.

Her: I'm going to look next week and see if any of them are gone.

This almost made me cry. 

Me: Did you take any for yourself?

Her: Yes. I took two. One of them really inspired me.

Me: (again, near tears) It did? Which one? 

Her: The one that says You are not alone. Because sometimes I feel like I'm really alone. 

She looked away then, for a minute, then looked back me with a broken smile. I hugged her and told her that she's never alone, and she especially not alone around here because we love having her in the show. She smiled, hiked her backpack on her shoulder and skipped away.

Leaving her fingerprint on my heart. 

Positivity is a Choice. {Consider Yourself Challenged.}

There's something I've been thinking about a lot lately, something that's been prodding me, gnawing at me, a challenge I'm about to issue to myself (and anyone reading this.) And it frightens me a little. 

See, I'm not what you'd call an optimist. In fact, I'd describe myself (sadly) as a glass half empty kind of girl. 

It's not one of my better traits, but I'm working on it. 

It's easy for me to see the negative. In myself. In my body. In my situation. How many gifts and blessings have I failed to see because of that? Answer: too many. 

We're a society that loves to complain. Have you ever noticed that? We're full of entitlement and when our feathers are ruffled, we ask to see the manager, demand our money back, write letters to local goverment officials detailing what went wrong and why it needs to be fixed. Are we wrong? Sometimes. It's easy to put a spin on something that's offended us or challenged us in some way. Sometimes not. Sometimes we receive bad service or there's a hair in our food. 

But the question is in our intent. 

Last week, we spent a lot of time at the doctor. Various doctors, in fact, because our five-year-old decided to stick a plastic bead in his ear. We had a really terrible experience at Immediate Care. It was wretched. It made all of us cry. It was hard to recover from. 

It was tempting to complain to someone. Whoever was in charge. Someone ought to know what we went through. Listen to me! I have something to say! 

But then we had an amazing ER doctor who did everything right. She was so good, in fact, that Sam is still talking about her. And she didn't even get the bead out! But we loved her. Because she did everything the way we wanted her to. 

It wasn't until I received a survey from the hospital that I realized I hadn't told anyone there what a good experience we'd had in the ER, but I'd seriously contemplated letters and tyrades to Immediate Care outlining all they'd put us through. (It's not my style, so I didn't, but this is all about intent.)

I realized something about myself, about our culture. We are quick to point out other people's mistakes and slow to point out the good. Meaning, when things go well, we rarely pass along the compliment, but when things go badly, it's the first thing we do. 

Why is that? Why is it so much easier to complain than it is to offer praise? 

It's easy to ask for a manager in a restaurant when we have terrible service or bad food. But how often do we ask to see the manager just to tell them how wonderful those things were? 

It's easy to call up a teacher and tell them about something they've done (or not done) that we don't agree with and demand they get it fixed, thank you very much, but does it cross our minds to send them a note saying, "Gosh, I'm thankful my son/daughter has you this year"? 

Why is it so hard to choose kindness? To spread love? To assume the best? Why do we not think to pass on those compliments to the people supervising the hairdresser, the waitress, the teacher? In a world where good service is rare, shouldn't we make a point to express our gratitude when something goes well instead of always looking for ways to point out what went wrong? 

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So here's my challenge. For a week (longer if you can), look for ways to bless people through your words. Look for ways to extend grace, to offer praise, to pass along compliments. If you receive good service. If you haven't told your child's teacher yet this year. If a coach makes a hard decision--even one you don't necessarily agree with. Pass along the compliment. To them. To their supervisor. To your children. Choose to be kind. 

Because kindness moves mountains. And negativity digs holes. 

The Blog That's Supposed to Be About CK's Mixed Media Scrapbooking Vol. 2 {but is more of a tale of woe}

I'm not going to lie. It's been a crazy-weird, very frustrating week.

So, before I blog about what I'm really here to blog about (the image on the left is a nice little hint) I have to recap. I'm hoping the brain dump will allow me to properly move on to a perfectly uneventful day.

It started with our minivan. Because all good farces start with a minivan.

The electric door stopped working this past summer, and part of its breaking down process was to beep-beep-beep at a high-pitched, face pace, whether the door was open or not. 

Fun way to drive. My dad (who is a mechanic) disconnected it and we thought we were home free. An old school, but still working, non-beeping door.

Then Monday happened. The beeping started up in the carpool line. I'm no expert, but driving with a constant dinging could be worse than waterboarding. Earplugs, loud music, iTunes... nothing made much difference. 

Tuesday I met my mom to switch cars. I got her nice, quiet, smooth riding Equinox with crazy giddy-up that allows me to win any and all passive aggressive road races, and she took my alarm clock of a van back to my dad. 

Then I picked up Sam. His teacher told me he stuck a bead in his ear during rest time. I refuse to relive the three different doctor visits, three different attempts to get the stupid thing out of his ear, but suffice it to say, there was a papoose, a screaming child, weeping parents, one too many medical decisions, a long pair of metal tweezers, a waiting room of wide-eyed patrons wondering what they were doing back there to my child, a strip of Green Lantern stickers, a bit too much eating out, a Dr. Pepper in a moment of weakness...or maybe two...and finally, eventually, a little green bead pulled out by a handsome doctor on a Wednesday afternoon. 

As if that weren't enough excitement, yesterday I discovered a mouse in my house. Just sitting on the landing of the stairs staring at me like he wanted to be our pet. 

He didn't really. He just wanted to scare the living daylights out of me. And he did. I'll just tell you, he didn't have a very good night. 

This morning I went over the many things I have to be thankful for...and there are many...and it made me feel better. 

Things like, being included in a fabulous publication like CK's Mixed Media Volume 2. I don't do a lot of scrapbooking anymore, mostly because I've been writing and focusing more on mixed media and my art classes (did you know I have a 20% off coupon in my etsy shop right now? Read more about it here on Shannan's blog.) 

But this special issue of Creating Keepsakes is all about mixed media techniques. I love mixing different techniques into my artwork and love how easily you can pull that into your scrapbooking. For this assignment, I got to work with glass beads...here's a peek:

Typically, I shy away from glitter and beads because they can be kind of messy, but once everything was glued down nice and tight, I realized I've been missing out and I kind of love this whole look!  

I love CK's special publications because they're always packing their issues full with sooo much talent. In this magazine, you're going to find some serious inspiration, many of whom are blogging about their projects yesterday and today.

Here's a list of awesomeness for you to check out:  

Candy Rosenberg
Sherry Mendoza
Teri Anderson
Stephanie Ackerman
Sharon Laakkonen
Layle Koncar
Marion Smith
Noel Culbertson
Angela Magnuson
Julie Fei-Fan Balzer
Susan Weckesser 
Ronda Palazzari
Agnieszka Bellaidea
Stacy Cohen
Liz Hicks
Kim Watson 
Ashley Harris

I love these girls and their work (and their blogs) are so inspiring. If you're looking for some new ways to incorporate Mixed Media into your scrapbooking or other art projects, this is a great place to start! 

For Those Who Are Disappointed...

This past weekend, Adam and I spent many, many hours at auditions, call-backs and casting for Spotlight Youth Theater's upcoming production of Grimm. Adam and I wrote the show and we're directing/musically directing, and frankly, the next ten weeks will likely be the most exhausting, wonderful, memorable and inspiring of 2013 for me. 

We labored over the call-back, cast and cut lists, working over twenty hours to prayerfully decide where each of the 116 kids who auditioned best fit in the grand scheme of the show. 

And it was hard. 

My own kids best fit in ensemble groups. Sophia had been called back for a couple of the secondary leads, and while we explained that we were looking to cast these parts older, we wanted her to do her very best. And she did. And she killed it. SO many of these kids killed it. And even though she knew she was young for the roles, I think there was a part of her that had her hopes up. 

So when the cast list came out, I didn't know how she'd feel. She handled it suprisingly well, especially after we told her all the fun numbers she got to do...but then last night before bed, she asked, "Mom, is it okay that I'm a little disappointed?" 

And I prayed that I hadn't given her the impression that it wasn't okay to be disappointed...

And it got me thinking about all the kids who killed it but didn't walk away with a role. And I wished I could explain how the giant puzzle of casting a show works itself out. I wished I could tell each one of them how amazing they were...because let me tell you, these were amazing, talented kids. 

I was so excited to get our cast list up, I think I forgot how that disappointment really feels...like a punch in the gut. 

And it made me think about something I haven't been completely honest about here on my blog...a disappointment of my own that gives me a special ability to relate to what some of our kids are feeling right now. 

You might remember that I've been writing a new series with Guideposts Books (they also published my Sweethaven series.)

I spent several months on the first book and fell in love with my characters and the setting and the new town I'd created...I'd already brainstormed marketing plans and got very excited about the prospect of launching this new series in March of 2014. 

And then the day before my deadline, I found out Guideposts was canceling their fiction line and my book wouldn't be published after all. 

And in that moment, it felt a little like a punch in the gut. 

If I'm honest, I think it was on that exact day I lost the desire to blog...because I didn't know if I could say anything about it and I don't really know how to be anything but honest. How did I go on blogging and not share this huge disappointment that left me in such limbo? 

I suppose in some ways you could say, I was a tiny bit heartbroken...because I didn't understand why I'd worked so hard for something that wasn't going to come to pass. 

I'd put myself out there, the same way these kids had, and I don't think I ever really let myself be okay with being disappointed. Part of me wanted to pack it up, hide my head in the sand and never try again... And while I usually like to tell these stories once I know the ending, at this moment, I don't. 

I don't know what will become of my manuscript, but I do know that even in the midst of these disappointments, God has an incredible plan...and I have no intention of walking away from that.

...because I'm dying to know how this chapter of my story ends. 

And I wonder if that's what's going to happen with this show...that as we begin to put it all together, each disappointment will fall away and be replaced by a new understanding of just exactly what God had in store all along. 

So yes, it's perfectly okay to be disappointed. But just know that God still has a plan and he's still at work...and no, he hasn't overlooked or forgotten you. 

And he never will. 

Remember that one time when you fell...?

My life seems to be getting less and less interesting by the day. 

For the past four days, I've been sitting or laying in pretty much the exact same position, nursing my bulging disc back in place because I don't have time to have a bulging disc. I don't have time to be in pain 24/7. But then, who does? 

All this laying around got me thinking about when I started having back trouble in the first place...and I think I figured it out. 

How could I have not realized it up until this point...this story is one of those that gets told periodically at family functions when it's my turn to be embarrassed... 

I had just given birth to my third and most difficult child. Everything about Sam has been harder than my older two. Even the pregnancy was more challenging. When he finally arrived, they moved me out of the birthing suite and into a regular room. After not too many minutes, I had to use the bathroom. 

This might be one of those TMI stories. Maybe. 

My husband and sister were in the room with me and as far as I could tell my epidural had mostly worn off. Yes, I had an epidural. I would attribute my back pain to that if it weren't for what happened next. (Although, I will tell you they did botch that epidural and punctured my dura which meant spinal fluid leaked into my blood stream for days...could that be a factor?) 

I digress. 

I needed to use the facilities so I asked Adam to help me to the bathroom. He walked me in and I realized one of my legs was still very numb, almost to the point of being dead weight, but when you gotta go, you gotta go. So I went. I had him escort me to the threshhold of the bathroom and then I told him I was fine. I could sit down on the toilet by myself thankyouverymuch. 

He said, "Are you sure? This is no time to be modest." 

And it wasn't. After you give birth, you think everyone will forget the whole visual experience but no one really does. 

Still, I had delusions of decency and made him leave. 

As soon as he did, I attempted to sit down and that's when I realized you actually need two legs to do that successfully. 

Instead of sitting, I fell straight down on the tile floor, landed directly on my tail bone, scraped my back on the toilet and seemed unable to get myself back up. (Remember, I just gave birth probably an hour before this so I was already sore. TMI.) 

Adam rushed back in and called the nurse, an older lady who was not happy with me. She wanted to know what in the world I was thinking hobbling to the bathroom by myself and didn't I know not to get out of bed without help? 

Of course not, I told her. I had help. My husband. 

She gave him a once-over, unimpressed. 

So here I am, years later, the memory of that fall, that cracking sound, still echoing in my ears. It's left me wondering if someone should've X-rayed my tailbone, if that could've contributed to the never-ending back issues I've had ever since and what on earth I'm supposed to do about it now. 

Could it be that my bladder is to blame for all this subsequent pain? 

I'm not even sure how to find out...but I figured sharing an embarrassing story was a great way to kick off this fine Labor Day. Hope you're out enjoying yours! 

The Last First Day of Kindergarten

I think I'm filled with a random smattering of emotion today, largely due to the fact that we dropped our youngest off for his first day of kindergarten this morning. 

He was all smiles until he got there, and I could see him looking around at all the kids he didn't know, and it sort of broke my heart. How easy it is to put myself back there, that angsty nagging that settles in your stomach when you feel like you don't fit in. 

As a side note, I wonder if that ever goes away. 

I knew he'd end up having the best day ever because he has one of my all-time favorite teachers ever, but I also knew I wasn't going to be there to make SURE of that, and when I left him, still in tears, I had to swallow a few of my own. 

And I'm really not a cryer. Usually. 

I'm not sad for the passage of time. I love where my kids are at this moment, and to be perfectly honest, I'm almost giddy knowing I'll have a few uninterrupted writing hours every day (assuming I don't piddle them away on monotonous tasks like dishes and laundry.) But maybe that's part of the emotional tug of war going on inside me. I wonder somehow if I should feel more something about this whole milestone. 

Wistful? Sad? 

It's funny how we can beat ourselves up for the feelings we don't have as well as the feelings we do. I'm the master at all that self-loathing mumbo jumbo. 

The truth is, I'm just really super excited to see what Sam's going to do/be/turn into. He's got a very special backstory that makes me certain there is a tremendous call on his life...but his gifts and talents haven't revealed themselves yet. 

He IS only five. And he IS contending with these two hoodlums. 

Last night, he was running around the house and he hollered "16+22 is 38". 

I had to literally stop and add the numbers together air-writing them to visualize it. When I realized he was right I said, "Wait, did someone tell you that?" 

Sam: No.

Me: Then, how'd you know? 

Sam: I did a ten. You know, like 22 + 10 is 32 and then I added 6.

I kind of just stared at him for five full seconds then because I was still adding 22 + 10. I have no idea how I ended up with two number-savvy boys, but I can't help but wonder if it will all reveal itself, starting this year... with all the new things on the horizon. 

So, yes, I guess I'm a little sad but guilty that I'm not more so. The excitement I feel over the plan God has for my kids' lives is bubbling in my belly like a well-shaken fizzy drink, and I can't quite get it out of my head that this new season is going to be filled with awesome. 

Happy Last First Day of Kindergarten, Walshies. 

First day of a new school year...and I'm feelin' groovy...

Oh, Blogland. It's been awhile. 

This might just be the longest stretch I've gone without blogging, and honestly, I'm not sure what came over me. I didn't intend to take a big, fat blogging break (or I might've said something), and I'll likely pay for it in terms of readership, but sometimes you just have to get out of the desk chair that makes your back hurt and into the world of real life...

Our real life world put us right back where we started...school days. I cannot believe summer is over, but this morning I sent my two oldest out the door dressed in new uniforms and ready to start a new year. 

I wasn't thinking much of it as tomorrow is the first day of kindergarten for my youngest (translation: I'll have several uninterrupted hours during the day starting Wednesday. I'll pretend I'm not really stinking excited about that so you don't think I'm a heartless mom...) 

But on the way to school, Ethan told me he was really nervous for fourth grade. 

Suddenly, my heart dropped and I realized I hadn't done much probing to find out how he was feeling about changing classes for the first year or being in the enrichment program (which is more challenging) or being in a new school building. 

And even though I know they'll do just fine and fit right in, there's that part of me that wishes I could keep them home with me a little while longer. 

Oh, they're ready for structure again (and so am I!) and they're ready to get back to learning... but I do miss them when they're gone. 

A lot. 

Especially now that we know Sophia's actually a pretty funny kid. (Who knew?!) 

She's more like me than Adam, so the silly side of her never really came out until recently. 

Perhaps it was the silly part she played in Hercules. 

Or the discovery of Miranda Sings. 

 

She does a ridiculous impression of Miranda, her new hero. 

This makes for interesting pre-school photo-taking. 

I'm excited to see what 7th grade brings for her. 

And what fourth grade brings for this guy:

And what silence brings for a not-quite-sentimental-enough mom. 

I know. Tomorrow I might feel differently dropping Sam off at Kindergarten, but for now, I'm going to go do something uninterrupted. 

Like watch Gossip Girl. Or fold clothes. Or paint. Or rearrange furniture. Or eat bon bons. 

Ah...the possibilities are endless.

Happy First Day of School to me! 

 

For Those Who Need Joy

The other night I realized I only have my kids home with me until August 19th. Then, they're off to school, including my baby who starts kindergarten in the fall. 

I always thought I'd be just fine when Sam started school full time, and I think eventually I will be but the thought of not having them here with me during the day doesn't make me leap for joy. It actually makes me really sad. 

That's not to say there aren't days I want to pawn them off for a few hours. There definitely are, but last night, while I sat on my screened in porch reading the last bits of Becky Wade's Undeniably Yours, (highly recommend), my attention was drawn to the happy sounds of my boys, splashing and shouting their way around our really unimpressive swimming pool. 

I'm not a particularly sentimental person so these moments often escape me. I don't take time to sit and watch my kids. More often than not, I'm shuttling them around through the day, the sound of my internal clock ticking like two erasers being clapped together in rhythm.  

What is it about that darn clock? And when will I ever learn to relax? 

I clicked through these photos of the kids, my own as well as my nieces and nephews (sans two) looking for one my mom could hang on her wall. She wanted a nice photograph of her grandkids. 

I'm honestly not sure whether or not we got a nice photograph, but we did get a lot of happy ones. These, when the kids started making inappropriate armpit noises and cracking up on my parents back hill, are my favorite of the bunch. 

They are sheer joy. 

I want to live like that. I seem to reserve laughter, storing it up like a conspiracy theorist preparing for a nuclear war. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why do I do that? Why can't I let go? Laugh with the same reckless abandon that children do? More importantly, how do I ensure that my own kids don't lose their ability to do so? 

As summer begins to wane, I'm going to give in a  little more to the joy that sometimes bubbles inside, the joy I push down or am afraid to feel. I'm going to set my work aside more often to watch my kids as they play and splash and scream and drip water in puddles all over my kitchen floor. 

And while I do think we ended up with a nice photograph...

I've decided that this is the one I'm going to frame: 

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For Those Who Are Weary

My wish for you...

Today I'm wishing you fistfuls of hand-picked flowers {from the neighbor's yard}...

Belly laughs at silly things...

A grand new sense of adventure...

And time spent in whatever place you find the most peace...

With people you love...

Because those are the things that matter most of all. 

For Those Who Are Waiting To Be Noticed {you already have a spot on the team}

I always thought my boys would be baseball players. Having been raised in a baseball family, I assumed that we, like my parents before us, would spend our summers at the ball park, cheering on our would-be Major Leaguers. 

So when it came time to sign up for baseball this summer, I was shocked when Ethan told us he didn't want to play. 

"Well, you have to do something active," I told him, hoping he'd see the light and sign up out of guilt.

 Imagine my surprise when he said, "Then I want to play soccer." 

Especially since soccer is the ONE sport neither Adam or I wanted our kids to play.  But I believe in letting the kids choose what makes them happy, so I thought, Let's do it. 

Last night, sitting on the sidelines, thankful to be out of the writing cave and loving what had to be a record-breaking beautiful day...I found myself actually enjoying soccer. Even the lady parked next to the goal doing underwear-showing floor exercises provided entertainment. 

And then I realized something. As the boys got in to their clumps, kicking at that ball, striving to get it in the goal, Ethan regularly ran along the perimeter of the action, waving a hand as if to ask permission to get in the game. 

He'd run alongside his teammates, hand in the air, as if to say "is it okay if I kick the ball too?" 

Ethan is such a kind-hearted kid, so it didn't really surprise me that he didn't want to take away anyone else's chance at a kick or two. I've seen him do this before, running up to the ball, realizing someone else was running to, then stepping out of the way as if to say "Oh, you go ahead and take a turn."

That's not to say he's not playing hard and doing a great job. In one game, he head-butted (is that the term?) the ball to a teammate who then kicked a goal.  Awesome!

But some of the very same qualities I admire in my son are the ones that could potentially hinder him in this sport. What a delicate balance. 

More than anything, Ethan needs to feel like he's a part of this team. That he's allowed to get in there and go for it, to take the ball away from the other team, to take a shot at a goal, to risk being a star...

It's like so many of us, isn't it?

Waiting on the sideline for someone to pass us the ball instead of getting in there and going for it? Hand in the air, we ask for permission to do the thing our heart is begging to do...If someone would just give us a chance, we could be great. 

If only someone--anyone--would toss a glance in our direction and tell us it's okay to go for it. 

But sometimes I think we don't get the chance because we don't take it. In all our politeness, we fail to realize that we're here for a reason. We're here shine and when we allow our fears to darken our light, when we give in to the voices that tell us we're not good enough or worthy enough or we have no right to want what we want...

Everything inside us that makes us unique and special starts to wither and die. 

Don't we have a duty to get in the game? To realize that we are entitled to a spot on the team? 

Today, make up your mind to stop running around the perimeter of your dreams. Tell yourself it's okay to go for it. Figure out what's stopping you and shove it to the back of your mind. 

You only get one chance to live this life. Live it out loud. 

Meanwhile...I am still alive...

This may be the longest I've ever gone without a blog post, and despite my absence, I actually do have a lot to share...and I miss blogging. So much. At the same time, it was nice to take a little break. Sometimes I put too much pressure on myself. 

Anyway, last week, we surprised the kids (big time):

...with our first "real" family vacation. We'd gone away for a few days/nights and did a great Staycation once, and of course we had lots of trips to/from Colorado when we lived there... but this was the first time I'd say we were on vacation. 

BUT...the day before we went, I had my first Mother/Daughter Art Class:

It was SO fun for so many reasons. First, I love moms and daughters creating together... my love for creating with my kids is the main reason I started doing classes, so it's FUN to see other people doing it (and loving it) too! 

Also, I got to see four of my college friends who I hadn't seen in years and years...

We were sorority sisters (Gamma Phi!) and I honestly felt like we were all back in the sorority house hanging out. It was like no time had passed...and certainly not fifteen years! 

Am I that old?! 

The class was a huge hit and mother/daughter classes are on the schedule for the summer for sure. 

But after everyone left, I had Disney on the brain. I spent Mother's Day doing last minute packing/shopping/hiding/lying to my children...and by Monday afternoon, we were in the Magic Kingdom. 

I have LOTS to say about Disney World, but that's a post for another day... for now, let me just say, it was FUN. And our family needed the break. 

Ethan and I just after riding Everest at Animal Kingdom:

Here's the kids in front of Cinderella's castle on our last day there:

Sadly, the night before we flew home, I slipped a disc unplugging the drain in our bathtub. I made it through the airport with the help of my family and a wheelchair (no joke) but cried as soon as I reached my seat on the plane. 

It was a hard, hard trip home... the next night, I made it through my Girl's Art Night Out (sitting down and moving very slowly...) and it ended up being a ton of fun:

Those are just a few snippets from the night...and it just reminded me of how very much fun I am having doing these classes. 

So, I've spent most of this {very busy} week laying down or going to the chiropractor and I'm sad to say my back is still not 100%, but it is improving, so at least there's that...but I couldn't sit long enough to edit photos, so it's been really hard to get anything done. 

I did manage to capture this beauty, though for the life of me I can't remember where she was going all dressed up:

And last night, I got this guy, right before he graduated from pre-school:

I cannot believe next year I will be home alone all day long. {I have mixed feelings about this.} Sam had such a great teacher this year:

This weekend, we are consumed with Spotlight's production of Les Mis. It's going to be an incredible show, so if you're local, I hope you'll get tickets! 

Also, if you're local, be SURE to stop by Urban Farmgirl this weekend. I'm thrilled some of my art is available at her store, but beyond that, the store changes every weekend she's open. Thereare so many amazing, one-of-a-kind vintage finds there...it's just such a wonderful addition to Rockford!!

So, that's the quick version of my update....more when I can sit upright for more than a half an hour at a time! 

I miss you guys! 

Dear Teenager, Abercrombie Thinks You're Shallow...

Dear Abercrombie Target Audience,

That’s you, thin girl. Pretty girl. Member of the in-crowd. That’s you, athlete. Apparently, according to Grand Master Idiot Mike Jeffries, you are the only people beautiful enough to wear his clothes. You are the only people with enough worth and value to slide into a pair of Abercrombie shorts (as long as you’re no larger than a size 10.) Unless you’re a guy. Then you can be an XXL because you’re likely a football player.

And everyone knows that football players are the epitome of cool.

I know it’s challenging in high school to think about anything other than what you’re wearing and how cool you are…or maybe that’s just what Mike Jeffries wants to believe.

Maybe he doesn’t know the real you. Maybe he’s forgotten that you are a generation that loves deeply, that believes in respecting each other, that sees the differences in those around you and celebrates them rather than viewing these unique qualities as something to be called out and mocked.

Maybe he hasn’t been clued in that your generation cares less about clothing and more about feeding starving orphans in Africa. Or maybe he doesn’t see the way you pursue those gifts God has so happily given to you—music, art, athletics, science, math… gifts that could lead you to uncover the greatness inside you.

Because that’s who you’re striving to be, isn’t it? A girl more focused on her brain than her boobs? A boy who values his creativity rather than his biceps? Because let me tell you something, it’s these things that set you apart. Sure, it’s great if you’ve got a pretty face or you fall into society’s idea of “beautiful” but the truth is, none of that really matters all that much once you get out of high school.

The people who change the world don’t have time to worry what other people think of them. And they sure don’t have time to agonize over what brand name their clothes are.  

I know you’re too young to know this now, but someday you’ll be surrounded by people who are far more impressed with your brain than your looks, and those are the people that matter.

I challenge you to show Mike Jeffries and the rest of the country that your generation is smarter than mine. Be the generation that demands a change. The generation that stops bullying, that values the things with lasting worth. That understands that there is more to every person than what you see when you meet them. That chooses kindness. 

Always.

We all have a story. Make it your mission to find out someone’s story before you make up your mind about them.

For more of the heinous misjudgments put out by Abercrombie, click HERE.

You’re smarter than Abercrombie and Fitch understands. Smart enough to call them on their wrong thinking and make them see the real you. The leaders of tomorrow who are already leaders today.

And lest you think I’m just a bitter old lady (and if you know me, you know it takes a lot to get me fired up), I can tell you that size-wise, I could absolutely shop at Abercrombie and Fitch. And so could my husband and so could my daughter and eventually my sons. I wasn’t a social outcast in high school. I’m not bitter or angry.

But I have seen how this kind of hateful message is destroying our children, our teens, our future.

Be better than this, young person. Because you are better than this.

The Simple Life...Birthday & Easter Edition

Sophia realized several weeks ago that her birthday fell on Easter this year. Twelve years was something to celebrate, but Easter meant commitments and none of them the birthday kind. 

So, we kind of stretched her birthday out over the entire weekend. We took the kids to our favorite pizza place, Giordano's. It was great to get back to Family Friday after the show.

Pictures of that HERE on my instagram. (Are you on instagram?) 

Sophia is hard to shop for this year. She told me she wanted "socks and underwear" (neither of which I ended up getting her. I completely forgot.) What do you do with that, anyway? I can't really get her socks and underwear!

Instead, we got her a "magic purse." It was stuffed with gift cards (this is a great way to stay on budget) and a little bit of cash for her to spend on a shopping trip, which is what we did all day Saturday.

I loved spending the day with her, searching for dresses, which is mostly what she wanted to buy. (She ended up with four!) 

I opted not to go crazy over the top for Easter this year. We didn't budget for lots of Easter basket stuff (and my mom does those at her house) and I wanted to get the kids clothes they'd wear again. I feel a bit like I'm losing tradition, but it suited us this year...

Even though I didn't really get one great photo of all three of my hooligans. 

I knew better than to try to force the boys into "fancy clothes" (as Sam says) anyway...

As it was, I thought we might run into trouble when he decided his jacket was "a girl color." 

Clearly, he's taken to posing for pictures...can you tell?

He could give his dad a pointer or two.

We had a good weekend. A family weekend. Reconnecting and reminding us what's important... sometimes it's easy to get caught up in trying to do so much but really I just want simple. It's my new quest. 

Peaceful wins out over stressful every day of the week...don't you agree? 

Sophia and I closed out her birthday with a movie. We stayed up till 11 because she doesn't have school today and I loved every second of it. 

I'm proud of the girl she's becoming...someone who is independent and confident, who doesn't seem to care too much what other people think or say. I love and envy this about her. What a blessing she is in my life. 

Happy Birthday, Peanut. You Shine. You Shine. You Shine. 

Snow Day {And A New Adventure}

So, yesterday we were completely snowed in. School was called off the night before and our kids still got up at 6:30. 

Someone needs to educate them in the appropriate way to enjoy a snow day.

It snowed all day, and we ended up getting a good foot. Since we're at the end of a cul-de-sac, we now have a mountain of snow in front of our house. 

The kids are in heaven.

I've lived in Illinois my entire life, and this is the first year I just HATE driving in this stuff. I think it's because my van doesn't handle so well and I get stuck a lot. (Which means I hold up traffic and if you know me in real life, you know I hate to hold other people up. I sweat and get all flushed in the face.) 

Never mind the insane amount of people who don't care if they hold me up...for whatever reason I am genetically engineered to worry. 

Even about being in people's way on the road. Or in the grocery store. Or in line at the bank. 

Notice I took all these photos from inside the house. 

My son was out playing in it, but came in soaked to the gills. 

(Is that a real saying? "Soaked to the gills"?) 

Anyway, everyone needed the day of good rest. I didn't wear make-up or shower till about 5 p.m. The kids lounged around in p.j.'s and drank warm drinks, then closed out the night with a rousing game of Disney's Scene It. 

I won. :) (And trust me, that never happens!) 

Highly recommend this game for families. It's really SO fun! 

Anyway, I do have a bit of  big(ish) news to share...I made a decision to do something I always talk myself out of doing... I started an etsy shop. 

There are a million reasons NOT to do this (and believe me, I've thought of them all...) but I guess I sort of realized that just because I'm a writer (and that IS my primary focus) doesn't mean I shut off the other things I love. I think sometimes we get so focused on the advice we receive we forget that none of us fits perfectly into a box. 

For instance, it would seem that I should focus solely on building my brand as a writer...and that seems to be the most logical thing to do...but I'm a novelist who likes to create...so who says I can only do one or the other? (This is me talking myself into it again...) 

My shop isn't open yet and I haven't thought of a name, but I've ordered supplies and things are moving. 

And yes, once again, I'm filled with doubt and insecurity. 

Someone tell me I'll outgrow this, please?

I'm going to be selling original mixed media canvases and prints and possibly some of my dad's handmade wooden goods (candle holders, jewelry boxes, cutting boards)...I'm still working to get him to sign the release forms to let me boss him around. 

So far, he's not having it. 

I don't know how any of it will go...I just know that it's something I want to do, so why not, right? 

Do you have something you've been wanting to try but haven't (because of time/money/inexperience or anything else?) What is it and what keeps you from moving forward? I'd love to hear...maybe we can hop into this journey together...?

Stay warm out there, friends!

 

 

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Goodbye, February {In Pictures}

Today, we're snowed in. It's the day I've been praying for...a day off for everyone. I've neither showered nor put on make-up. And my kids want pancakes for lunch. 

It seems like a gift, almost, after the past few weeks. February was a full one. The kind of month where you just stare at your husband, shake your head and go, "Seriously? What next?" 

Don't you love those months? 

I thought I'd share a few highlights (and lowlights)...because I've hit a blog wall...and I'm interested in disengaging my mind. So here it is. 

We shuffled Cupid-style with 87 of the coolest kids we know. 

We've spent every weekend with these kids...and we're almost ready for our opening night, which is only a week(ish) away. If you're anywhere near Rockford next week, you should come. I promise, these kids will blow you away. 

We did a table read and then revised the script and score for our third musical, Grimm, which auditions this weekend in McHenry County. 

I discovered my body handles stress by way of the canker sore. Let's just say this was an ongoing plague during the month of February. Apparently, stress is trying to be my friend. 

I'm not having it. 

Despite my fat lip(s), I still got this guy to go on a date with me. I whined a little and finally he relented. 

We saw Hairspray and loved it. 

I did a lot of painting, often with grumpy company. 

Sam wanted to duplicate one of Sophia's paintings. Both turned out really fun. He's been quite the busy little artist lately. Here's his version of Santa (one of my favorite pictures he's ever drawn. Ever.) 

But, he took a turn about a week ago...I should've known we'd be hit with the flu when this started happening:

But I was hoping it would move on past us. We didn't have time for all three kids to pass around fevers, missing school and rehearsals. 

But when you see this:

(That was Sam's)...what else do you do? 

To make matters worse, we also had several at-home injuries, all of which fell on this guy:

He ran into lightswitches, fell up (and down) stairs, had scratches, fat lips and a bevy of other ailments. 

Good times. 

Thankfully, by Valentine's Day, he'd recovered. 

I took the girl shopping for a friend's birthday gift and she started her own birthday list. I can't believe she turns twelve this month. 

I'm old.

Here she is showing off "Aunt Carrie" earrings:

Because apparently she thinks my sister only wears earrings as big as her head. 

She also added these to her list:

Grammy? 

At the suggestion of a friend, I read this book:

At the suggestion of everything good and pure in the world, I skipped reading this book:

(And seriously, just the cover of this book makes my throat itch and my eyes water...it's all...too...disturbing.) 

I directed this goofball:

(She's playing Persephone in the show...) 

And visited Urban Farmgirl again...

(FULL of cute stuff, Rockfordians...she's open again this week!) 

We played some Legos:

And I sold some artwork:

...which has me pondering an etsy shop...though that feels kind of big and scary to me right now. 

I drank lots of this:

And spent many, many hours with this guy: (one of my favorite things to do) 

And finally, I planned another art class here in town which has officially sold out! 

February was full...frustrating...overwhelming...amazing...challenging...exciting...and so much more. A mix of emotions. A heavy reminder that I can't move forward with anything on my own. 

Plenty of good mixed in with the bad. 

I have some really exciting news to share (very soon)...so who knows? Maybe March will be a different feeling altogether.

One can hope.

How was the second month of your year? 

Confessions of a Wanna-Be SuperMom

I'm supposed to be that mom. 

You know the one. The one that has it together. The one who has homemade chocolate chip cookies waiting when her kids get home from school. Somehow said cookies are still ooey, gooey and just a tiny bit warm on the inside. 

 

I was all set to let Valentine's kind of slip on by, what after killing myself to help Ethan with his wax museum project. 

He was Albert Einstein:

As we were running out the door to make it to the school on time, I remembered I still had a mustache template from Sam's "mustache day" at preschool the week before. Otherwise, good 'ol Al would've been facial hair-less. 

And yes, I did cut it out of paper, slap some tape on the back of it and stick it to his face. 

Imagine trying to give a verbal presentation with piece of curly-q'd paper stuck to your upper lip. 

Clearly I failed in the mustache department, but we actually did work on his poster together. And by "together" I mean, I told him what to cut, where to stick stuff and which pictures would look best. 

Probably should've let him have a bit of input. You know what they say about hindsight...

But I'm a total control freak. And while I really don't consider myself "competitive" there's something that happens when I know something is going on display. I don't want my kid to be the one whose poster looks like a 3rd grader made it. 

Because that would reflect badly on me. 

And yes, my friends, that is nothing but pride. 

Ugly, ugly pride. 

There's this thing in the back of my mind that says "it's okay to send him with a plain shoebox for Valentine's Day. You don't really have time for much else." (We had to do our Valentine's and go to dance class and get homework done and everyone bathed all in the space of about four hours last night. It was fairly brutal since I was single-parenting with Adam working late...) 

I'd resigned myself to being okay with whatever Ethan came up with. 

And then I got on instagram and saw the killer creations my friends were sending with their kids. We're scrapbookers, mind you, we're prone to killer creations. 

And I had nothing. No ideas. No supplies. No time. 

Ethan told me about some of the boxes that had come in and suddenly I realized if I sent him with his barely decorated, handwritten and misspelled "Valintine" box, my kid would be the lame one. 

Not on my watch. 

So, I did what I could muster, which by this time of night wasn't much. 

A lame monster box made out of old scrapbooking paper. 

And that feeling of inferiority washed over me once again. I'm failing as a mom. It actually put me in a bad mood, so even when I woke up, confronted again with jagged teeth and hand drawn googly eyes, I was annoyed with myself.

How could I fail my kid like this? 

But as I packed his lunch, I decided to tuck a little love note inside, something I used to do daily, but have gotten away from in my haste. I wanted it to be a surprise, but he came in as I was writing Sophia's. 

"What that?" he asked. 

"Oh, just a note." 

"Who's it for?" 

"Sophia." 

"Oh." I could hear the disappointment in his voice. Then, he said, "Did you write me one too?" 

I glanced up at him, and I saw hopefulness in his eyes. I smiled--my first one of the morning--"Yes, Ethan. I wrote you one too." 

He let out a fist-thumping "YES!" grabbed his backpack and said, "I'm going to read it in the car." 

He stuffed the lunchbox into his backpack and ran to get his coat, leaving me standing there, ashamed that I'd let my own pride dictate my mood for the morning. I was honestly worried about what the other moms and teachers would think, me sending Ethan to school with a lamely decorated Valentine box and pre-made Valentine's. Never mind that they had a spy decoder with them. I didn't make them myself. 

They weren't good enough. 

But none of that was about my kid. It was about me and what people would think of me. And that's ugly. 

And not how I want to live. I want to hone in on my children's needs, their emotions, their excitement...and not let my own concerns about being the mom I've created in my own head come into play. 

Slowly, surely, I'll get there...little by little, surrendering bits and pieces and becoming okay with my own imperfection...

How about you? Do you succumb to the pressures of SuperMom? 

 

Dear Eleven-Almost Twelve-Year Old Daughter,

I wish I could tell you I clearly remember what it was like to be your age, but the truth is, my memory has lapses in it, spaces that have disappeared and details that have vanished. 

If I did remember, I would like to write you a letter as my eleven-almost twelve-year-old self, because I bet we had a lot in common. I bet we would've been great friends. 

While I can't recall the typical day-to-day of sixth grade, I can recall the overarching feeling of being stuck between childhood and adulthood. I can distinctly remember how it felt to feel like no one heard my voice...to be so sure I had important things to say. 

Why won't anyone listen to me? I'm old enough to understand what everyone is talking about. I have opinions too. 

But now that I'm older, I see that was a time of great development for me. A time of learning, of figuring out who I was going to be. In some ways, it was one of the most important years of my life. 

So, I don't take any of your feelings for granted. Because everything in your world really is heightened. You feel things on a different level than someone who has lived 37 years. You are welcome to feel those feelings. I wouldn't have it any other way. 

But, I think there's something you should know. 

I am not your friend. I am your mother. There's a big difference. In my mind, God's given me a duty. To protect you. To raise you. To love you. And if I simply brush off bad behavior or sass-talk, blaming it on hormones, I don't feel like I'm doing my job. 

This is a really trying time for every girl. You haven't quite become responsible, so I have to nag a little. You don't want to be told what to do, so we sometimes butt heads. You haven't fully grasped what it is you're supposed to learn...and many days, neither have I. 

The truth is that while I'm not your friend, you might think that I'm your enemy. Nothing could be further from the truth. I am your cheerleader. I am your confidant. I am your teacher. Your role model. Your dance partner. 

I'm the one that will hold you when you experience your first broken heart. I'm the one who creates a safe place for you right here in this house...a place where you can laugh, cry, struggle, fail, fall flat on your face and still know that you will always be loved.

Always.

To that end, I must tell you, in hindsight, I do have one regret--vivid in my pieced-together memory.  I wish I'd learned sooner to appreciate the family God gave me. The mom who wasn't my friend (yet), the dad who worked hard to provide for our family and prayed over us every day, the brother and sister who pushed every last one of my buttons but have since become two of my favorite people in the world. 

I wish I'd cherished them and treated them as though they were my safe haven...because in retrospect, they were. 

This family is your spring board. This home is your foundation. And we will do everything we can to make absolutely sure to create the perfect environment to launch you into whatever God has for you, but I implore you now...please see us for who we are.

People, with feelings, oozing with love for you. 

Let us be a part of your journey...even the ugly parts that twist your stomach into knots. Because when you cry, I will cry. And when you celebrate, I will celebrate. And when you can't speak, I will hold you. 

Because I'm your mother.

And you will forever be mine. 

And I wouldn't have it any other way. 

A Soul at Rest

This weekend was an incredibly busy one for Adam and I. While a part of me wished I was off at CHA with the rest of my artsy friends, I knew there was something that needed to be done here. 

Auditions for the new musical we're directing. 

I'm sure this won't be the last time I talk about Hercules because it's a show we wrote and because I always learn so much from the kids I direct... and this weekend was no exception. 

Friday night, we filtered into a very warm room in a local church where we held auditions. Nearly 100 kids took their turn getting up on the stage and singing their little hearts out... and we smiled and watched and recorded thoughts and over and over I kept thinking the same thing. 

It takes incredible bravery to do what they're doing up there. 

Occasionally, one of the kids would cry--either before or after their performance. Always we went to them to tell them not to worry...because they'd done such a good job just by getting up there. 

It occurred to me with one child in particular, that there was enough fear to bring about a pretty steady diet of tears for a few very long minutes... 

He was scared...but he did it anyway. Nine years old and he talked himself into being brave. 

I'm 37 and I wonder if I can do the same thing. 

I walked away feeling so encouraged and so inspired to have witnessed this kind of bravery over and over again, and I knew once again (not that I'd been doubting) that God had brought us back here for this very purpose. This is exactly what I'm meant to do in this exact moment. 

And my soul was so still for it. 

And I am blessed. 

 

The Scariest Day of My Life

I have a big imagination. Some might say I'm a bit overly dramatic. In my old(er) age, I feel I've gotten less so, but yesterday's events have me thinking twice about that. 

In the wake of the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary, I learned something about myself. I don't like to rest in pain. It's not that I'm not sympathetic or aware...it's the opposite. I can put myself there in a heartbeat. I can feel that pain--a pain so big and vicious, no one can rest there for too long. 

But some people do. They have to because that is their new reality. 

Sophia is eleven, so we've begun fielding questions like "Don't you think I'm old enough to stay home by myself?" Technically, no, she has to be twelve, but I have a responsible girl on my hands, so about three times now, I've allowed her to stay home while I run a quick errand.

I always run through my list of safety checks that include locking the door, not opening it for anyone even the mailman, and not telling anyone via text that she's home alone. 

And then I worry about her until I walk back in the door.

But not yesterday. Yesterday, she had early release from school and she wanted to eat lunch at the same time I had to run Sam to preschool. His school is literally in our back yard, so it maybe takes five minutes to drop him off.

I pulled in the driveway after dropping him and got a text from Sophia. It was a response to a text I'd sent her about coming to the back of the parking lot at her school. Apparently, she'd just gotten it half an hour later. 

I opened the door and started to tell her that the text was old but she wasn't at the kitchen table. There was the Nook she'd been reading and the dishes from lunch...but she wasn't there. 

She must be in the bathroom. 

I checked, but no sign of her. Into the front room where our laptop is plugged in. She's not there. 

I wasn't worried. She probably had headphones on and couldn't hear me. I ran upstairs to her room. Empty. Just like the boys' rooms, the two upstairs bathrooms and our bedroom.

She wasn't listening to music.

She wasn't watching TV.

She wasn't answering me when I was yelling at her--a little more frantically now.

I rushed downstairs to the bathroom...my head spinning with questions, looking for the logic. Why isn't she answering me? My office was empty. Adam's studio...empty. I even looked in the empty storage room, wondering if maybe she was playing a joke on me? 

Not a nice joke, Sophia. I'm getting scared now. Where are you? 

I run back upstairs and do another pass through. I walk outside and survey the neighborhood. Nothing. No sign of her anywhere. 

She. Is. Gone. 

My daughter is not in the house. 

Where is she? Why is she not in the house? Where else could she have gone? Are the neighbor kids home? Was the door unlocked? Were there any suspicious cars in the neighborhood when I left? Could someone have taken her in FIVE minutes? 

WHY DID I LEAVE HER ALONE???

I called Adam. I was calm for maybe two seconds. I'm still frantically searching every closet, every nook, every possible spot she could be. 

"She is not in this house. She is not here." 

Adam is calmer than me. "Ok, let me call the police." 

"No, this doesn't make sense. She has to be here. Where else could she be?" 

For that moment, neither of us knew what to do. We just sat there, no explanation. Our kids don't leave the house without permission. There is no good reason for her to be gone. 

Why is she gone? 

I have never in my life known the depth of that fear. I haven't let myself ever feel that fear--not even when Sam nearly stepped out on the highway into oncoming traffic. In that moment, there were no answers. There was no logic. 

There was just pure, deep, ugly, black fear.

And a very quiet, very empty house. 

I hung up with Adam and called my mom. "Did Sophia call you?" (She can't even understand me at this point, and in retrospect, she's probably the last person I should've called because when you hear your mother's voice, emotion just spills out 100 times greater than it would have.) I try to explain to her what's going on--that Sophia is not here. I can't even believe I'm saying these words. 

"She's just gone." I know I'm hysterical, my hands are shaking. My daughter is missing and...

Then, behind me, a voice. "MOM!" 

I spin around and see her, red-faced and cold. 

"I'm right here." 

I hang up the phone (Sorry, Mom) and call Adam, but the only thing I can say over and over again is "She's here. I've got her. I've got her." 

And my heart lurches even thinking about what could have happened--what does happen to parents because we live in this fallen world. 

And I feel a little silly for it now...that Sophia got that half-an-hour-old text and thought I meant for her to come over to the parking lot at Sam's school. That she probably walked out the back door just as I was pulling in the driveway. That she crossed a busy street (twice), wondering all the time why I was asking her to meet me at the back of Sam's parking lot...

That she was safe...

But it gave me a peek inside the horrible world of a parent's worst nightmare and I really didn't like what I saw there. 

We can't protect them 24 hours a day, and the harsh reality of that sets in like a cement block in my gut. 

And again, I'm faced with the same question I had when I first heard about the latest school shooting...Why?

Why would anyone do this? Why do bad things like this happen? 

And it drives me to my knees. Those were the longest ten minutes of my life...how do parents do this for hours...days...weeks...?

I think I scared Sophia with my hysterics, but the truth is, I'm thankful she knew how upset I would be if anything ever happened to her. I'm thankful she saw that we love her that much. 

About an hour later, after we'd calmed down and established that she was safe, she said, "See, Mom, just another reason to get me phone...it's for your sake as much as it is for mine..." 

She handed me a list of "Reasons why I should get a cell phone" and flashed me a smile. 

Gotta love a girl who seizes an opportunity.

When Your Baby Turns Five...{and you don't feel wistful about it}

You might expect a super sappy, reflective post on the fifth birthday of one's youngest child. Lord knows I might feel super sappy if I really sad and thought about how quickly five years went...

But at the same time, these may have been the five longest years of our lives thus far. 

When I was pregnant with Sam, we moved into what I thought was our forever house. Two years later we moved to a rental house in Colorado. Then we bought a house and moved again. Then we decided to move back to Illinois. That's a LOT of moving.

On top of all that, during that time, I wrote and released four books. We left full-time ministry. Adam has had three different jobs. 

It's been a long five years.

So, I don't feel particularly wistful about it. I feel thankful. This child has been full of challenges (mostly of the behavior and health variety.) He's not easy by any means. 

In fact, he's the most difficult person in my life most days...and maybe that's why he's so special to me. 

In the last year (since we've moved back here, really) we've seen such a change in him. He's happier and easier and while his allergies have kicked back up, I've been able to pause and see how far we've come. All of us, not just Sam...

So, while there is a lot of faith-stretching attributed to this boy, there is also a ton of gratitude. Sam is funny and smart and kind and I am so, so thankful he's mine. 

Happy Birthday, Mister Boy. You have my heart.

For Those Who Want to be THAT Mom...

There are these fleeting moments where I feel like that mom. You know, the one who turns all the field trip permission slips in on time. The one who makes sure their kids have one extra set of gym clothes in their locker. The one who runs spelling words the night before the test rather than in the car on the way to school. 

We see her everywhere. She's at the grocery store picking up items for that perfectly cooked homemade meal. She's the one that adds special touches to holidays--even if they are just Halloween. Her kids never have dirty faces or fingernails. 

She doesn't leave things until the last minute or mutter phrases like "Why would I spend $40 on a Halloween costume you're going to wear once?" Because she's clipped enough coupons well in advance to justify the splurge. 

She wouldn't dream of scouring closets the night before Halloween to assemble a presentable costume...and then show up in the neighborhood wearing yoga pants and smelling of the tacos she threw together moments before the first trick or treaters left their homes...

And, by no means would she allow one little boy to only consume a bagel, leaving him absolutely starving by the time he got home from collecting way too much candy in his handmade costume that borders on just plain wrong. {Is it okay to teach your kids there's such a thing as a nerd?}

I sometimes wish that was me. But it's not. 

And you know what, I'm okay with that. I don't even aspire to it anymore...because if everything was perfect, I have a feeling my family would be really, really boring. And bored. {or maybe I'm just fooling myself?}

The bottom line is, I don't think that mom exists. And if she says she does, I don't believe her. We all have messy houses sometimes. We all forget homework papers or permission slips or no-uniform days. 

Don't we? 

Maybe we're too hard on ourselves. Maybe we expect too much of ourselves. Maybe it's more important that our kids leave with a hug than with an order form for an extra gym suit. 

Maybe they're perfectly happy. Maybe they can help by cleaning up their own messes. Maybe it's time we let ourselves off the hook a little bit. Maybe your time is more valuable than your perfection. 

Maybe it's time to let some of the air out of our proverbial balloons...the ones filled with all those empty ideas of what we should be. Maybe it's okay to accept what we are...to strive to be better and to keep our eyes fixed on what really matters. 

Somehow,  I don't think our kids will look back one day upset that we forget to fill out their reading log. I think they'll be thankful for the prayers we said with them at night. The way we listened when they were upset. The kindness with which we taught them important lessons...

...let some of it go...

you are more than enough. 

Spotlight Youth Theatre, Weekend Recap & Scrapbooking Your Faith

What a FUN weekend we had! Our whole family is exhausted, but we were so thrilled with the way Schoolhouse Rock turned out. Sophia fought through some sickness/losing her voice, but it all turned out wonderfully...

People often ask us how we could leave Colorado for Illinois, and of course I then give my "I love cornfields" motivational talk which always results in that glazed over yeah, you're nuts look. 

I don't get it. There's nothing like a good cornfield in the summer. Sorry, mountain lovers. 

I'm also a sucker for Illinois in the autumn. And places that readily stock goats on rickety bridges. 

But truly, this weekend I was reminded of a big part of the reason why I am thrilled to be back here in Illinois. Working with Spotlight is one of the best things we've ever done... and the organization has been amazing for our girl. 

It's made me refocus on why theatre really is important and valuable, whether you plan to pursue it or not. 

Not only is it an excellent tool for building confidence and self esteem (when the right people are in charge), but it teaches so many important life skills. For instance, how to speak in front of a group. How to work in a team. How to think on your feet. How to stay cool under pressure. 

I can't explain how excited I am about the whole thing. Sometimes I wonder how we survived two years without it. 

Anyway. I'm geeked out and it shows.  

I'm also excited because I got to share this faith-themed layout:

...using Webster's Pages Park Drive Collection (which I LOVE) over on the Creating Keepsakes Blog today. There are lots more details on sharing a "pocket full of promises" for yourself or someone you love so I hope you'll get a chance to check it out. 

Was your weekend as full as ours? What fun things did you do with your two glorious days? :) 

Ten Things I'm LOVING right now...

In no particular order. 

1. Undaunted.

This book was recommended by a friend, and as soon as I started reading I knew Christine Caine wrote it just for me. And you. It's already challenging and inspiring and incredible. Go get it. 

2. This girl and her art. More than that, her spirit. She is beyond incredible. I want to learn from her. 

3. Being a stage mom. 

Schoolhouse Rock is this weekend, so that means we're all in show mode. I'm not just proud of my own daughter, but of all these kids...have you ever thought of putting your kids in a theatre class? Think of the valuable things they'll learn...conducting themselves in front of a group, working in a team, excellence...I could go on and on and on. I'm LOVING it.  

4. My new notebook from Target. It's actually from Carolina Pad, and it's helping me sort through a jumbled mess in my mind. What is it about a good journaling notebook? 

5. Emily Owens. MD. I caught this show last night on my DVR.

I really loved Mamie Gummer in her guest appearances on "The Good Wife" and I love that she's Meryl Streep's daughter but doesn't like to talk about it. Mostly I love how quirky and relatable she is. I found her so fun to watch. I think this is a keeper. 

6. Popcorners.

A gluten free cross between popcorn and a chip. It's ridiculous. The white cheddar is my favorite. And you have to be careful. If you're not, you'll eat the whole bag. 

That's what I'm assuming anyway. Not that I've ever done that. 

7. Finding & sharing encouraging words from my novels:

8. Giving away things on my Author Page on Facebook. (And planning for more big giveaways...as a thank you for everyone who has read or is reading my novels. Gosh, I love presents.)

9. My favorite store in the world. 

I can't explain why, but the Barnes and Noble here in Illinois feels so much more comfortable and familiar to me. I love this place. I'd go there daily if I could, but then I'd be broke because I can't go in without buying something. (Do you have a place that makes you feel instantly peaceful?) 

10. Written reminders of what God's telling me. The kind I tuck away in my journal and find just when I need them...

What are YOU loving right now??

Schoolhouse Rock Makes a Mom Do Crazy Things

Yesterday I forgot to take Sam to school. 

I'm not even joking. We'd been at the doctor in the morning for both he and Sophia, and when I found out he has this weird respiratory thing going on I thought "Should I keep him home?" But then I realized since he feels fine and it's not contagious, I should probably take him. 

He loves school. 

So there I was chatting it up with the little guy when I glanced at the clock and realized (out loud) "SAM! I forgot to take you to school!"

I must've seemed as exasperated as I felt because I plopped down next to him and said, "I really actually FORGOT about  school." 

This wasn't like a minor "I lost track of time." It was like I forgot who I was and what my job as a mom was for a minute. Thank God I didn't forget him at the grocery store or something. 

He stared at me, as if assessing the situation, then slow-shook his head. "It's okay..." he said, all the while whipping out his "calm down" hands. "It's okay..." 

I've never been consoled by a four-year-old. 

But see, we're all a little preoccupied right now. 

Our girl is performing the role of Shulie in Schoolhouse Rock Live. 

The show opens Friday night with performances all weekend long here in Rockford. 

When I found out we were moving back to Illinois, one of the first things I thanked God for was Spotlight Youth Theatre. I knew this was something Sophia needed to be a part of, and when we were in Colorado, there just wasn't the opportunity for something like this. 

With Sophia, I don't have to wonder where she fits...we've been thankful to figure that out. (The boys are a different story, but at least we've got one down.) 

And it also gave me an instant connection to her.

Something I'm thankful for as she enters the pre-teen (and later the teen) years... I mean, don't we all want a point of connection with our kids? 

Without that, I wonder, would we slip into that battle of wills at every pass? Would she feel misunderstood and frustrated because no one gets her? Because she loves this so much, I get her. And I love that I do. 

For now, anyway, Sophia is great at taking direction (even from me). We'llsee how that plays out down the road. 

But I'm proud of her. And excited for her. And impressed by her. And thankful for her. 

And apparently that makes me forget myself a little. 

Or at least, it makes me forget that my son is now in preschool. 

Geesh. 

So...what's the craziest case of forgetfulness you've had as a mom? (Or maybe I'm the only one who does stuff like this on a regular basis?) 

Am I the only one? Oy. Say it ain't so, sister. 

And come see the show. :) It's gonna be fun! 

Choose Your Battles {Stubborn Parenting of the Stubborn Child}

Yesterday should have been a day of celebration. My third book was officially released, and though many people had already received their pre-ordered copies (go you!) October 1st was THE date. 

The date the Sweethaven series was complete. 

I woke up feeling, of course, like I hadn't done enough to spread the word (after all, no one can buy your book if they've never heard of it)...I pretty much always feel that way. But in my experience, it seems that you do what you can and then you have to  let God take care of the rest. 

My release day joy was soon squelched when my daughter appeared in my room with that look on her face. 

You would think that wearing uniforms would eliminate the arguing over clothes, but that's just a myth created by private school principals. 

I love my kids in their uniforms. They're adorable. 

But I've discovered it's not so adorable when you're a sixth grader in between sizes. 

To help things run smoothly, I keep the uniforms separate from the rest of the laundry. So, Saturday, I told both kids to get their uniforms in the basket. Plenty of time to get them done before Monday. 

This is riveting blogging, folks. Stay with me. It's about to get ugly. 

Ethan, in a rare display of obedience, grabbed his uniforms almost immediately and filled the basket. Sophia did not. 

Two more times I told her "I'm doing uniforms. I need yours." Both times I was met with that grimace that said "Oops. Didn't do that yet." 

So imagine my surprise when, hours later, I sort through the uniforms and discover I only have boy clothes. My first thought was "Well, I told her..." She'd have to find out the hard way that if she wants her uniforms clean she has to do her part. 

Sophia is mostly a great kid. A little flighty when it comes to bringing homework home or putting clothes in the laundry...but mostly good. So, I'm compelled to ask myself "Why was this a battle you chose to fight?" 

Later that night, she did bring her clothes down, but by now it was Sunday evening. Adam threw her uniforms in the dryer by themselves but he failed to include one crucial thing. 

Sophia's prized navy blue undershirt. 

And friends, that is when it all started. 

To tell you it was like World War 3 in my house yesterday morning would be an understatement. This child had an epic meltdown. Over a shirt. I can't say I didn't understand. I get how it feels to not like your clothes, but in all my trying to reason with her, I overheard myself say "Next time you should put your uniforms in the laundry when I tell you to." 

It was a valid point. At the heart of this WAS her choice not to do as she was told...

But after the fireworks went out and I was left with the quiet of my book release...I found myself thinking Was that really the issue here? What I heard in my own voice was pride... that how dare you not do what I say...

And I didn't like it. 

As I replayed the morning's scene, I thought to myself, "Couldn't I have looked ahead to morning and said 'There is no way she's going to start her week off without everything she needs...'"? Could this whole thing have been due to my inattentiveness as a mother? 

I think sometimes it's hard to step back from this "growing little people" business and say "in the grand scheme of things...what's the better option?" And I should be able to do that by now, shouldn't I? 

I should be able to choose my battles...and if a battle is going to go global, I should find a way to avoid it, find another way to teach the crucial lesson. Find a way to set everything else aside and say "What is it that she really needs?" 

When I picked her up from school yesterday, I informed her of her punishment. While I had to take some responsibility for the lack of undershirt, I didn't take a bit of responsibility for the slammed door or the smart mouth...

But I did apologize. 

And as I did, I watched that stubbornness in her face melt away. I said "We can both do better, Soph." 

And I meant it. 

And it helped. 

Because while I want my kids to be respectful (of both people and things) I also want to set my kids up to succeed...and this weekend, I didn't do that. 

And if there's a battle I need to choose wisely, well, that's it. The battle with myself...to let go of my own pride if it means I'm setting her up to succeed. 

Time to do better...

 

The Big Idea Festival, Nesting & Another inappropriate story...

I guess I needed to take a little break? I went a lot of days in a row without blogging, and it felt strange, but necessary. Sometimes I think you just need to ponder. Or nest. And that's mostly what I've been doing. And no, I'm not pregnant. 

Just a new homeowner...on a mission. 

We spent the weekend chasing down our to-do list andI'm happy to say it's all coming along. Adam's recording studio is nearly finished (except for the shopping) and I've mentally moved on to the 'green room." 

This is what it looked like in the Realtor photos:

I really think they kind of pulled it off, but it's not working for me at all. In fact, I've taken to calling it the "Poo" room because honestly the color on the walls really reminds me of a baby's diaper.

A dirty one.

My mom is shaking her head. I can hear her now... "You really need to learn to censor yourself..." 

I'm currently in the indecisive "what color do I paint, my whole life depends on this decision" phase.

Which has led me to the "but I just did this, for the love of Pete. Why do I have to do it again!?" phase of self pity. 

Mostly I'm at war with the fun, vibrant, color-loving side of myself and the "it's time to grow up and choose neutrals" side of myself. Trouble is, I'm drawn to lots of different styles...so it's difficult to pick and choose and commit. 

I'm still gathering my thoughts on the subject (as if my decorating skills, or lack thereof, need to be psycho-analyzed?) 

Anyway. I'm also choosing winners for all kinds of goodies today (stay tuned!) But in the meantime, I wanted to tell you about this: 

I'm still kind of floored that I get to be a part of something so amazingly cool. Have you been over to Big Picture lately? There is SO much to learn and what a great place to do it! 

Click on the photo to read more about the Big Idea Festival! 

In short...this is a FREE 14-day festival filled with big ideas, big prizes, and big fun!

Grab a front-row seat; you won't want to miss the spectacle of the season. Seven of your favorite BPC instructors are teaming up with seven surprise instructors—who will be unveiled on opening night—to share their biggest big ideas with you.

While we can't guarantee that there will be elephants and acrobats, there will certainly be energy and excitement to spare. Register now for your chance to join in the hullabaloo and share your big ideas, too.

Check this out!

 

I'm still sort of shocked to see myself with these girls. They're fabulous in every way! You can come get big ideas from Ali Edwards, Cathy Zielske, Stacey Julian, May Flaum, Karen Grunberg, Amy Sorenson and myself. 

The festival is 14 days straight of  daily challenges and amazing giveaways...and did I mention this is FREE?! What? 

So no matter what kind of papercrafter you are, this is a GREAT opportunity to join in the fun! 

And as a side note...

Sam's been really into his muscles lately. The other day he lifted up his shirt to show me his 4-pack. At the risk of writing yet another inappropriate blog post, I have to tell you about our ride home from my parents' house last night. 

Adam likes to play car games. I won't tell you that I loathe them because I don't want everyone in my family to call me boring and because it keeps the kids occupied. 

And because every now and then, we get a little gem.

Yesterday, they were playing "Person, Place or Thing" (which is basically "20 Questions". Or in our case, "152 Questions.") 

So, Sophia has chosen a "Thing" and we're all guessing. 

Ethan: Can you buy it in a store?

Sophia: It depends on who you are. 

Me: Is it prescription medication? (No wonder I hate these games.) 

Sophia: Um. No. 

Adam: Is it man-made? 

Sophia: Yes: 

Sam: It's BOOBS!

Don't worry, after I wiped the tears of laughter off my face, I did reprimand him for being inappropriate. I'm sure it made a huge impact. 

Sometimes I feel sad that time goes fast...and other times I find it impossible to not be so thankful for this exact moment right here...because these moments are just so fun, and I am just so blessed. 

Hope you had a good weekend! 

Hide the Word in Your Heart {A Giveaway}

Wow. What a week. This first full week of school has taken some getting used to. Scheduling, carpooling, taxiing...it's all new. 

Usually new + Courtney = one hot mess. I don't really like change (says the girl who's moved three times in two years...) but for some reason, this year, I feel GOOD about the changes...it's almost like we, as a family, have been sleeping for too long and now we're finally awake. 

Sometimes when I think back on the past several years, how underwhelmed I've been, how difficult it was for me to want to get out and do anything...I wonder if something bigger than me was going on. 

Because now I find myself wanting to run errands, wanting to be out and about, wanting to make new friends and be the kind of mom that's really focused on the important stuff. 

Maybe there's been a shift in my priorities or something. 

This week Sam started school for the first time ever. He's four, and while my other two didn't go to preschool, they had other forms of socialization. This guy? Not so much. 

I was really worried neither of us would survive. 

Little did I know, Sam had big plans for the "Fun Room." He loved it. Loved every minute and cried when I picked him up. He didn't want to leave. 

Thank. Goodness. 

Still, having the other two at school all day, I have more alone time with Sam (he's only gone for 2 1/2 hours)...and I've re-realized something and wonder how on earth I ever forgot. 

When I was a kid, we memorized Bible verses. As an adult, when Adam and I did kids' ministry, the ONE thing that was important to us to change about Bible memorization was that it was more than rote repetition. 

It needed application. I mean, if we know the words of a foreign language but don't have the translation, those words never become anything to us. They're just odd sounds. 

When we moved in to this house a few weeks ago, we discovered a big old CD player that had been in the garage. I watched Adam haul it upstairs and asked "What are you doing with that?" (It's not a pretty CD player, friends.) 

"I thought Sam might like it," says my musician of a husband. 

"But it's so ugly." 

"But it works." 

And so it began. Sam's not-so-big room now had a ginormous CD player which usually found its way out of the closet and into the center of the space. I can't tell you how many times I've tripped over it. 

As he falls asleep, his routine has been to listen to Adam's memory verse CDs. 

Did you know my husband wrote memory verse songs back in the day? They're songs full of memory verses all in different styles. 

There are three of them...Red, Yellow and Blue.

They're available on iTunes.

In our house, they're a little like background music because we've had them for years, and now, every night, I'd go into Sam's room and shut off the CD player, kiss his squishy face and go to bed. 

But yesterday, something happened. 

I have one of the CDs in the car and as we made the trek to pick up Ethan from school, I turned it on.

Background music. 

And then I heard this little voice behind me singing along to the song...and I realized (once again) that he wasn't just singing words to a song, he was singing Scripture. 

He was singing words that he may never forget...life-giving words that, who knows? Might get him through a dark time, give him joy when he's sad, help him get to know God a little better...

And I remembered what a brilliant teaching tool music really is. 

There's nothing like hearing a child worship. They're so innocent and do it with reckless abandon. They're fearless. 

It's inspiring, don't you think?

It's a revelation that never should've escaped me, but now that I've re-leared it, I'm holding on to this one. I have a son who won't stay in his class at church but who loves to sing and listen to music...it seems appropriate that we listen to lots of the right kinds...

Giveaway:

I feel like today I'd really like to give all three of these CDs away...maybe you're like me and you've forgotten how important music can be...or maybe you've always known and want to add to your library. Either way, leave me a comment and I'll draw a winner next week! 

And if you want these for your collection, head over to iTunes and snag your own today! 

A Prayer for Kindness

Looking around at them, the chattering groups of little girls, flipping long strands of unbrushed hair behind their shoulders, I'm instantly transported back in time... back to middle school, one of the strangest and most awkward periods of my life. 

I spent the better part of the weekend worrying that Sophia's experience in sixth grade would mirror mine. I had one of my all-time favorite teachers (ever) and still had the worst year of my life. 

Layout from Scrapbooking Your Faith.

It was in sixth grade I started to feel different. I was awkward. I grew faster than everyone else. I was overweight. I wasn't athletic. I have a long list of things I discovered were "wrong with me" that year...things I still think feel "wrong." 

And yet...I've learned over the years that it's not "wrong" to be "different"...it just took me a little longer to find my way. 

As Sophia starts middle school, my prayer for her has been that she will develop unrelenting kindess. The kind of kindness that bubbles out of her soul. Kind to friends. Kind to strangers. Kind to the unkind. 

And what I keep saying to her over and over again is "You will never regret being kind." 

It's funny how I still see that awkward little girl with a bad pair of glasses and a crazy 80's perm when I look in the mirror. It's funny how difficult it can be to move past those insecurities, despite the knowledge that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. 

And while everything inside me revolts against those very things that held me back, the truth is, I can see the good in them. I mean, having a few insecurities, knowing that you started at that same place of awkwardness as everyone else...it keeps you kind. 

It makes you compassionate. 

It teaches you to never judge a book by its cover. 

I'm trying to take these moments, the crazy ones, the quiet ones and all those in between, and process them correctly...without a lot of introspection, though that doesn't seem to work for me. It's hard to let things just be. 

Today I'm going to focus a little more on that...today I will just be. 

 

First Day of School Reflections

The last two weeks really are kind of a blur for me. I've been moving in fast forward and I've yet to really pause through any of this madness. 

In addition to releasing the book and working full-time, I've now officially been introduced to the life of a taxi-mom. I've decided getting kids ready for school is, in and of itself, a full-time job. And yes, I am exhausted. 

This is the first year we had to choose between extracurriculars because in the past, our kids have really only wanted to do one thing at a time. Easy. 

This year, this middle schooler wants to do it all. And I get that because that's how I am...but it's challenging to know what to allow and when to put the halt on. I've always been of the mindset that less is more. That and my borderline agorophobia have kept my kids quietly unscheduled. 

But I do them a disservice if I stay this way and I know it. 

Sophia is going into sixth grade. It's hard to steer her with her strong will, especially when she says she wants to do band and not choir and we know what a strong singer she is. 

But yesterday I found myself in the music store filling out a rental agreement for a saxophone. As she sang us back home, I found myself filled with sadness that she refuses choir, but I hope her gift finds her along the way. 

Not only that, but this year, Sophia has signed up for volleyball. This, to me, is one of the best things she could do because I do believe in the benefits of team sports, and while it's going to be a very hectic schedule, we are excited to see her try something she's never done before...

Maybe even something that she'll have to work at...

A little hard work never hurt anyone, right? 

Then, to top it all off, she's auditioning for a local production of SchoolHouse Rock Live! One of the things we missed most while living in Colorado was our involvement with Spotlight Youth Theatre (formerly Christian Youth Theatre--Chicago). We know Sophia is going to have a blast, but the questions do swirl in my head...

Is it too much?

It's funny because in the mess of getting volleyball shoes and knee pads and the sax and filling out form after form and school physicals and everything else, this guy has stayed fairly quiet.

He's happy to swim. And play Legos.

I'm happy with that too.

Parenting isn't harder or easier now that my kids are older, but it's always evolving...always different. There are new concerns, new lessons to teach...new decisions and new challenges we face. 

I don't know that any of us ever get it right.

But I'm sure gonna try.

Happy First Day of School... 

(PS. I'm giving away a copy of A Sweethaven Homecoming on my Author Facebook page. Check it out HERE!) 

The Great Weenie Debate

This is a story about a boy.

A boy who closely resembles no one in our family. Who marches to the beat of his own drum with more volume than an entire percussionist section. 

A boy who sings when he goes to the bathroom. Hits inanimate objects when he gets frustrated and cries for the sole purpose of getting his older siblings in trouble. {I'm onto you, sucka.} 

Last night, I was getting Sam changed from his play clothes {read: pajamas} into his pajamas {read: clean pajamas} when he struck up the most interesting conversation...

He said, "Mom, you don't have a weenie, do you?" 

I think I stifled a laugh and then sort of frowned but when I met his eyes I saw he truly wanted to know. And let's face it. It's a legitimate question...though not one I had any intention of answering in any sort of detail. 

Oh. Okay, we're going there, are we? 

Me: Uh...no. I don't have a weenie, Sam. Can we get your jams on?

Sam: And Sophia doesn't have a weenie, right?" 

Me: No, Sam, Sophia and Mommy are girls. 

Sam: And girls don't have weenies. 

Now you're catching on...

Bear in mind I NEVER had this conversation with Ethan. Methinks his older siblings have some 'splainin' to do.

Me: No, Sam, girls don't have weenies. 

Then he gets this look on his face, a lot like this:

And says, "Can I see?" 

Me: Huh? 

Sam: Can I see that you don't have  a weenie? 

Me: Uh, no. You're going to have to take my word for it. 

I thought the conversation was over, and while I honestly felt horribly uncomfortable with this line of questioning, at least he asked me and didn't go looking for someone else to prove to him that girls don't have weenies. 

Then, today, out of literally the clear blue ever-lovin' nowhere, he says to me, "Mom, so if you don't have a weenie, what do you have?" 

I can't take it anymore. 

Again, I looked at him and I'm totally flabbergasted because darn it, he wants to understand. And I'm sure some smart person will tell me I should've responded differently and without the laughter of an eight-year-old boy but apparently I'm just not mature enough to handle such tasks.

You would think that after the Giant Cowboy AND the first weenie heart-to-heart AND that other candid weenie talk we had recently...I would've gotten this down, but alas...

His big old eyes wanted...needed...and explanation. What was I supposed to say? 

Like every intelligent thirty-six year old mother of three, I said, "Let's talk about that some other day." 

Then I literally snickered my way out of the room. But when I reached the doorway, I heard his little sing songy voice behind me... "If you don't have a weenie...what do you have? Just a hole?" 

And that, my friends, is just a little smidge of what I'm dealing with around here. 

 

Kids & Moving

So, we're buying a house today. 

The closing is at either 9, 10 or 11 a.m. We figured we'd show up around 10:18 and hope that works for everyone. Truly, we've gotten conflicting times from everyone. Our Realtor called yesterday and said "Do you know what a pain in the butt you are?" (She's my friend so she can say things like that. Ha.) Goes to show you how incredibly annoying this whole process has been. 

It's filtering down to everyone we work with. 

Run. The. Other. Way. 

When we were moving out of our house in Colorado, my mom said, "Isn't it funny how the kids can just sort of go on about their day...there's all this chaos around them and they can still play?" 

Say what?

Yesterday, in this 105 degree heat with 1000% humidity (which, by the way, I actually kind of like...what is up with that?!) my boys played outside for the entire afternoon.

It was a good thing too because if they didn't remove themselves from my presence there would've been some serious trouble. We've all been cooped up for too many days (I don't like the humidity THAT much) and I was just not having it.

Plus, it took a good two hours to figure out how to get our money from Colorado to Illinois. Thank God Adam handled that. I might not have survived, and I KNOW I wouldn't have been pleasant on the phone.

 

Moving makes you really cranky. If you know someone who is moving, just say a prayer for them right now. They may turn into Mr. Hyde tomorrow and you want to make sure the change isn't permanent. 

This is Sam's serious face:

Because water ballooning is serious business. 

Anyway, I'm thankful that it's not as difficult on them as you'd expect it to be. And it sure isn't as difficult on them as it is on us. 

Today, we're dragging them to our closing, taking them up to the new house where we'll let the maid service in (Yes, I splurged. I tried to explain to Adam it's sort of like when you're the one that has to prepare dinner and touch raw meat...even after it's cooked, you don't really want to eat it. I thought it would be the same for the house...if I see other people's yuck, am I really going to feel like it's CLEAN?) 

His response: "That analogy makes no sense." 

My response: "Whatever, dude."

This morning I woke up horribly overwhelmed with the reminder of everything we'll need to do to update the house...it might take some time for me to get on board with the whole plan. I'm taking tips on thrifting from my friend Shannan because we only have enough furniture for one family room (we gave a bunch of stuff away before we moved).

How are we going to fill three living rooms? And a dining room we'll likely turn into a "study room" for the kids. 

No clue. 

Exhausted thinking about it. 

Pretending none of that's on my plate and going to hang out with my houligans. Here's wishing you a very relaxing, wonderful weekend! 

Hope you get to spend it with some goofballs.

He's Got the Moves Like Jagger {eat your heart out Adam Levine}

When you're moving, there are random moments of peace. They're few and far between and often hard to recognize, but when they hit, you embrace them.

Usually in those moments, something strikes you. Something you hadn't thought of before. Something like, "Wow, when we move, we're going to have to reprogram the DVR."

Again.

There are so many little details about moving that you forget about. This week alone, I've remembered 162 of them, including:

• We have to cancel/reschedule all of the utilities.
• We have to withdraw all of our money from our bank accounts and get set up again in Illinois. (This doesn't break my heart. It's a pain, but I hate our bank here.)
•  We have to figure out who is going to set up our television and internet in the new house. And when. 
• We have to pack up my scrapbook room. Again. (I do realize this shouldn't have been quite the shock it was, but what can I say? Denial's not just a river in Egypt. (Isn't that the saying?))
• We have to coordinate our closing date with our loading/moving date and figure out what to do with our stuff until we figure out where we're going. And when. 

You know...the list goes on. You don't think about all these things when you decide to move. You think about the big picture things. 

How are we transporting our stuff? Since we don't know that many people here, can Adam lift the entire couch on his own? Who is paying for all this crazy moving nonsense? 

And those, on their own, can overwhelm you into a fetal state. 

It's in times like this...times when I'm on the verge of meltdown that I do the one thing I know how to do. 

I turn on the music...and make my children dance.  There really is no other cure for this kind of stress. 

Ethan responds with "Um. I'm not really...a dancing kind of guy..." 

But Sam pulls out the moves like Jagger:

 

Love the way he blends so many different genres together, don't you? 

Things to note: 

1. This was at around 2 p.m. and yes, he IS still in his pajamas. He doesn't like real clothes. I have no idea where he gets this (says the girl wearing yoga pants.) 

2. At the beginning, you can hear me laughing. Then you'll see his whole demeanor change. He plays it off, but let me tell you, that kid wanted to be mad at me. I have since stopped laughing for any reason ever. 

3. The leg and arms moves and the big finish are worth putting up with all the butt spinning. 

4. I love this kid. 

Back to the boxes, the packing and the craziness that is our vagabond life. 

Have a great weekend! 

7 Ways to Make Moving (or transition) Easier for Your Kids

Last night, Adam went to see Men in Black 3 and I stayed home and watched We Bought a Zoo. I'd been wanting to see this movie and now find myself obsessed with Benjamin Mee and his landmark 20 seconds of insane courage. 

There was something inspiring about the idea of walking into a place and knowing "Yes, it's crazy to the rest of the world... but THIS is what we're supposed to do." 

I can relate. 

After all, it's not everyone who makes a big move three summers in a row. 

To tell you I'm all fine and dandy with it would be a lie. Even in the knowing, there is still sadness. Even in the excitement, there is still grief. I drive down our Colorado street now and fall in love with our little town all over again... and I find myself whispering prayers asking God to make this easier, to make all decisions clear. 

And I believe, in time, he will. 

But what about the kids?

In three years, mine have had three different schools and are preparing to go back to their first one. Forget 20 seconds of insane courage...to me, these kids have had months of it. 

First day of school this year. 

Change is inevitable...when it comes, how can you make it easier on your kids? 

Here are seven ways:

1. Talk to them about how you feel about the move. And be honest. You may be tempted to "put on a brave face" for them. Don't. They need to know they aren't the only ones with a weak stomach when they think about making such a huge life change. Tell them what you'll miss. Tell them why it makes you sad. Then spend some time talking about all the reasons you're excited. In "We Bought a Zoo," Benjamin Mee had a sense of adventure...tap into your inner explorer and get ready for the ride of your life!

2.  Pick a day and go do all the things they want to do before you move. We keep thinking of things we want to do before we move away from Loveland, but what do your kids want to do before you move? Even if it's "We should go out to Jumpin'" (a big open space with tons of inflatables)...let them do it. And make it fun!

3. Let them get an email account. While it's awfully daunting to have your kids online, there are some really great things about allowing them to have an email account. We let Sophia get an account, but we require that she gives us the password. More than once I've read her email. She knows whatever she writes at this point is fair game.  It's worth it for her to be able to maintain friendships with kids at her various schools. 

4. When you arrive in the new place, take them in early to tour the school and meet their teacher. Part of what's hard for me with this move is that we LOVE our kids' school. On the last day, they broke ground for a building expansion and Sophia was one of three kids chosen to give a speech. 

They've truly thrived here. Spiritually, the school has been amazing. I've seen so much growth and encouragement, and I don't think they felt like the "new kid" for more than a day. Before school started, I took them both in for a tour, they met their teachers and even saw photos of some of the kids in their class. It really helped. 

5. Make the actual trip fun. My kids know we have a 16 hour drive to get back to Illinois and they claim if we can go to "the hotel with the waterpark" that will make everything better. Might as well give it a try. 

6. Be especially in tune with their (mis)behavior. When we first told Ethan about our move, he acted very nonchalant about it. Sophia took it all in stride, but Ethan started getting in trouble at school. At first, I was kind of hard on him, but then it dawned on me that this wasn't about him misbehaving...this was about the emotions he couldn't process. Be more aware than ever... you don't know HOW a child is going to react to change until you see it. Don't let them get away with their bad behavior, but be there for hugging, talking, random ice cream trips. It's okay every now and then to be a softie. 

7. Throw them a party. I know it may seem indulgent, but a going away party with all their friends is a GREAT idea. Take lots of pictures and let them have a guest book to record addresses, emails and well wishes. I admit, this is going to be really difficult given all that we have to do in the next month, but I think it's worth it. 

Also, as a bonus, don't make promises if you can't keep them. Don't promise to visit the place you're leaving "every summer" unless you're sure you can. Kids will remember. 

Now...does anyone have any advice on making this easier for grown-ups? I'm all ears. 

A Candid Talk About Weenies {with my four-year-old}

Perhaps you remember my very mature post about girl parts and boy parts? While it was probably my favorite blog post ever, I realize there's a level of inappropriateness in discussing such things...and at the risk of being equally as inappropriate, I have another story to share. 

It starts with a child:

A perfectly innocent, sweet, four-year-old child...

This weekend, I began to realize the extreme need for bribery with Sam when it comes to keeping him in his bed at night. He just does not need a lot of sleep, that kid. And it kills me (because I DO!) So, I whipped out my trusty treasure chest and implemented bribery. 

We have to do what works around here (can I get an Amen?) 

The deal was, if he stayed in his bed, he got to pick something out of the treasure chest. Little toys I'd picked up to entice him to stop running all over the house at night while I'm desperately trying to blankly stare at the TV. 

Well, it worked like a charm. That kid must LOVE treats because he stayed in bed and I fell in love with him all over again. (Apparently my love is conditional.)

In the morning, he picked his prize. A balloon. 

Seriously? A balloon? Didn't he see all the cool stuff I bought? A Mario Kart candy toy? A Spongebob stuffed animal? And he chooses a balloon? (It's here I'm wondering why I spent the money on everything else, but it is what it is.) 

Later that day, I sat upstairs watching my mom fold clothes (she's yet to master the art of sitting still. Me? I've got it down) and Ethan and Sam were downstairs playing some weird version of balloon volleyball. 

And that's when it happened. The tattle-fest. Tons of giggles and then...

Ethan :  Mom! Sam drew a weenie on his balloon! 

Me: Ethan, I'm sure it's not a weenie. He's four. 

Ethan: It IS! And he did it with a PERMANENT marker! (he runs up the stairs) 

Me: Ethan, seriously. This is totally inappropriate. 

Ethan stares blankly as if to say "That's why I'm telling you. Do something. You're the mom." 

Me: Sam! 

Sam: What? 

Me: Come up here and bring your balloon. 

He bounds up the stairs and walks over to me, wide-eyed. I take the balloon from him and look at it. I see nothing inappropriate, so I'm thinking I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.

Me: Sam, what is this? (Thinking all along that Ethan is overreacting and there is no way Sam drew THAT on this balloon.) 

Sam: (matter-of-factly) It's a weenie. 

While I do not, in any way, think it's funny for my children to "tell butt jokes" (Ethan got in trouble for this at school) OR draw weenies on balloons, I cannot for the life of me tell you what came over me. 

Perhaps the word "Weenie" was the culprit. It's no "giant cowboy" but darn, is it funny.

I looked at Sam, who was so up front about his artwork AND obviously VERY proud of it and I lost it.

I.could.not.stop.laughing. 

Sam sort of stared at me, then seemed to shrug it off, dismissing me as a crazy lady. He grabbed the balloon and started hitting it again (paying no mind to the pain he might inflict on the balloon weenie.)

Finally, I regained my composure and started to reprimand him. I said, "Sam. This is serious..." and then I lost it again. 

But, really...can you blame me: 

Huh?? 

My mom said (through tears) "I think he needs an anatomy lesson." 

Is the balloon just head and weenie? I'm confused. Where's the torso? 

Somewhere along the line, I think perhaps I stopped maturing when it comes to talk of such things. I honestly could not have a straight-faced conversation with my four-year-old about weenies if my life depended on it. 

The darn balloon is hilarious. 

Lest you think all of my children are obsessed with inappropriate things, I'll share my video of Sophia singing at her school talent show last week. She's taken to calling herself my "only normal child."

She has a point.

Happy Tuesday! 

  

How Our Move is Hitting Home {hard}

It's hard to explain how a son can steal your heart unless you have a son that's stolen yours. 

bad iPhone photo. It is what it is.

The relationship between mother and son is unique and different and very special...at least around here. Ethan is my most sensitive child, but he's also my least verbal. At least when it comes to talking about his feelings. 

Oh, he loves a good rambling round of Twenty Questions (in which he asks approximately twenty questions on the same topic before moving on to a new topic and starting over...) because he's curious and intelligent and likes to dissect things. 

But ask him how he feels and he clams up. Cries. Struggles.

A few weeks before we really knew we were moving back, I started probing the kids. Ethan came with me to run an errand and when I wouldn't let him get something in the gumball machine he said, "You know Grammy would let me get it." 

Uh-huh. But I'm not Grammy. 

He sighed. "I know." (Read that with an extreme amount of disappointment. Because that's how he said it.)

I said, "You miss Grammy and Poppy?" 

He nodded. 

"What if we lived back by them, would that be a good thing?" 

He thought for a second and said, "You know, I never really wanted to move here in the first place." 

So I thought we were golden. It was the girl I was worried about. 

Then we explained to the kids that this was a very real possibility, and as I suspected, Sophia cried (she has this great little group of friends at school...) 

And Ethan said "Okay. Can I go play the Wii now?" 

But then a few days passed and Sophia remembered the good things about Illinois, including her friends there...

And CYT and the school she'd loved...

And Ethan still said nothing. 

Then I started getting emails from his teacher. Bad behavior. Wild. Talking out of turn. 

At first, my inclination was to punish him. No kid of mine was going to be the troublemaker. I don't care who his daddy is. 

But after a couple of days of emails like this, it dawned on me. For all of Ethan's "not caring," I knew that somehow, inside, he was having trouble processing this. In three years of school, he's had three different schools. And the one he loves is the one he's in at the time...which right now, is in Colorado. 

I sat Ethan down and told him I'd had another email from his teacher. We talked about his behavior, and then I dug my heels in and tore the band-aid off. "Is something upsetting you? Because usually you only act up when you're upset about something." 

It took a minute, but then he burst into tears and said "It's just hard that we might be moving back to Illinois." 

I said, "But I thought you were excited because you never wanted to come here in the first place?" 

And he said, "But then I started thinking about all the good friends I have here." 

And what could I say? Because I've thought about all the good friends I have here too. I've cried over the distance we're now putting between us and them...I've hated how flighty we seem to keep traipsing across the country. 

I've had dreams that we're doing the wrong thing mixed in with dreams we're doing exactly what we're supposed to...but more than anything, I've lost sleep worrying about these kids. 

I switched schools exactly twice in my life. Once in 2nd grade and once in 9th. It was traumatic both times. Kids are resiliant, yes, but how do you, as a parent, explain that this is the right decision for our whole family...not just for the grown-ups? 

How do you give them a chance to explore feelings they're much too young to have when really, you want to be wild and talk out of turn and throw your ball at your classmates just like they're doing? 

I know he'll be okay...but he's still processing right now...and so am I. My feelings are so mixed in spite of being so sure we're in the palm of His hand...

And I suppose that's normal...but that doesn't make it easy. 

I have no conclusion today. Just ramblings. Just questions. Just typical mom-worry...

And the hope that when all is said and done...we're going to be okay...

10 Ways To Build Self Esteem in a Child

I feel like a fairly passionate person. At least about some things. I think I'm passionate about theatre and movies and my family. But I'm also passionate about building self esteem in young people. Kids, pre-teens, teenagers. 

It's important to me to have that in my life. The opportunity to say to someone "You really are special" and not sound like a Veggie Tale. 

Perhaps the most important person I am saying that to right now is my daughter, Sophia. She really is special, but as she approaches the dreaded sixth grade year (my most challenging year as a child), I see her struggling with some of the same issues I struggled with. 

Self-doubt and insecurity. 

I'm sure there are moms out there with brilliantly well adjusted children who never question whether or not they're good enough/smart enough/pretty enough...but when those moms wake up from their delusions, I really don't want to be there. 

The truth is, no matter HOW much you build up a child, there's always more building to do. It may seem like you're not getting through or they aren't listening to you, but I promise you they are. And even if they don't get it the first twelve times, maybe thirteen is your lucky number.

It's too risky not to keep trying.

So, because I'm list-girl, I've got a collection of

10 things you can do to build self esteem in a child, regardless of their age.

I've found it works especially well to start the process early and not beat yourself up when you see they need another pep talk.

Remember, you're sending them out there in the world everyday where the positive reinforcement gets harder to hear.

1. Teach her to celebrate her differences. Explain that God made her for a unique purpose and just because she may not be the best person to have on your "Zombie Tag" team, she could be the best person to lead worship in chapel. If YOU celebrate her uniqueness, then she will too. 

2. As often as you can, tell her specifically what you love about her. I prefer to divide this into three areas: 

• A physical feature
• An intellectual feature
• A talent/skill or ability 

I've read that you should focus not on their physical appearance, but I think you have to include it. Let's face it, girls want to be told their pretty. That's just human nature. So tell her, specifically what about her is pretty...but back it up with what makes her pretty as a person. (She is kind. She is selfless. She is creative.)

3. Make HER tell you something she loves about herself in each category. When she gets down, a great way to build her back up is to guide her in the process of finding out what she loves about herself. She will feel like she's bragging. Explain to her that loving yourself isn't haughty as long as you stay humble. She needs to see the good inside her. 

4. Give her a visual representation. Print a photo of her like this one: 

Give her a Sharpie and let her highlight those things on her list. Hang it up somewhere for her to see it, like the bathroom mirror. Feel free to add the things you love too. 

5. Talk to her about your own insecurities. For a long time, I thought it was best to pretend, but I've found that pretending is just phony and no one likes a phony. Be honest with her, but be positive. For instance, I might say, "I always hated that I had these hips..." but I'd follow it up with "Thank God I had them when I gave birth to a baby that was 10 lbs., 2 oz." Sometimes the very things we hate about our bodies are the things that serve a purpose. 

6. Convince her to focus on what she can control. Sophia can get caught up in being the tall girl or the fact that certain clothes look better on her than others. She wants long, flowing curly locks. The sooner she can start accepting the things she has no control over, the better. It's taken me years to realize it really makes no sense to dwell on the fact that I have short legs. 

7. Determine if she's frustrated because she wants to learn something. Is she frustrated because she's not good at something she can learn--and wants to learn? For instance, if all of the girls in her class are learning to play volleyball and she really thinks it looks fun, but the two times she tried she hasn't done very well, how can you help her? Can you sign her up for a camp? Can you give her a fighting chance? Show her you're on her side. 

8. Make sure she sees the airbrushed pictures in magazines. Sophia is too young to read most of the magazines that are airbrushing actresses to look like plastic, but if she realizes now that the photos in those magazines aren't a true representation of real people, I think she'll walk into the next season with her eyes wide open, hopfully unwilling to compare herself to a fictitious representation. THIS LINK has some good examples of before and after pictures.

For example:

(Why can't we let Kelly Clarkson be Kelly Clarkson...super talented phenom?)

9. Talk about what makes her love someone. What things does she admire in her friends/teachers/family members? What does she want to be known for? Guide her so she focuses on kindness, skill, work ethic rather than the way someone looks. Then point out those things are all within her reach. 

10. Explain how God sees her. It's hard to grasp this concept. I can say that because I'm still trying... but if we despise ourselves, it means we despise God's creation. He's an amazing artist who knew just what he was doing when he made her. Show her verses that prove it. 

We love you, Sophia...

Being Present

When you're pregnant, it seems there's a ton of advice out there floating around, doesn't it? Also, everyone wants to touch/rub/speak to your belly. 

Being the non-touchy-feely person I am, this never went over very well with me. 

I used to say I wished they came with an instruction book...because when I brought Sophia home from the hospital, I sure didn't know what I was doing. 

This weekend, she turned eleven. And I thought about all the people who told me it would go in the blink of an eye. It's my least favorite thing that older people say. It makes me feel like no matter what I do, I'm going to miss out on something. 

I get it. It goes fast. But what good does it do to reiterate what we all already know? That she'll be independent before I know it? That I can't keep her from growing up? 

That one day, she won't be my baby...she'll be my friend. 

This weekend, time stopped...for her. And I'm so glad it did. We didn't work. We didn't write. We (Adam) didn't compose. We were fully engaged. Fully present. 

...and sometimes I think that's why time moves so quickly...because we're not really paying attention. It's like driving across town, reaching your destination and having little memory of how you got there. 

I realize it's fleeting...this is why I scrapbook. It's why I journal. It's why I keep this blog... so one day I can look back and remember the days that turned into months that turned into years... and I can smile on the other side of it. 

Smile to think of all the adventures she's had so far...New schools. New friends. Discovering she loves to lead worship. Discovering we have a love of theatre in common (it's important to find common ground, I think...) 

Discovering her own personal relationship with her Heavenly Father...and her sweet relationship with her earthly one. 

And how many more adventures she has ahead of her...eleven years feels long and makes me feel old...and yet, it's just a drop in the bucket. She has so much to explore. 

 

For now, my plan is to be more engaged. To look into her eyes more often. To realize that when she gets out of bed at night, she's not always stalling...sometimes this is the best time to talk to her. 

That when she asks if I want her to sing to me, it's often because she can sense I had a rotten day.
This is her way of cheering me up. 

That she is going to grow up, whether I like it or not...and so far, she's proven that she's going to do that in a beautiful way. 

That she needs to be independent. It's okay. I was too. 

That it's important to bring out her silly side...and often the best way to do that is to find mine. 

That when she has a revelation about God, I most certainly will stop and listen to it...often he uses her to teach me something I need to hear. 

That she is sweet in so many ways...

Happy Birthday to my amazing eleven-year-old beauty. 

It may go fast, but I'm going to tune in to every little moment...

Five Things NOT To Do When You’re "The New Kid at School"

Sophia's first day as the "new kid" after our move to Colorado. Fourth Grade. 2010.

Sophia is quite busy being bored this week. She sent Adam an email explaining why she should have a blog, and I admit, she was quite convincing (despite her typo): 

"I think that i am olf enough to have a blog. Mom was saying that you can get a password so just your friends can look?? Please! I am responsible enough and i have nothing to do with all my creative genius." 

When I was younger, I remember putting together a full-on presentation to convince my parents why I should be allowed to attend public high school rather than stay at my small, Christian school. After I convinced them and started at the new school I tried to convince them to send me back. 

They said no. 

I digress. 

My point is, my daughter, who is on spring break, has decided that this is the perfect time to start a blog. As a trial run, I've asked her to do a guest blog here on my happy little virtual home. Having been the new kid at school not once, but twice in the last two years, Sophia thought she might be able to offer a bit of advice for other "new kids" out there. 

(I am not going to edit it, and I'd like you to notice the tone of voice she gives her mother.)

(Sophia's first day as the new kid at her current school. Fifth Grade. 2011.)

So without further ado, I give you my almost 11-year-old daughter's

"Five Things NOT to do When You're the New Kid at School." 

 1.    Don’t paint your nails with your new black Crackle nail polish the day before school or (if your mom is like mine,) you might have a conversation like this:

 “Sophia, go take that nail polish off.”

“But Mom, It isn’t even dry yet!”

“Well, good. Then you won’t have to use up the nail polish remover. It costs a lot of money you know.”

“Why can’t I wear it?”

“We don’t want the people at your new school thinking you’re Goth!”

“MOM! It has bright pink underneath it!”

“I don’t care. Go remove it or I take your iPod.”

“UGH.”

This is from personal experience. So, if you don’t want your iPod taken away, then you should wait until the week after school starts to be cool.

2. Don’t wear a dress and try to climb on the top of the monkey bars, even if your friends tell you to. Because, you finally get up there, then they tell you to do a flip off, and you do, not only will you land flat on your face because you can’t move your legs apart, you will not notice that everyone, even the football boys, saw your underwear. They were from 2005. And about 3 sizes too small. Yeah. Embarrassing.

3. Don’t draw pictures in your journal during Bible time unless you are an amazing artist. Your new friend might want to see what you drew, but it might be completely pathetic and you think she might not be your friend if she saw. Well, you thought right. You sat by her at lunch, and she didn’t acknowledge you. Oh well, you think. You get up and sit by some other people. You’ve been friends with them ever since. Yay! Happy ending!

4. Don’t tell everyone that your favorite song is “Just the way you are” by Bruno Mars. You might get in trouble with the teacher for singing the bad parts in the middle of class. At the top of your lungs. Let’s not forget to mention it was during a test. Yup. A test. Indoor recess for you.

5. Never, never, ever, NEVER bring yogurt to school while wearing your best dress. When you open the top, it usually splurts out a nice little hello all over whatever is in front of it. So if you open it towards your chest it says hello all over your favorite dress. Wonderful, right?!

There you have it. Advice you can use.  

If you've learned nothing else, you now know that I 1. Routinely threaten to take her iPod away and 2. Think nail polish remover is "really expensive." 

Ah, the stuff you can learn...

Suddenly my big girl is little again...

Sophia has always been a really smart kid. In third grade, she was reading at the 12th grade level. She rarely pronounced words wrong, memorized books, spoke in complete sentences. In many ways, the "little girl" wore off of her a long time ago. 

But lately, as she gets older and stretches her wings a little, something funny has happened. Her "big vocabulary" is getting all mixed up. And it's a mother's dream. That reminder that she's still a little kid... what could be better? 

At first I thought it was a fluke. We were getting dinner ready in the kitchen one night and something came up that required extreme teasing. Sometimes a girl just needs to be teased...and who are we to deny her that need? 

Finally, after a few minutes of this, Sophia  slams her hands on the counter and says, "Will you just GET OFF MY SHOULDERS ABOUT IT?" 

The trouble was, she was being funny BUT deadly serious in her choice of words. 

One time thing, right? It wouldn't happen again, so we adopted the phrase "get off my shoulders" as a household and moved on with our lives. 

Then, a couple weeks ago, she came to Adam with a question about two words. "So, what would be the forfeit of that word?" she asked, straight-faced. 

Adam stared at her for a minute and then finally realized she meant "What would be the replacement for that word?" Where she got forfeit, we still don't know. 

Finally, last night, we were playing Scrabble in preparation for Adam's tournament today. (Yes, I am serious.) I should also add that I hate this game. I'm horrible at it and feel like my game play is an insult to writers everywhere. Anyway, we were playing and Sophia tried to play the word "HIPE." She puts it down and immediately starts celebrating...

"YEAH! I'm awesome! Take that! In YO FACE!" 

Adam and I look at each other...

"Uh, that's not how you spell hype," Adam says. 

She deflates. "What?"

"It's H-Y-P-E." 

"It can't be spelled with an 'I'?"

Adam and I shake our heads. 

Sophia takes the tiles off the board. "Oh, yeah, fine, just go ahead and blow my thunder." 

Blow my thunder? 

I've yet to uncover where her mad cliche skills are coming from, but in the meantime, I'm writing them down and working them into straight-faced conversation with her. I can't tell you how much joy it brings me to hear her messing these things up. 

I wouldn't forfeit this little girl days for anything...so get off my shoulders about it. 

Spice Up Your Family Night...No Money Fun!

When you're married to a former children's pastor, there are certain "perks".  For instance, if you find yourself feeling like you need a fun family activity but don't feel like going anywhere or spending any money, odds are good a creative former children's pastor can come to the rescue. 

(Prepare for orange-tinted indoors-at-night photos...)

We do like the occasional board game, but every now and then we mix things up. Adam's work with kids has taught him how to entertain. While I assume we need some big production, the truth is, all you need is: 

• a tall laundry basket
• stuffed animals
• paper (two sheets) 
• marker or pen

Send your kids on a hunt to get all the stuffed animals they can find. 

Be prepared for some (or all) of them to become hoarders once they've determined which ones are the best:

(Make no mention of the garbage waiting to go out. Pretend it's not even there and no one will notice.) 

Have your kids create markers (like bases in baseball) at 20, 50, 100 and 500 points. 

Ethan made ours, cutting two sheets of paper in half long-ways. Then, you set the papers out ala "The Grand Prize Game" each point value getting farther away from the laundry basket. 

In the first round, each person gets 3 chances to get their animals in the basket. They choose what point value they want to go for. 

Certain members of the family may attempt (and make) the 500 point shot just to show off. 

Celebrate his victory by trying to distract him on the next throw. That's the sportsman-like thing to do. 

This can become quite an intense game. Especially if one child in particular finds herself with a goose egg for the majority of the game. 

(I'm not naming any names.) 

Encourage your children to go for the gusto. Mine have this fine art mastered. 

And, of course, be prepared to step in and show them all how it's done. 

In Round Two, we changed things up a little. You could call "Double Points" on any of the markers, BUT if you missed, you were negative whatever the point value that marker said. For instance, if I was on the 100 and called double and missed...I had to deduct 50. 

This is how I lost my lead. 

Darn Double Points. 

Prepare for this game to cover a wide range of emotions. From sheer joy...

To extreme silliness...

To deflation at the prospect of negative points...

It's anybody's game...and one you should play with your kids the next time they're bored or you need a break. We had a blast and it was completely FREE! 

What do you do for some no money fun? We're always looking for great ideas!